


Messages for Dad

by DuskDawnAndFate



Category: Warhammer - All Media Types, Warhammer 40.000
Genre: A lot - Freeform, Actually more of multiple timelines, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, And a broken reality, Black Library has destroyed my patience, Blame the Emperor, Did I mention dual timelines, Dysfunctional Family, F/M, Family Bonding, Family Drama, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Family Issues, Fuck Erda, Gen, Have to get those babies somehow, Kinda, Like, Lots of shipping, Mixture of novelization and script format to help seperate the story and the timelines, Multithread canon, Originally on SpaceBattles, Siege of Terra Series is not fucking canon and sucks ass, TTS is a show, There are more threads that take place before this, They're watching TV, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-22
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-18 00:22:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 25
Words: 513,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21518860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DuskDawnAndFate/pseuds/DuskDawnAndFate
Summary: The Imperial Family have gotten messages that seem to have come from the future, a future where Chaos is winning, the Emperor is dead, there are children and there is more war. The events of the future influence the present, especially when they finally start to make steps towards a better reality, while the future only seems to grow more and more distant...Aegidius Guilliman will have to live his life in this galaxy, this broken Imperium, and to one day have to do what is right for his home.Basically: Emperor and Co. got vids of the future and they have been sitting there for a few weeks now and finally found these vids. They need to get back to work.I write this with my best buddy, Showtime178. He doesn't have an account cause he's a nerd.
Relationships: Emperor of Mankind/Alivia Sureka, Roboute Guilliman/Yvraine (WH40K)
Comments: 209
Kudos: 263





	1. Aegidius

**Author's Note:**

> This is a repost from SpaceBattles, the forum has all chapters but I'm currently rewriting the chapters to better fit and flow with my cowriter Showtime178. Trust me. The first draft was trash.
> 
> Cowriter is Showtime178 from SpaceBattles and one of my closest friends. Without him, this story would have stopped long ago and wouldn't be at this level.

These past few weeks started simply, the Emperor had been about to leave the Great Crusade and head to Terra for his secret work. Before he could leave, he was sent a few vids to watch, he could have ignored them and gone off his merry way, but something made him stop.

He decided to spend a few moments with his sons before he left, and what better way to spend time was watch these vids right after Ullanor?

A single decision that led to all of his sons congregating around the Bucephalus, with countless fights, laughs and ribbing at each other and at him as they watched a series of future events called “Text-To-Speech”. And from there, it spiraled out of control. After watching all of TTS, they moved on to other events of the future, all the while bonding as a family, settling differences and old grudges all the while forming some new ones. Drawing pacts and making Tzeentch, the god of change scream “NOT AS PLANNED!” in constant intervals as the entire timeline was flipped on its head by the Imperium of Mankind's Royal Family constantly learning things from future and bygone eras. Lorgar even awoke to his full psychic abilities at some point during all of this.

Then they watched separate realities, different timelines from the mysterious vid archives that just seemed to keep filling with more vids to watch. They even sat down to enjoy some leisure time.

That is how those few weeks passed for them all even as on the Throneworld, a certain Sigillite was going madder and madder with the sheer amount of paperwork that was quickly piling up.

They even made a system, where eventually they all took turns digging through to find something to watch and so on. Lorgar found vids of religion, Ferrus would find vids of technology, Magnus about the warp, so on, so forth. And as the cycle repeated once more, the twin Primarchs were diving through some of the holovids, searching yet again for **interesting** content.

Unbeknownst to the entire family, the entire Imperium, even the entire galaxy... The series of vids that the Primarchs of the Alpha Legion would stumble upon would be the catalyst, the breaking point, the one which would push them over the edge. It would cause the entire universe to flip itself on its head and raise the entirety of mankind to a whole other plain of existence.

And it was very innocently titled…

...

****

**  
...**

  
We join the family at the beginning of this very moment.

Alpharius and Omegon were digging through the pile of holovids, the thing having gotten so massive that they had just begun to throw all of the un-watched vids onto a pile, while the watched ones went to another. Yes, Magnus nearly had an aneurysm after seeing this the first time, but he got over it.

A certain blue and white heradly colored Primarch though…

“I swear brothers, can’t you at least put down the vids gently? If you began stacking them, a basic organized collection would finally be formed instead of it looking like a collegium dorm used clothing pile!”

The twins completely ignored their brother as they continued digging through the pile of unwatched vids and soon, one of their gauntleted hands poked out from the pile, a shower of other vids accompanying it as it presented one chest in particular. A chest covered in aeldari symbols and even some human runes. “It seems…” Alpharius (?) spoke up from the pile, his voice muffled, followed by Omegon (?) crawling out of the pile as well. “-We found…” And then the two stood up proudly, both holding the chest together now. Speaking in sync, “Something interesting.”

The Emperor, who was lounging on his throne, perked up when the twins **finally** found something after so long. “FINALLY YOU TWO FOUND SOMETHING. I WAS PONDERING WHETHER OR NOT TO SKIP YOU TWO.” They shrugged at this and he waved a hand at them, done with the conversation. “SO, WHAT DID YOU TWO FIND?”

They looked at each other, then at the chest, then themselves, then back to the family (in that order) before they spoke up together, again, in sync. “Did anyone send messages to father?”

“FROM WHERE AND WHEN?” The Emperor asked, looking directly at Horus and Sanguinius, maybe Rogal. He was sure one of those would be the one to do that, since most others kind of… not hate, per se, but not love.

“Odd…” Maybe it was Alpharius saying this, while perhaps it was Omegon who answered, “It says it’s the 42nd Millennium.”

“Okay, you two, stop. A message for Father? Obviously it has to do with some very crucial or even personal matters, it almost feels wrong to open it in front of everyone. We can’t just violate the privacy of our own Father.” Horus spoke up, ever the mediator between the family and their antics. He knew that his Father would want privacy and it was their job to respect that.

There were murmurs of agreement among the more upstanding of the brothers while the more uncaring ones grumbled about their privacy already being breached and the Emperor being a massive hypocrite. Why shouldn’t they? They barely had any privacy anymore since the vids started up, everyone’s worst sides were on full display every day, so it’s quite hypocritical they gave him that privacy.

The Emperor, meanwhile, was internally grateful. It was difficult to have his own vices and shortcomings on full display, so he’d like to not have it on full display for once. “THANK YOU, HORUS.”

Sanguinius, who was closest to the twins at the moment, looked over at the box in question on a whim and stopped for a second. “Wait, this isn’t addressed to Father.”

The twins blinked owlishly, then looked at the label marking the chest full of vids.

“Sanguinius is…” Began one of the twins. “Correct.” Finished the other.

“To who then?” Asked Horus.

“To…” “Guilliman.”

There was an audible pause as everyone in the room slowly turned to the Lord of Ultramar and Roboute looked back at all of them, the beginnings of a desperate look on his face even as it slowly twisted into annoyance.

“Don’t you dare.”

“I say we watch it.” Began Mortarion, ever the spiteful one of his brothers.

“It would be useful information most likely.” Continued Magnus.

“It would help me get over my grudge, a humbling experience is always helpful in the long run.” Said Lorgar with a wicked grin. “Isn’t that what you said to me at one point?”

“We DID have to deal with CUNTO SHITARIUS in all those other vids!” Angron yelled out, but he did have a nearly manic grin on his face, always happy to have his annoying monarch of a brother choke on some of his own medicine.

“Anyone else notice that it says ‘Messages for Dad’ on the label?” Added Magnus as he inspected the first vid.

“Dad? As in, father?” Stated Fulgrim in a surprised tone.

“Aye, who the hell finally got desperate enough to fuck ye-”

“THANK YOU, Leman, for that very ASTUTE analysis of my sexual life!” Finally spoke up Roboute in his defence. “Besides, you aren’t that petty are you all?”

The family looked at each other, before slowly turning their heads back at Roboute and simply staring even as Guilliman facepalmed hard with both of his bare hands, the gauntlets resting on the side of his throne.

“You are all incorrigible.”

“MAGOS.” Began the Emperor even as Magos Lehm booted himself out of hibernation. “PLAY IT.”

“Father, please, we still have a chance to-” Roboute began, hoping to appeal to his Father about this, but the Emperor gave no quarter.

“EVERYONE HAS TO DEAL WITH A BIT OF HUMILIATION, ROBOUTE. BETTER TO TAKE IT LIKE A MAN AND JUST GET OVER IT.” The Emperor answered, sitting back and watching the screen.

The vid started up, no one really realizing how much this particular set of vids was going to change _**everything**_.

**204.M42**

The Holovid started abruptly. The holorecorder shook as it was seemingly dropped and crashed down on what appeared to be a desk.

“Ah!” Came a young, squeeky and startled voice.

Clumsy, pale fingers traced over the lens as the holorecorder was picked up after a few tries and turned to face its user. A young boy with a very familiar jawline with baby fat, a very familiar nose and brow, with a very familiar looking clothing style as well.

The family looked at Guilliman, then back on screen, then again at Guilliman, the back at the screen.

Leman: “Well frack me and call me a Fenrisian wenches bitch, yer actually did it ye utter mad lad.”

Emps: “TO SAY THAT I AM SURPRISED IS AN UNDERSTATEMENT.”

Rogal: “The child has the features of Roboute, yet is quite clumsy.”

Perturabo: *smacks Rogal as the tradition demanded despite Rogal not even really being able to feel it* “Thank you for stating the obvious brother.”

Rogal: “My pleasure brother.”

  
The child’s hair was curly-bright blonde and cut short as it peeked out of the edges of a helmet. He wore a blue dress uniform with Macraggian and Ultramarine heraldry even as it was primarily colored blue. It was completely off set however by the armoured helmet that he was wearing on his head.

“Did I… did I break it?” He gently asked even as he looked over the holocam and rolled the footage back to check it for any corruption. The jumpcut from this action shifted quickly from the worried face of the boy to the wide grin he was giving to the recorder.

“Its fine!” He said with a pleasant chuckle even as he put the holocam back onto the desk with an audible thunk, showing his nicely decorated room. He made sure to keep it propped up and gently moved it to keep it in place. The boy’s room was spacious, with the same style of Macraggian artificery as would be expected. There were countless bookshelves lining the room with an assortment of books, figures of some type of game (The Emperor shrunk back at those memories of playing that particular game) and there were plenty of propaganda posters of the Ultramarines and the Astra Militarum to complete the look.

“Hi dad! It's me, your son, uh... Aegidius!”

*Guilliman was visibly confused but his heart seemed to be instinctively warming up to the idea of fatherhood*

Roboute: “To be fair… Aegidius is a good sounding name.”

Emps: “TO BE EXTRA FAIR, IT HAS ALLOT OF TRAGEDY ASSOCIATED WITH IT.”

Vulkan: “I hope he is more fortunate than any of his name carrying predecessors. I only wish the best for the cute little one!”

  
“So uh…” Once more began Aegidius, seeming confused at what he was supposed to do now. He nervously patted his desk, trying to not stare directly at the holorecorder, since he wasn’t sure if that was rude or not. “I know you gave me this holorecorder so that I could send you messages while you were away but uh…” Aegidius scratched his hair in frustration. “I guess… I could start with a report?”

Guilliman: “If that is what you wish son, then go ahead.” *Realizes that he just answered a holovid* “WHAT THE-”

Emps: “THAT’S JUST THE INSTINCTS KICKING IN, YOUR GENES ARE FAR STRONGER THAN A REGULAR HUMANS, EVEN IN THAT PARTICULAR AREA.”

*Meanwhile Magnus, Fulgrim and Jaghatai all nodded sagely, as if they somehow knew what that felt like. Lion meanwhile, was quite confused at this, but didn’t dare show it.*

  
“So uh, yeah, report I uh… guess I can start with a date? No wait, that will be hardcoded in by the holorecorder, I uh… well, you have been gone for a while but-” He tried to nervously scratch at his hair, but kept hitting the helmet, making him nearly yell in frustration, “ Agh! I can’t think clearly with my helmet on.”

He reached up and began fiddling with the pressure lock of the helmet, finally getting the seal undone after a few tries and slowly taking off his helmet to reveal the rest of his curly blonde hair and…

  


Jaghatai: “Brother, I have to say… WHAT ON ALL OF THE PLAINS OF CHOGORIS WERE YOU THINKING?!”

Vulkan: *Deeply struggling on the inside and going red from the restraint*

Mortarion: “This is just… disgusting.”

  
Where one would typically find ears on a baseline human, Aegidius instead had a pair of very sharp, distinct Aeldari ones. Even the shape of his eyes, not obscured by the visor on the helmet had a very distinct aeldari shape as well, even if the coloring was human like.

Emps: “WOW, EVEN YOU MANAGED TO WOO AN AELDARI, GOOD SKILLS SON.”

Magnus: “I just, wow, I didn’t think this possible…”

Leman: “Well, that’s just bleeding horrible.”

Roboute: “Can you please not pick on my future son? Or insult me for that matter? My private life is just that, private, and I will not-”

Angron: “Sure thing Eldar-fucker.”

Guilliman: “I just-”

Lorgar: “I wonder which one would be beautiful enough to ensnare you brother? Must be one with zoophili-”

Emps: “TOO FAR LORGAR, TOO FAR.”

Sanguinius: “How about we all just watch? I am personally interested by the child, despite his… unusual, origin.”

Konrad: “Seconding that.”

Emps: “WOW KONRAD, I DID NOT EXPECT THAT FROM YOU.”

Konrad: “The child is not responsible for being brought into this world, so I don’t care about him but it’s better than watching some of the other stuff.”

Corvus: “Agreed.”

Emps: “MAGOS, UNPAUSE.”

  
“Well, I suppose… The Primaris have been doing a great job keeping me company… Brother Tigris and Brother Brutus have been getting kinda distant lately. They say they’re just tired from all the fighting. Why don’t they just take a nap if they’re tired? Now that I think about it, why doesn’t everyone just take a nap? The regular Ultramarines barely sleep enough that their armor is all dinged up and scratched. The techmarines and Artificers can’t repair it quick enough and replacements are tough to come by. Even Big Bro Cato has his armor all beat up too.” Aegidius leaned forward onto his desk, head perched on his hands. “Do you think that you can give them a chance to rest? Imperium Sec… Secoon… Se… coon… dus… can’t be that crazy to always be fighting, can it?”

Emps: “DID THE KID JUST SAY ‘IMPERIUM SECUNDUS’?”

Fulgrim: “And to think that people associate me with personal glory.”

Horus: “And me, but I am quite sure that is not the case.”

Roboute: “Thank you, brother, at least someone is on my side. I am sure that if Imperium Secundus is in effect that there was a good reason for it.”

  
Aegidius shrugged, looking at the recorder as he continued. “Everyone in the city is fine, I guess? Some guys crashed and attacked, they broke a lot of stuff, but my brothers just got rid of them and nothing bad happened. All the people worked to get everything back together, even the Eldar helped too. Mom always did say that Craftworlders are a bunch of lazy, entitled assholes who don’t work for anything and they all should- Oh wait, I don’t think I can say all those bad words…”

Leman: “Not a bad lad.”

Mortarion: “I suddenly like this child slightly more.”

Guilliman: “He is a child! He shouldn’t know those words!”

Magnus: “He had to have heard it before to repeat them. Is Leman nearby by chance?”

Leman: “Hey!”

Magnus: “Can’t blame me for this one brother, I am right.”

Leman: *Wolfgrumble*

Ferrus: “Apparently the child’s mom has a foul mouth and talks bad about other Eldar on a regular basis.”

Fulgrim: “Exodite perhaps?”

Magnus: “I would disagree, exodites tend to simply avoid their other kin.”

Konrad: “And she is most likely not a Dark Eldar either, unless-”

Lorgar: “Unless of course Roboute is into that sort of-”

Guilliman: “AGAIN! Thank you for delving so deeply into my private affairs!”

  
“Well… I hope you get to come back home soon! You’ve been gone for a long time now, and we don’t even talk on vox or anything… So try and come back? We can play battleships, or army men or maybe we can read together? Oh! Maybe I can show you my new songs? I… I just miss you, Dad. I miss you and mom, the both of you are always gone and it gets really lonely here.” Aegidius smiled, waving his hands. “But it’s okay! I’m a big boy! I can wait until you come back! You always come back! Cause you’re the strongest, smartest and best person in the whole galaxy!”

Roboute: “I… It’s nice to actually hear someone speak so highly of me like that…”

Lorgar: “Don’t you have enough people doing that for you at home?”

Roboute: “Well- this is different… He’s just so earnest and… everything. It’s just nice to have someone feel that much love and affection towards me. That’s all.”

Emps: *wants to say something, but just lets it go*

  
He shifted a bit, making himself a bit more comfortable.

“So, I’ll be here on Macragge! I’ll study every night, I’ll read a new book every day, I’ll make sure to wash behind my ears and everything! So stay safe!” He waved again, in goodbye. “Bye dad! I love you! And say hi to mom if you see her!”

Aegidius then picked up the holorecorder, dropped it again, cried out that he broke it with a curse in completely fluent Aeldari, then it cut off to a blank screen.

Perturabo: “And we just watched that because?”

Rogal: “It appears that sometime into the 42nd Millenium, Imperium Secundus has been reformed and Roboute sired an heir. From what I have gathered from the child, not everything in the future is well, and that there is much more at play than what we have seen thus far. I gather that the future must be quite bleak, and that further viewing may shed more light on the subject.”

Perturabo: “That… was too informative for me to smack you.”

Emps: “HONESTLY, THIS WAS KIND OF INTERESTING. WHAT SAY YOU ROBOUTE? ANOTHER ONE?”

Guilliman: *Thinking deeply* “I… yes, play the next one.”


	2. Worrisome

Silence was all that graced the room as the family patiently waited for the new holovid to play. Everyone had their own opinions of the child, Aegidius, and the information in these vids. Some were internally debating on whether or not watching more was going to be beneficial in the end, they did have a mountain of information of the future already, what more can one series do?

Meanwhile, Horus was lounging on his throne, waiting for the next vid to play. After watching the first vid, he was reminded of something else...

“Imagine having to deal with children…” Slowly muttered Horus under his breath.

“Excuse you, brother?” Cut in Roboute, surprised that he felt this strongly already. Maybe watching these vids wasn’t such a good idea...

Horus shrugged, a long suffering sigh escaping him as he continued, “I mean, dealing with some of you is like dealing with a bunch of children at times-”

“OI! What’s that supposed to mean?” Leman cut him off even as most of the family snickered. “I just fell for that? Really?”

“I hear wolves get slower in their old age.” Commented Magnus in a smug voice.

“YA DAMN NERD! I AM ONLY 2000 WOLF YEARS OL-”

“I’m sorry, but did you just say, ‘Wolf Years’!?” Interrupted Magnus, incredulity painted on his face as he regarded Leman.

“It’s a valid bloody measurement, accepted in the highest Imperial standards!”

“No it bloody well isn’t! I would know, I wrote that particular codex myself along with Robout-”

“Nerds!”

“You’re insufferable! This is almost as bad as the time you tried to tell us that measuring levels of destruction should be called ‘ANGRONS’.”

There was a grunt of annoyance from the Red Angel himself even as Leman gave a wolfish grin. “Well, I did also try to propose a unit for psychic catastrophe levels but you denied it.”

“BECAUSE CALLING SOMETHING ‘NERD FAILURE LEVELS’ MAKES NO SCIENTIFIC SENSE!”

“Magnus wasn’t around for this at the time, but during the earlier stages of the Great Crusade, Leman attempted to impose ‘Wolves’ for survival chances of a battle.” Added on Horus. Leman letting out a growl at this.

“I’m not surprised. I’ve heard children come up with better terms than that.”

“Honestly, I can’t remember that.” Added Leman as he reclined on his throne.

“What? Has all of that Space Marine level alcohol you tend to drink finally rotted away the memory part of your brain?” Asked Magnus, incredulous.

“Ney, I can’t. In fact, all I remember is that I met Horus on the day that I probably proposed that and then we had a feast and-ohhhh so that's why!” Leman then turned to face the Warmaster and gained his brothers attention by tapping him on the shoulder. “Say, brother, how many tables did I break that day?”

“What? Why would you ask me that? All of them were broken-”

“Aye, but how many did I personally break?”

“Oh, I don’t know… like, twenty maybe?”

“Ah, pretty out of it then.”

“YOU MEASURE HOW DRUNK YOU WERE BY BROKEN TABLES?!” Guess who piped up.

“Oh, of course not!”

“Oh… good, my intelligence was insulted just about as much as it could be by then.”

“By how many tables I broke, along with how many women I bedded! Though of course I was much more of a bachelor back in those days.”

Everyone heard and audible snap as Magnus’ logical mind decided to go for an extended vacation in the warp.

Thankfully, this was the moment Magos Lehm decided to interrupt the incoming fight. “My lords, the vid has been readied for playing.”

“GO AHEAD PLEASE, MAGOS.” Spoke the Emperor even as the projector began playing the holovid. “I SWEAR, ALL OF YOU ARE CHILDREN.”

204.M42

The holovid feed came alive, this time it thankfully didn't fall over as soon as it started, obviously because the holorecorder was on a much sturdier surface. It showed Aegidius carrying some bag with him as he hurriedly pulled it off to throw onto his bed. Quickly coming to the desk chair, obviously he was excited about something and could barely contain himself.

"Hi dad! I finally figur-" Aegidius threw himself onto his chair, but accidentally landed on the edge, causing him to slip and crash onto the side of his desk with an audible THUNK.

Aegidius let out a groan from the floor, shakily bringing a hand up and waving at the recorder. “...I’m okay.”

He slowly got up from the floor, shakily grabbing onto the side of the desk and getting up. The entire lower half of his face was covered in blood as his nose was bent in an abnormal angle. “Okay, that wasn’t as bad…” He chuckled humorlessly. “Sorry, dad. I know you uhhh… Don’t really like it when I mess up.” What was strange is that his voice had a slight whistle to it now, which surprised him as well. “Wait, hold on…”

Emperor: “MAGOS… PAUSE PLEASE. ROBOUTE, WHAT-”  
Leman: “HOW IN THE WOLFIN HELL ISN’T THAT PUP CRYING HIS EYES OUT!?”  
Magnus: “I NEVER THOUGHT I WOULD SAY THIS BUT, I AGREE WITH LEMAN!”  
Roboute: *Shocked into a worried silence* “I… Aegidius… I don’t know why he is like this. Mortarion, you’re the doctor, what do you think?”  
Mortarion: “I am no expert on mutant physiology, but I’m pretty sure he must have experienced a large amount of pain early on in life and it affected his pain receptors. Or maybe he just has a dulled sense of pain. It could be either, really. I don’t really care.”  
Roboute: “What could he possibly have gone through to be like that!?”  
Emperor: “ROBOUTE, IT’S FINE. HE OBVIOUSLY DOESN’T SEE ANYTHING WRONG WITH HIMSELF AND IS NOT DEAD, SO IT’S FINE. MAGOS.”

Then he reached into his mouth and felt around a bit before wincing only slightly as he pulled out a small tooth. “Oh… I lost another one.” He shrugged, nonchalantly, “cool.” He put the tooth in some unknown container off screen as he put his chair back up and sat down on it carefully. “Hold on, I can’t breathe through my nose.”

Roboute: *Violently begins pointing at the screen* “SON! WHAT IN THE EVERLOVING FU-”  
Vulkan: “Language my dear brother! The poor young one is obviously used to the pain.”  
Jaghatai: “And this being an unnerving constant in his life… I really should send a hymnal to Chogoris when I have the time.”

And then he broke it back into place with barely a whine or complaint, as a wet snap came from the screen as it was back in place. “There we go. Oh wait, I’m covered in my own blood again…”

Fulgrim: *shivering* “Ugh, I have seen that thousands of times, but I still can’t get over people snapping parts back into place...”

He looked down to his clothing, “Blood is so hard to get out of clothes…” He looked back up. “Okay, so I was… Doing a lot better? I mean, this is the first time today that I got hurt and fell over. I was doing really good too! I was watching where I was going, I made sure not to run in the halls, I swear I was good!” He frowned, wiping away at the blood on his face with his sleeve.

Roboute: “Son… how can you be that clumsy with Primarch and Aeldari genes in your blood?”  
Corvus: “Sounds like a really unlucky mixture of genes.”  
Emperor: “THAT UNLUCKY? I DOUBT IT, THERE WOULD NEED TO BE SOME EXTERNAL FORCE IN PLAY.”  
Roboute: *Worries increasing exponentially*

“But I don’t know, it just happens. I mean, I know you’re gonna be mad, but whenever I go to sneak peeks at the war meetings, I’m fine. But whenever I go do anything else, I get hurt! It’s weird.” He began to look around for a replacement shirt, leaving the screen.

Roboute: “YOU DO WHAT YOUNG MAN?”  
Horus: “It’s not as If I wasn’t attending war meetings at his age.”  
Roboute: “You are a primarch brother. And besides… our father is a horrible parent.”  
Emperor: “HEY... OK, YOU MIGHT HAVE A POINT. MY CHILD RAISING SKILLS WERE NEVER THE BEST.”

Sounds of rummaging come from the screen, Aegidius peeking his head back in, “I hope you’re not mad.” Then back away, with a curse in Aeldari. “Sal Drag bren…”

Roboute: “I don’t suppose I can be son, just worried that- *Realizes yet again what he is doing* ARE YOU KIDDING ME?”  
Emps: “GIVE IT TIME, IT SHOULD GO AWAY.”  
Roboute: “Father, I’m worried that I might start lecturing the vid at some point.”  
Emps: “I DOUBT YOU’LL GET TO THAT POINT, SON. CALM DOWN AND WATCH THE VID.”

Eventually, he did come back to the screen, using his old shirt to wipe away more blood. “This is so hard to do without water… Ugh, but if I do ask for something to help, then Big bro will come… I don’t wanna deal with him…” He sat back down, laying his head on the desk. “Dad? I got to ask… Why did you put Big Bro Sicarius in charge of me?”

“I mean, he isn’t so bad. He has a lot of stories, he can be fun to be around, he’s a good friend, and he’s a great babysitter… But… But I’m not a baby, you know…” He huffed, “Sorry, I’m just kinda… Not happy with school. Everyone is usually so down and so full of despair, or just disappear in a day because they are becoming my brothers. It’s hard to really enjoy it or… you know? I guess constant war is just… Not good?”

Leman: “Not the sharpest sword is he?”  
Roboute: “He is a child brother, back off.”  
Leman: “On Fenris he would already be fighting.”  
Magnus: “And that is why it’s called a Death world.”

“Can’t you fix it? Can’t you just make it stop?” He looked up at the screen, big eyes looking up at him, as if demanding answers.

Roboute: “That is oddly… effective.”  
Jaghatai: “Strange, I thought the effect was limited to females.”  
Fulgrim: “Apparently not, it’s working on me too. Must be the aeldari genes within him.”

“But it can’t be so bad? I mean, they’re going off to be Ultramarines! That’s just so cool! I wish you’d let me be one, though I don’t know if I’d be a good one. I fall over all the time, you tell me I have to stay home because people get lost if I’m not… Then again, I don’t even like fighting, so I guess I’d be a really lousy Ultramarine…” He groaned, moving and hitting his head onto the desk with a soft thunk.

Roboute: *Winces* “He is too young to understand the trials as of yet.”  
Angron: “No, he is the perfect age for them.”  
Roboute: “He is but, the trials are difficult and… well-”  
Magnus: “You can not see yourself putting Aegidius through them?”  
Roboute: “Yes… I don’t know why, it must just be the instincts…”  
Magnus: “I can see that.”  
Jaghatai: *want to say something but just lets it go*

“Though for some reason I see the parents of the ones who go to become Ultramarines crying sometimes when they come to the fortress. They just seem so sad when one of my brothers tells them something then offers them a folded flag…”

Sanguinius: “That is… the reality of those who don’t pass…”  
Roboute: “I know… I know.”

“Please come home soon. I don’t really have anyone to talk to. All my brothers are too busy fighting daemons that appear here sometimes or going off to war.”

“All the kids my age are kinda… scared of me? Or just angry with me sometimes. Lots of kids tell me that they can’t see their siblings anymore because of me.”

“And the Aeldari aren’t much help either. The craftworlders are still angry that they are stuck here in Macragge, and the Exodites aren’t happy with leaving their Maiden worlds and mainly keep to themselves in the plains and forests… And they all just either hate me or just stare at me… with some weird look on their face as they call me…” He paused, thinking, “He-who-shines-brightest?” Aegidius sighed, “it sucks not having friends.”

Emperor: “HE-WHO-SHINES-BRIGHTEST. NOW THAT IS AN INTERESTING BIT OF INFORMATION.”  
Lorgar: “Indeed, what could he have done to earn that title?”  
Jaghatai: “The eldar do not bestow titles needlessly nor without intent.”  
Rogal: “He shines brightest. Not necessarily in the matterium.”  
Magnus: “Rogal might just be right here… Perhaps this connects with what he said earlier?”  
Roboute: “Which part?”  
Magnus: “People getting lost without him?”  
Emperor: “WE NEED TO WATCH MORE BEFORE WE CAN SET A HYPOTHESIS.”

“Kinda funny that I finally figured out what to say on these, and it ends up making me feel really sad and lonely instead. And I was so excited to tell you all about my day, or something I learned. Instead of just sending boring messages to you.”

Aegidius then sat up, rubbing at his cheek, scratching at the bottom of his hair. “Dad? Can I tell you something? And can you please not be mad at me?” He pauses, “...I don’t wanna be the Emperor when I grow up.”

Roboute: “WHAT?”  
Emperor: “WHAT?!”  
Lorgar: “WHAT?!?”  
The entire family: “WHAT?”

He ducks his head, retracting into himself slightly, “Please don’t be mad. I… I don’t even know what being an Emperor is like. Being a Prince is bad enough. I don’t like fighting, I don’t like it when other people fight, I don’t even know what I should know and… This is all so much. I just… I don’t know. Why can’t you just keep being the Lord Com… Coh… man...der. Yeah, that. Why do I need to be Emperor? Can’t I just… Stay home and just read? I like reading, I went through about one third of the books in the library of Hera by now!” His face grew sorrowful once more.

Emperor: “HE IS DESTINED TO TAKE MY TITLE. THERE IS SOMETHING GOING ON HERE. SOMETHING FAR GREATER THAN WHAT WE ARE SEEING IF ROBOUTE HIMSELF HAS DECREED IT AS SUCH.”  
Roboute: “I… I just want him to have a childhood…”  
Fulgrim: “A fair request from a parent but…”  
Angron: “This galaxy isn’t fair. You have to deal with it along with the rest of us.”  
Roboute: “He is just a child brother-”  
Angron: “So was fucking I when they hammered these things into my head.” *Violently points at the cabling leading from his head into his armour* “Life isn’t fucking fair. Especially for a mutant. Get over it.”

“I’m sorry. I’m supposed to be big now, so I can’t complain. I just don’t know what to do.”

Angron: *Huffs* “Kids got grit, I will give him that.”

“I… I’m going to stay tough dad! Tough for you! Don’t worry bout me I can-” Aegidius then glanced at something off the screen. “Is that the time already!? I haven’t done my history homework yet! I barely have 46 pages out of the 20 required ones!”

Magnus: “The fu-”

“I gotta go! See you later da-” Aegidius attempted to reach over and presumably press the power button but looked to slip on his chair, smashing his chin on the desk as he went tumbling to the floor.

“Oww… not again… turn on voice mode…” He grumbled from the floor as a positive sounding ping was heard from the holocam. “Stop recording… ohh the blood got all over dads model-” The feed cut to black.

Once the vid was over, all that was left was the Primarchs and a whole lot more questions than they entered with. What happened to the Emperor? To the Imperium!? What was going on that MACRAGGE was under daemonic attack? Why was Aegidius proclaimed practically as a prophet by the Eldar?

“My brain hurts…” Began Magnus.

“THE ANSWERS ARE A BIT… STRANGE. THE SITUATION EVEN MORE-SO.” Answered the Emperor even as he was rubbing his eyes.

“I thought watching these vids would answer our questions, but all it did was throw more at us and not nearly enough information to answer them!” Sanguinius ground out, surprising some brothers at his mood. “I find… cliffhangers to be… upsetting.”

Rogal blinked, “But you are not on a cliff. And you can fly.”

“Its… its not like that brother.” Slowly spoke Sanguinius.

“Patience brother.” Gently advise Horus. “I have no doubt that eventually we will see all of these questions answered, if any of the other series we have watched are to go by.”

“Cliffhangers are annoying. But at least they build on things.” Perturabo finally spoke up.

“Things that may just come falling down upon our heads like a stampede of wild Chogorian horses.” Added Jaghatai in a murmur as he looked to be thinking about something else.

“Aegidius’ mind appears to be standard for a boy his age. But his physical capabilities leave much to be desired.” Commented Lion from his throne.

“Agreed. The boy is weak.” Spat Konrad from the back of the room. “None of us had a choice on whether or not we wanted to lead legions and contribute to the Great Crusade. He’s just acting like a spoiled child.”

“Can we please not pick on my future son, brothers?” Spoke up Roboute, finally having enough insults on the behest of his son.

“Future-” “-son?” Asked the twin Primarchs, both wearing sly grins on their identical looking faces.

“Well, the crusade has to end one day. And when that happens I always had hopes of starting a family.”

“WELL, YOUR FUTURE SELF SEEMS TO HAVE TAKEN A VERY LONG TIME AFTER THE CRUSADE HAS ENDED.”

“And with a Xenos witch nonetheless.” Spat out Mortarion, the words leaving a sour taste in his mouth.

“And how would you know its a witch that bears my son?”

“Call it a damned hunch, you are just high enough on the loyalty chain and still proud enough of yourself that it had to have been one of the higher ranking ones.”

“And the Eldar don’t believe in political marriages as far as we know.” Added on Fulgrim with a little smile of his own.

“If there is anyone that could stand yer rambling brother, it would be one of those witches.” Grinned Leman.

“...didn’t we see that one Eldar woman? Later on in Text to Speech and even a few shorts on her as well? She stabbed Roboute and brought him out of stasis?” Corvus spoke up from the back, having been silently listening to them all.

“Along with that over-artificed piece of armour.” Added on Ferrus, finally deciding to contribute to the conversation.

“Could it be her? I mean… I wouldn’t mind…” Roboutes eyes went wide as he realized what he had just revealed.

Jaghatai spoke up quickly, “Remember, brother. She spent time as a Drukhari for a good couple hundred years. Vulkan and I don’t have the fondest of experiences with those damned knife eared assholes.”

“I do not, no.” Spoke up Vulkan. “But if it means that our brother will be happy then I will look the other way.”

Roboute rolled his eyes, “I appreciate the thought, but remember, there’s a chance she isn’t even around at this point. And even then, the vids of that future didn’t really show much of a… romance is a strong word here but…”

“Closed doors and hushed whispers are enough for me.” Spoke Konrad with an odd chill to his tone.

“...SO DOES ANYONE WANT TO TALK ABOUT HOW I’M BEING REPLACED?” The Emperor spoke up, trying to change the subject from possible ass clapping. N-not that he wanted to do the same thing or anything...

“How can one ‘replace’ a deity?” Asked Lorgar, going with the obvious diversion. “I mean, not that I worship you as a god anymore or anything… but the Imperial Cult is still presumably a thing?”

“NICE SAVE THERE. BUT YOU DO BRING UP A GOOD POINT. WHAT I REALLY WANT TO KNOW IS WHY THE ELDAR ARE EITHER REVERING HIM OR HATING HIM. THEN AGAIN, I CAN SEE A GOOD CHUNK OF THEM HATING HIM JUST BECAUSE HE’S HALF HUMAN.” He answered, going off on a tangent thinking about all of these inconsistencies.

“But we haven’t considered one thing.” Began Horus. “Aegidius never said, replace you as Emperor, father. He merely said he doesn’t want to be the Emperor. What is that supposed to mean?” Horus pondered this over.

“... FAR TOO LITTLE SENSE WITH FAR TOO LITTLE INFORMATION IN ORDER FOR US TO DISCERN WHAT IS GOING ON.” The Emperor had a feeling that this was only going to get more complicated as it went on.

“Just like the good old days… like pieces on a Regicide board all over again…”


	3. Bonding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies that this took forever to cross post here, my cowriter and I have been hard at work with the thread this is all from. I will make sure to post more chapters quickly! :>

As the family settled for the next vid, some of the more curious Primarchs decided to look through the multiple chests of the vids that were now recovered from the massive pile of as of yet, un-watched vids.

They all had the “Messages for Dad” title but were sorted into different categories. There was the just “Messages for Dad” ones, but then there were “Extras”, “Wife-Tales.” and some other menial un-labeled ones.

“Which one should we even watch next?” Inquired Lorgar, being drawn to a particular vid covered in Colchic script.

“How about just continuing on with the main series? We don’t know enough about the situation to watch an 'Extra’ just yet, I think.” Added on Magnus, holding up the next vid even as a mechandrite of Magos Lehm gently took it from him.

“Aye, might as well. Who even knows why we would look at a bloody wifetale? It just sounds like a cheap pornosl-”

“TOO MUCH INFORMATION SON. PLEASE ALLOW ME TO KEEP AT LEAST THAT PART OF MY SANITY.”

“Father, are you not some forty thousand years old?” Asked Rogal even as the Emperor turned to face him.

“YES THAT WOULD BE ABOUT RIGHT ROGAL, WHY DO YOU ASK?”

“Considering the era when you were born, wouldn’t witnessing intercourse between your son and his wife be considered relatively norm-”

“NO! THAT IS FINAL! IMPERIAL DECREE ON THE SPOT: YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO MENTION THAT EVER AGAIN!”

“Father.” The khan spoke up, gaining the Emperor’s attention. “I would suggest that you do not visit Chogoris while I am there. Period.”

“I HAVE ABSOLUTELY ZERO ISSUES WITH THAT.”

Meanwhile, Fulgrim just gave Jaghatai a look, which was returned. Magnus looked to both of them, all three coming to the same conclusion and soon, all three nodded to each other. All understood. It was a secret they would take to their graves with them. Unless, of course…

_ Father? Are you listening? _

**_HM? WHAT DID YOU ASK SON?_ **

_ Nothing, just wanted to check something... _

“Can we just please watch the vid? The anticipation is killing me.” Began Roboute even as he turned to a surprisingly impatient looking Sanguinius. “And same with Sanguinius apparently.”

“Yes, yes it damn well is.” Spoke the Angel. “I am far too anxious and keen to see what happens to just sit here idly, twiddling my thumbs at nothing.”

“SO THAT’S WHERE ALL THE BAD EMOTIONS WENT…”

“You say something father?” Tentatively asked Magnus even as the Emperor quickly waved a hand at him, showing that he was fine.

“FINE.” Spoke the Emperor. “MAGOS, PLAY IT.”

Unfortunately, the vid they chose to view was only a few seconds long and detailed Aegidius trying to say hello, but he ended up dropping the holorecorder, which caused the vid to show a quick crack on the screen before shutting off.

Roboute could only pinch the bridge of his nose, a deep sigh escaping him. The antics of his son were...different, to say the least. Here he thought that Aeldari were graceful, deliberate in their actions and words. His son may be half Aeldari, but still! He expected… something. He cared about him, of course, but he still felt as if Aegidius wasn’t… the best…

“Well. That was a quick one.” Fulgrim quipped from the other side of the viewing room.

“I don’t know how he does it.” Roboute answered, not looking at the screen. “I really don’t. It’s exceptionally hard for a holorecorder to break in the hands of a seven-year-old.”

“...Roboute, believe me when I say this: A seven-year-old can cause a lot of trouble.” Magnus spoke up, a faraway look in his eye.

“Back on Chogoris they compare the youngest children to drunk angry midgets…”

Fulgrim shuddered, knowingly grateful that he wouldn’t have to deal with that.

At this point, the Emperor glanced at the three of them, his suspicion building from the last few vids. “DO YOU THREE HAVE SOMETHING YOU NEED TO TELL ME?”

The poker faces of the three would have impressed him, if he didn’t already know they were hiding something from him. He could have and would have used his own abilities to force the information from them, but… He was trying to be a better father to them. So forcing it out wouldn’t be appropriate… at this time.

“Not at the moment, Father.” Magnus answered, not looking at the Emperor.

Jaghatai shrugged, “Chogoris has many children and I have dealt with them on numerous occasions.” He answered honestly.

“Technically, we are all fathers you know?” Added on Fulgrim. “Astartes being our gene-sons and all that.”

The Emperor looked at Fulgrim. He had a sneaking suspicion that all three of them were hiding something very  **big** from him. And knowing how both Jaghatai and Fulgrim could both be very eloquent without really saying at all...

Fulgrim looked at Jaghatai, desperation evident on his features.

Jaghatai glanced at Magnus, lifting an eyebrow even as Magnus recoiled and quickly shook his head even as the Emperor looked at him again.

Then Magnus had a brilliant idea. He looked at Rogal, and gave him the psychic equivalent of a nudge.

Rogal looked at Magnus even as he lifted an eyebrow and Magnus moved his head suggestively while sending him a mental request for a later personal meeting. The Emperor now looked at Rogal even as Rogal gave a curt nod in Magnus’ direction and the Master of Mankind recoiled in shock, his train of thought was violently derailed.

**...  
204.M42** \- Aegidius' Room, _Fortress of Hera_ **  
...  
******

The vid started up suddenly, but what was strange was how Aegidius wasn’t paying attention to the screen at all. Suddenly, it all made sense.

On screen, Aegidius seemed to be writing on some parchment, face scrunched up and his tongue sticking out of his mouth slightly as he worked. His pen quickly moved, every now and then he would scratch at his hair, idly grabbing and pulling a particular strand that just happened to curl more than the rest.

Roboute noticed something however. For how clumsy his son appeared to be while… well… living. Writing appeared not to be an issue however! The writing utensil that he was using was flowing gracefully along the parchment as if it was a leaf falling in the autumn times of Macragge.

“...ent desha, Tel'Aeldari shre'tel eshaal sienen Rûn. Sienen arsurinya fhaor ila nae…”Aegidius muttered to himself as he wrote. He sighed, “Stupid propaganda lines… Tutors making me write about how great the Aeldari Empire was. I wish I didn’t have to learn Aeldari, High Gothic is so much easier.”

Roboute: “Wait a moment- oh come on! REALLY!?”  
Corvus: “What is it?”  
Roboute: “Those lines he’s writing are basically saying about how great the Eldar are and how it’s ‘their divine right to conquer the galaxy’.”

*noticeable sounds of anger from Vulkan and Jaghatai*

Magnus: “Of course they are… Of fucking course they are…”  
Emperor: “DIVINE RIGHT, MY ASS. THEY HAD THEIR CHANCE AND THEY FUCKED IT ALL UP. HOPE THEY AREN’T TRYING TO MAKE HIM BECOME AN ELDAR SUPREMACIST.”  
Roboute: “Do you honestly think I would let them?”

“Really hope I don’t have to meet with a tutor today. They’re always so stuffy… Stupid banana heads…”

*snickers from the family*

“Oh!” Aegidius suddenly realized as a tiny beep alerted him to the Holocam apparently having low battery. “Oh it uh-turned on…” He reached over to most likely turn it off, but couldn’t quite reach it. “Oh-E'Sum Ath Al Drukhari  _ whore _ -” He got up and put one knee on his desk. Apparently though, he forgot about the very slippery plastek flimsies that he was writing on.

“AH!” He screamed as he slid backward and landed straight on his behind even as the plastek flimsies were sent flying, gently fluttering toward Aegidius like leaves.

Roboute: “WAIT! PAUSE!”

*The vid paused*

Roboute: “Reverse, two seconds.”

*The vid reversed*

On the screen there was a clear shot of the plastek flimsy and what Aegidius was writing…

Roboute: “Oh you got to be kidding me…” *Furiously rubs eyes*  
Sanguinius: “What is the matter? It looks like fine Aeldari to me.”  
Roboute: “He… he mixed up the words…”  
Lorgar: “Which ones?”  
Emperor: “ALL OF THEM. EVERY. SINGLE. ONE.”  
Roboute: “Even the spelling is off. Everything is off. I’m not sure how he did it, but well, Aeldari is notoriously complex, even for me. So, it’s not so bad.”  
Magnus: “I speak it well enough.”  
Roboute: “Yes, but you had more time than me and… actually, how did you learn?”  
Magnus: *Sudden far away and… frightened look?* “Practice.  **A lot** of practice.”  
Lorgar: “...are those drawings next to the runes?”  
Ferrus: “Looks like marines shooting at Tyranids.”  
Fulgrim: “...he’s quite flamboyant with the blood.”  
Angron: “I see nothing wrong with portraying reality.”  
Magnus: “I uh, don’t think that was being flamboyant.”  
Fulgrim: “What then?”  
Magnus: “I think he might have just spilled a container of ink.”  
Roboute: “...of course he did.”  
Aegidius groaned from the floor again, then let out a whoop of joy, “YES! DIDN’T LOSE A TOOTH!”  
Roboute: *facepalming*

After a few seconds, he tried to get up, only to yelp in pain. “DAMMIT! I THINK I BROKE SOMETHING AGAIN!”

Roboute: “LANGUAGE YOUNG MAN!”  
Sanguinius: “He just broke a bone and you’re focused on his language!?”  
Roboute: “Okay, you have a point but-”  
Corvus: “Just… Just admit it.”  
Roboute: “Fine.”

“AHHHH THAT'S MY TAILBOOOOOOOOOONE!” Aegidius yelled out from the floor.

Soon, the door to his room was kicked open from off-screen, the sound of heavy power armour and frantic steps and soon- a  **Custodes** with the red of the Companions was on screen. “My Liege! What happened to you now!?” Shield-Captain Pupponius demanded.

Emperor: “WHAT!? WHAT THE ACTUAL…”  
Leman: “What tae fook…”

Aegidius, from the floor, groaned. “I’m sorry. I saw my recorder turned on, and I tried to reach and well… Now I broke my tailbone.” Again, no sign of the boy crying or even being in pain from having a broken bone.

The Custodes sighed as he gingerly picked up the tiny boy and gently held him in his arms. "You just can't seem to keep yourself from getting hurt, can you? Just last week that large scrape on your cheek healed up. Your nose finally fixed itself and now you have a broken tailbone."

Roboute: "How much does he break!?"  
Mortarion: "Sounds like it's nearly weekly. Daily are scrapes."  
Roboute: "This won't negatively affect him, will it?"  
Mortarion: "Still not a Xeno specialist, so... I dunno. A human kid? I'd say he's probably lacking in calcium and should go on a special diet to help fortify their bodies so they won't be stunted in growth and/or suffer from certain diseases and cancers later on."

Aegidius grumbled, settling in Pupponius's arms and looking comically small compared to him. "I don't mean to..."

Pupponius sighed, looking down at the little boy and sternly admonishing him with, "I know actual marines and Custodes who have experienced less than you have. A young boy like you shouldn't be suffering like this, we will help you overcome this enigma of your life in time. A boy of only seven shouldn't be having to see the apothecary this often."

Roboute: "Wait, he's only seven years old?"  
Magnus: "Yeah, that makes sense. He does still have that baby fat around his cheeks and jawline, still has that bounce to himself, kinda short and lanky still."  
Corvus: "How do you know that?"  
Magnus: "From a book. I read a lot."  
Rogal: "This is true. Magnus's personal quarters are actually the library."  
Perturabo: "I... That's technically true."  
Corvus: "This is still suspicious as all hell, you know."  
Mortarion: "I agree- what are you hiding, witch?"  
Magnus: "I am hiding nothing. I just read a lot. All of you are just suspicious for no reason."  
Leman: "Who cares? The nerd reads."  
Jaghatai: "I recommend we move on and watch the vid."  
Ferrus: "I agree, just move on."

*suspicious grumbling*

Aegidius crossed his arms over his chest, a big frown on his face as he thought over everything Puppy told him. It wasn't his fault! It was just so unfair! "How long is this one going to last?"

“I am not an Apothecary, my Liege. But I estimate... Three weeks my liege… and you won’t be able to sit.”

Emperor: “DID THE CUSTODES JUST CALL HIM ‘HIS LIEGE’?”

“Aaaa- are you kidding me?” Groaned Aegidius. “This suuuuucksssss…”

“Well, maybe next time you will be more careful, My Liege.”

“I’m trying.” Harrumphed Aegidius even as Pupponius began carrying him off-screen. “Things just kinda happen, Puppy.”

“Pupponious, my Liege.”

“Things just happen! I don’t mean it to, but I just get hurt and there isn’t really much I can do about it. I just let myself fall, cause stopping it usually means more broken bones or more damage.” He puffed his cheeks in anger, looking like a slightly miffed puppy who lost his favorite toy.

Roboute: “no… NO!”  
Jaghatai: “I CAN FEEL IT!”  
Magnus: “THE POWER it is too strong!”  
Fulgrim: “I AM POWERLESS TO IT!”  
Angron: What the hell is wrong with all of you!?”  
Roboute: “HE’S JUST TOO CUTE!”  
Magnus: “It is a weakness! I cannot best it!”  
Leman: “ALL HE’S DOIN IS MAKING EYES AND PUFFING HIS CHEEKS ALL OF YE ARE ON SOMETHIN-”  
Fulgrim: “YOU JUST DON’T UNDERSTAND! He’s too adorable!”

*secret club snickering*

“But you are always there for me at least!” The family saw the edges of a smile even as Aegidius was carried off.

“We are your Companions my liege. Of course we are.”

Emperor: “CONSTANTIN! GET YOUR GOLD PLATED REAR-END IN HERE RIGHT NOW!”

At this point, no one was on the vid any longer, and after Magos Lehm confirmed there was nothing left, it was shut off.

A few seconds, and the Captain General and his host barged into the room, coming before their Emperor. The Captain General, Constantin Valdor, stepped forward to the Emperor. “My Emperor! What is it you require?”

The Emperor violently pointed at the vid. “THE FUCK CONSTANTIN?”

“Uh, am I missing something my Emperor?”

The Emperor looked back at the screen, only to notice that it was black.

“MAGOS! TURN THE DAMN THING BACK ON AGAIN! SHOW HIM THE CUSTODES!”

The poor Magos fiddled around with the projector as he desperately hurried to set it up again, somehow managing to do so only in seconds and soon the loop of the Custodes calling Aegidius “my liege” was playing.

“EXPLAIN!” Demanded the Emperor, looking completely serious.

“Uh my liege… is that an Aeldari-Human hybrid?” Valdor asked, confused.

“WHAT? AH YES, NOT THE DAMNED POINT! WHY ARE YOU CALLING IT YOUR LIEGE?”

“Hey!” Piped up Roboute. “Aegidius is a ‘he’ not an it!”

“DETAILS! EXPLAIN CONSTANTIN!”

“What do you mean details!? He is your grandson!” Roboute kept popping up, willing to defend his not-born-yet-son.

“YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN!”

“Primarch Guilliman! You have a son!?” Asked one of the other Companions in the room. Another clapped, for some reason, while putting his flamer away.

“AGAIN, DETAILS FOR LATER! CONSTANTIN, WHAT IN THE EVER LOVING FUCK ARE YOU DOING BOWING TO HIM!?”

“Uh… sire…”

“WHAT?”

“I presume that like the TTS series, these are from the future?” Trying to bring back reason, Valdor continued.

“YEAH, WHAT ABOUT…”

“You mixed up the timelines again sire.”

“OH FOR FUCKS-”

“It happens sire.”

“NO! NO IT FUCKING DOESEN’T!”

“Not to anyone half competent anyway…” Snickered Magnus even as the Emperor whirled on him.

“IS THAT A CHALLENGE SONNY!?”

“Not a challenge, if I know I’m going to slaughter you before you have a chance.” Magnus quipped. The silent Custodes covered the part of his helmet where his mouth would be, looking between the two of them.

“JUST LIKE YOU DID THE WEBWAY?”

Some of the present Custodes recoiled in shock even as Konrad let out a wheeze of laughter.

“I DID NOT DO THAT YET OK?” Yelled back Magnus in his defense.

“HOW ABOUT BREAKING ALL OF MY EDICTS? AND WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY YET!?”

Konrad now outright laughed as Magnus desperately attempted to defend himself.

“YOU KNOW WHY I BROKE THEM!”

“THEN HOW ABOUT MAKING A DEAL WITH AN INTERGALACTIC TUMOR!?”

“ **ALRIGHT! ENOUGH PLEASE!”**

“Yes, enough please. Magnus is almost on literal fire.” Spoke up Corvus.

“And Konrad is starting to get a regular human shade of skin from all of the laughter…” Pointed out Sanguinius.

“I AM NOT DONE YET!”

“...So, are we dismissed?” Constantin asked, looking back to the Emperor, who just waved them off.

While leaving, Flamer Custodes turned around, looked toward Rogal and waved at him. Rogal nodded and gave a wave and slight smile back as he left. The Emperor gave him a look, and they promptly ignored the issue for now.

“...SO HOW ABOUT WE WATCH MORE VIDS!?” The Emperor supplied, hoping to ignore his blunder and hoping the secret doesn’t get out.

“HOLD ON! SO YOU CAN CRITICIZE ME BUT I CAN’T EVEN FIRE BACK!?” Yelled Magnus.

“SURE SONNY. JUST TRY, DADDY HAS A LOT MORE WHERE THAT CAME FROM!”

The last of the Custodes leaving the room froze and turned around in absolute shock from the words that just came from the Emperor’s mouth.

“OH… LET THE PERSONALITY SLIP A BIT TOO MUCH… SORRY ABOUT THAT, YOU CAN JUST GO.”

The silent Custodes paused, then shook his head and left with the others, done with his Father’s nonsense **for** **_today_ ** **.**

All the while, Magos Lehm finally found the next vid.

“Shall I play it Omnissiah?”

The Emperor merely waved a hand at him, indicating that he should and soon the vid began to play.

**...  
204.M42 **\- Fortress of Hera **  
...  
**

Roboute: “Wait… that’s not his room.”

Aegidius was sitting in a rigid chair, facing the holorecorder. A scowl on his face even as the very recognizable form of Cato Sicarius stood next to him.

“Explain, my liege.” Came a surprisingly strict voice from the Captain.

Roboute: “What?”  
Mortarion: “He is different.”  
Sanguinius: “That voice threw me off for a second…”

Aegidius sighed before bowing his head in apparent shame.

“Dad… don’t be mad at me please… I just wanted to see what was going on!”

Roboute: “See what was going on? What does he mean? Did he sneak out of the fortress or?”  
Sanguinius: “Watch and we find out brother.”

“I uh…” Aegidius looked up toward Sicarius with a guilty look even as the Captain nodded.

“I… snuck into the war room…”

Roboute: “YOU WHAT YOUNG MAN!?”

Sicarius made a hand motion, as if there was more to be said.

Aegidius scowled, “come on… Can I please not do this? My- my tailbone. It huuuuurts…” He weakly whined.

“That’s not true and you know it. Say it.” Sicarius quickly responded, cutting off the act from the child.

“FINE! I snuck into the War Room and I made Uncle Leman’s fur cloak catch on fire! And Uncle Vulkan’s favorite mug lost its handle… And Uncle Konrad may have accidentally gone blind after I shone too brightly when they found me…”

Leman: “YER FUCKIN WAT KIDDO!?”  
Magnus: *Chokes on drink of water*  
Vulkan: “I forgive you, little mutant nephew!”  
Konrad: “Goodness gracious me, this reality can’t possibly be real can it?”  
Sanguinius: “What? Konrad, what did you just say? And why are you there?”  
Konrad: “I don’t know and I DON’T WANT TO KNOW!”  
Roboute: “...how. HOW. How is MY SON, a little whirlwind of destruction!?”  
Rogal: “If he was not so physically similar to you brother, I would suggest that he is in fact, Perturabo’s son.”  
Konrad: *Asshole wheeze*  
Perturabo: “OKAY, HOW ABOUT YOU GO AND COUPLE WITH A CACTUS.”

*Visible shock and pause*

Rogal: “I shall do this.”  
Emperor: “NO ROGAL! DON’T ACTUALLY DO IT DAMMIT!”  
Rogal: “Cacti are mighty natural fortifications, surely there is much to be learned from them.”

“And what else?” Sicarius prodded, wanting him to admit to the final part.

Aegidius glanced at the screen, then back to Sicarius, then back and forth. “Please don’t make me say it.”

“Just get it over with.”

Silence, then a sigh from the child as he mentally fortified himself, the chair around him slowly getting covered with frost and soon, full-on ice crystals.

“...I’m sorry that I broke the War Table and summoned a daemon into the room.”

Magnus: “WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK!?”  
Rogal: “The table is meant to be leaned on by potentially hundreds of regular human beings.”  
Roboute: “For once the obviousness is actually useful. How, by all the marble on Macragge, did he break a war table, SUMMON A DAEMON, and how is ICE forming all over him?”  
Emperor: “THE ICE PART IS MERELY HIS PSYCHIC ANGER BEING PENT UP AND EXPRESSED, EVEN AS ONLY A PARTIAL AELDARI HIS PSYCHIC POTENTIAL IS MOST LIKELY MASSIVE. SUMMONING A DAEMON THOUGH...?”  
Lorgar: “I uh… not even I know where to begin.”  
Magnus: “Me neither.”  
Roboute: “This is just getting worse and worse for the poor boy…”  
Angron: “Sometimes I can’t even tell if you care or just act like it for the damn nobility of it all Guilliman.”  
Roboute: “I am beyond offended you would actually think that about me. I swear that it’s real brother I just… I’m just still overwhelmed is all.”  
Jaghatai: “...I recall the young boy saying something about daemons on Macragge last time. And with how he reacts when uncomfortable, I can see how.”  
Horus: “Imperium Secundus being active would also mean far _far_ smaller borders..”  
Mortarion: “It's all just going to hell.”  
Konrad: *thinks for a bit* “...yeah, everything really is going to shit. How does this make you feel?” *looking directly at the Emperor*  
Emperor: “HONESTLY… FUCKING TERRIBLE. I MEAN, MY CUSTODES HAVE ABANDONED ME, THE ENTIRE IMPERIUM IS FALLING APART AND MY GRANDSON IS A COMPLETE AND UTTER KLUTZ.”  
Roboute: “I… I can’t even complain about that.”  
Emperor: “NOT TO FUCKING MENTION THAT APPARENTLY A DAEMON JUST MANIFESTED ITSELF IN THE WAR ROOM. THANK GOODNESS THAT THERE WERE PRIMARCHS THERE TO PROTECT HIM! IMAGINE WHAT WOULD HAVE HAPPENED!”  
Roboute: “Father… please just don’t... I don’t want to imagine that...”  
Magnus: “Depends on the Daemon to be fully truthful, but if it destroyed the war table…”  
Leman: “Bugger must have been massive.”

“And that’s why I’m personally sending this message to our Father, so he can make sure you don’t do something like this again!” Sicarius ground out to Aegidius, crossing his arms over his chest plate and looking down at the child. “And right when we got word back that your  **mother** is coming back to the planet soon.”

“WAIT NO! NO, YOU CAN TELL DAD! I CAN TAKE THE TWO HOUR LECTURE! BUT PLEASE NO. DON’T TELL MOM! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT IT'S LIKE WHEN SHE GIVES THAT LOOK OF PURE DISAPPOINTMENT? I SWEAR BIG BRO SHE STARES DIRECTLY INTO MY SOUL AND JUDGES ME!” he began to beg, hoping his mother wouldn’t hear about what he did.

Jaghatai: *winces*  
Fulgrim: *covers his face*  
Magnus: “Oh no…”  
Vulkan: “...the dreaded mother of anger…”  
Roboute: *flashbacks to Euten’s punishments*

“BIG BRO! PLEASE NO! THE LAST TIME SHE EVEN MADE ME MEDITATE FOR HOURS! THEN I HAD TO STAND IN THE CORNER! I AM WAY TOO OLD FOR-

Sicarius quickly held up a hand. “Far too much detail my liege, far too much, you have made your point.”

“Thank you, big bro… thank you… last time I was sore for a week…”

“You need to be careful, my liege.” Chided Sicarius once more even as he gave a surprisingly gentle pat on Aegidius’ head.

“Now. I do believe the milk rations are stocked up more than they should be.”

The family didn’t actually see the Captain's face as due to Aegidius’ short stature, the holocam appeared to only be able to capture Sicarius from the chest downwards, though they did notice the Captains distinguishable helmet mag-locked to his thigh.

Roboute: “Rations for milk? But Agriworld Herba should be relatively nearby… I  _ really _ don’t like where this is going.”

“Does that mean we can have ice-cream?” Asked Aegidius a hopeful look on the child's face even as a surprising chuckle was heard from the Captain.

“Only if you promise to be good from now on.”

“I will! I promise! No more daemons, I’m going to focus and-and do my homework and train and-”

Vulkan: “He is but the cutest little mutant!”  
Roboute: “I don’t know whether to be offended or not but I am far too inclined to agree with you to be angry at that statement.”  
Emperor: “INDEED, ABSOLUTELY ADORABLE.”  
Magnus: “Just wait until he gets to puberty…”  
Emperor: “WHAT WAS THAT YOUNG MAN?”  
Magnus: “Nothing, nothing at all.”

A chuckle was heard from the Captain in growing volume as Aegidius continued to give reasons as to how good he would be.

“Your strategy is sound little brother. Come.” Sicarius held out an armoured hand. “Let us go find some Ice-Cream.”

“Yay!” Yelled Aegidius even as he quickly took the Captain's hand and they walked off-screen even as one of them apparently pressed the button to stop recording.

Emperor: “WELL, THAT’S THAT, I SUPPOSE-”  
Rogal: “Father. There is more.”  
Emperor: “WAIT WHAT? BUT THE MESSAGE IS OVER.”  
Rogal: “There is more. The vid would have shut off into a black screen, but it has not.”

And this was true, the vid continued on.

The feed fuzzed into what appeared to be a security holocam of the corridor. There were various other people and servitors walking about, but down the middle quickly padded Aegidius, holding onto Sicarius’ hand and occasionally lifting himself on it, giggling as they went. Occasionally, he would lift his little brother higher, bringing whoops of joy from the child. Sicarius’ footsteps were tiny in comparison to the tread of a usual Space Marine.

And on the Captain's face, was a big dumb grin.

Roboute: “It’s… It’s actually kind of nice to see both Aegidius and even Sicarius actually enjoying themselves.”  
Lion: “Why doesn’t he just carry him? They’d obviously get to their destination quicker if they just stop wasting time.”  
Vulkan: “I would not call that wasting time, my brother. They are just having fun!”  
Sanguinius: “Having fun, every now and then, does wonders for morale, you know.”  
Emperor: “IT’S KIND OF COMICAL TO SEE A SPACE MARINE TAKING SUCH CARE TO SLOW DOWN AND JUST HAVE FUN. I WONDER WHY… HUH… I SUPPOSE THE CRUSADE DOESN’T LEAVE MUCH TIME TO THEMSELVES TO JUST SLOW DOWN AND ENJOY THEIR TIME.”

The feed buzzed over to another cam, to what appeared to be a storage warehouse, the two figures walked over to a box labeled “GOODS AND MORALE” and Sicarius pried open the sealed box, pulling out a tiny container of Ice-Cream and giving it to a very jumped up Aegidius.

Aegidius appeared to say something to the Captain, which made Sicarius smile again even as the boy sat down on a small crate, and using the tiny attached spoon, began to eat the ancient treat.

He stopped midway to his mouth and appeared to offer some to the Captain who reluctantly denied the treat and instead sat on a crate of his own, unlocking the Plasma Pistol at his thigh and beginning to check the weapon for any issues.

Roboute: “...yeah, now I can see it. He definitely is my son.”  
Vulkan: “You would definitely instill a humbleness into him.”  
Angron: “You? Humble? That’s a fucking laugh.”  
Roboute: “I can be, you know. And I would want my children to know to both be humble and giving… And from what I can see, there isn’t much  **to** share.”

Aegidius ate his tiny serving of Ice-Cream in about a minute and then looked up at Sicarius again, who was now in the process of fine-tuning the plasma pistol.

The boy uttered something which appeared to surprise the Captain, but then Sicarius reluctantly nodded and removed the Plasma cell of the pistol before handing it over to the tiny princeling.

He placed it very gently into both of Aegidius' outstretched hands and let go very slowly, only for Aegidius to be almost instantly knocked over by the weight, prevented from falling only by the Captain grabbing onto the collar of his jacket.

The Plasma pistol too was saved in the last instant, Sicarius sweeping it up with his other hand.

Aegidius sat back down on his crate with a sad look on his face and appeared to mutter something.

The Captain knelt in front of him and put the Plasma pistol onto his lap while saying something that caused a grin to appear on the child's face even as curious, tiny hands roamed over the entire pistol. Tracing every bit of artifice on the weapon even as Sicarius pointed to various buttons and switches, appearing to explain how it worked.

Aegidius then attempted to lift it again only to not be able to even really nudge the heavy weapon, but instead of getting frustrated he seemed to emit a laugh, one matched by the Captain even as the vid cut to black.

The vid was finally over, the screen black, and nothing else was showing up. Magos Lehm began the rites of cleaning and so on, while the family just absorbed that final scene in the storehouse.

“He really is a sweet child, isn’t he?” Sanguinius spoke up, feeling fuzzy from the last moment.

Roboute nodded, a smile gracing his face as he thought back to not just this vid, but the rest of them. He was embarrassed to feel the overwhelming urge to respond to a vid of the future, and how much he wanted to know about this boy. It was shocking, and at times frightening on how much he cared in such a short time. This might be how parents usually feel? “He really is. Despite how clumsy, how much of a whirlwind of destruction he can be and how he seems to fumble through his studies… I honestly don’t care. He’s a good kid and I’m proud of him.”


	4. Regicide

Since the last time, the family had already watched 3 of the vids of the future. Technically, 4, but that one was so short, it was barely even a vid at all. The last vid ended with Aegidius and Cato having a genuinely sweet moment, how the boy first thought to share with his brother, before even taking a bite of his treat.

To Roboute, this action was what wouldn’t leave his mind. Something so small, so insignificant, was enough to solidify something in his own mind. He knew why it did, the future was alluding to a much darker, more broken future. A future that put the future of the vids of before to shame. If only they could see more, learn more about the future, maybe then they would have a better understanding on how to stop it.

From what he was able to gather from the vids so far, beyond what his son would show, it had to allude to a darker picture. Rationing, even inside the Fortress of Hera, from what he was able to gather there were frequent war councils that his son was able to peek in on and allusions of the Emperor being gone. Or even worse, if he possibly could be dead. How Aegidius was already being pressured to becoming the new Emperor, Roboute just knew that everything must be beyond grim if this is what he had gathered so far…

“We need to watch more, Father.” Roboute spoke up, looking over to the Emperor who nodded to himself. “Even if these messages are meant for me, the world beyond, the Imperium has more for us to learn from. If you would permit, we could watch more to gain a better understanding of what lies in the far future?”

“I AGREE, ROBOUTE. THERE ARE A FEW PARTS OF THIS THAT WORRY ME, ESPECIALLY SINCE YOUR IMPERIUM SECUNDUS IS IN EFFECT.” The Emperor had at first been livid at the idea that Roboute had planned for Imperium Secundus, his first thought being his son would usurp his power. But after some thought and consideration, having a backup plan in case the worst happened was a good idea…

“Not to mention that Custodes, Father.” Horus spoke up from the Emperor’s right. “How they called the boy their liege is worrying, to say the least. I agree with Roboute, more can be learned from…” He gestured a hand to the pile of vids, as if they were waiting to be played, to show their secrets. “...them.”

“I am intrigued, I would like to see the fortifications of Macragge. There was the summoning of a Daemon into the heart of the Fortress of Hera.” Rogal intoned, making Perturabo sigh as he ignored the Praetorian.

“SO, WE ALL AGREE?” The Emperor looked to the rest of his sons, who all either agreed or would grunt in disinterest. “GREAT. MAGOS, PLEASE PLAY THE VID THAT IS CLOSEST TO THE LAST.”

Magos Lehm nodded and came to the pile, pulling out the next, pausing. “Omnissiah.” A look, and then he brought up a few more vids with his other hand and a few of his mechadendrites. “There are more vids now.”

“What?” Magnus blinked a few times before looking and quickly counting the vids again before stopping and counting yet again. “WHAT.”

“MAGNUS?” The Emperor asked, looking between his son and the vid pile. He began to quickly count the pile as well, then came to the same conclusion. “...WHAT.”

“Wot tae hell is wrong wit ye?” Leman asked looking between his Father and brother.

Magos Lehm spoke up, answering the question that the Omnissiah and his son would not answer, the both of them squawking more “what”s. “There are more vids than before, my lord. There were 136 vids, however there are now 172.”

“WOT.” Leman looked at the pile, quickly counting as well, then throwing his hands into the air as he tried to figure out how 36 more vids came to be. “WOT TAE FOOK-!?”

“No one touched the pile, right?” Fulgrim asked, Ferrus gained a flat look on his face as he tried to comprehend how this possibly could have happened. Fulgrim tried to figure out how this happened, but other than warp fuckery, there wasn’t much reason on how this happened in the first place…

“I assure you! No one has touched the pile! It’s just been sitting there!” Magnus spoke up, using his powers to sort through the vids as he counted them again, angry that the number was still the same. “They have been sitting there since the chest opened, and we began to watch the vids. And somehow, SOMEHOW, there are more vids!”

The only ones who weren’t perplexed by this, happened to be the two who had first found said vids. The twins looked at each other, then to the open chest. “Perhaps this chest…” Spoke maybe Alpharius, as possibly Omegon continued, “...is a warp anomaly that…” Then they spoke together, kinda, maybe, “...we shouldn’t even try to understand?”

“You… You  **want** us to not try to understand what the hell happened that 36 new vids just…  **MATERIALIZED** into existence without us noticing!?” Magnus could feel his patience and a bit of his sanity slipping away at the sheer madness of this statement.

“Yes.” The twins grinned, speaking together. Or did they?

“I uh… just… to be fair… there has been weirder things in my life…” Slowly spoke Magnus, rubbing his eyes in defeat.

From his own throne, Angron spoke up finally, “And? I don’t fucking care how it happened. It did. Now shut up and let’s get this over with. The sooner we start, the sooner we don’t have to see anymore of the smurf’s brat.”

Guilliman gave an angry glare towards his brother, who reciprocated it with his own uncaring look even as the vid  _ finally _ began to play.

**...  
204.M42 - Fortress of Hera, ?????  
...  
**

The vid opened up into… darkness?

“Oh, wait, the lens is turned down.”

The holorecorder was twisted around, showing Aegidius’ blank expression. Surprisingly, there were a few healing scratches upon his face, it was in disarray and dirty with what appeared to be dust, while the part of his uniform that was visible looked slightly torn and dirty.

Roboute: “What happened to him!?”  
Sanguinius: “I don’t know, just wait.”  
Lion: “Hilarious that you tell him to wait.”  
Sanguinius: “What do you mean by that?”  
Konrad: “Give it time…”

Suddenly, a white armoured hand, holding a damp gauze came into the frame and lightly brushed one of the scratches.

“You don’t need to do that…” weakly protested Aegidius, even as the hand retreated, the gauze slightly red from blood.

“Just one more scratch do disinfect little Lord.” Came the rumble of a Marine's voice from a helmets vox-caster.

The hand re-appeared again, holding what appeared to be fresh damp gauze, and brushed another scar before quickly retreating.

Aegidius now looked out of frame, presumably at the Apothecary who was tending to him.

“Thank you Brother!” He said, the light smile appearing to be genuine.

“Only doing my duty, my liege.” Spoke the voice of screen again even as a massive rumble shook wherever they were.

Roboute: “Oh, okay, maybe he just fell over again.”  
Lorgar: “Must have been one hell of a trip if he managed to scuff himself and his uniform up that much.”  
Roboute: “Everything is fine-”  
Konrad: “Fate has a way of destroying ignorance.”

“All Astartes forces within the fortress! All Astartes forces within the fortress!” Came a voice from a loud Vox speaker. “Deploy to the western gate! Deploy to the western gate!”

Roboute: “OH COME ON-”  
Konrad: “Told you.”

A Marine was heard running off-screen, presumably the Apothecary even as Aegidius sighed, an unhappy frown appearing on his face even as his ears sagged.

“All because of me…” He murmured even as he turned the holorecorder away from him, showing a long, expansive, well decorated hallway.

Lorgar: “Underground, obviously, but where?”  
Roboute: “The Hall of the Revered dead, in the Fortress of Hera… what is he doing there?”  
Rogal: “It appears to be well fortified. Thus, he is the for the purposes of his own security. Most likely.”  
Emperor: “I AM WONDERING WHAT HE MEANS BY HOW IT IS BECAUSE OF HIM.”  
Vulkan: “Or why our little nephew is so calm during an attack?”

The holorecorder moved even as Aegidius’ awkward footsteps were heard, the sound of his boots lightly tapping off of the marble floor soon becoming a constant rhythm next to the occasional explosion which caused a tremor.

He walked for a while until he finally stopped at one of the massive alcoves that were periodically scattered across the entire length of the hallway.

The holorecorder was pointed into the alcove, and it’s occupant revealed…

Rogal: “Dreadnoughts.”  
Guilliman: “Indeed, the hall is where we give them rest… but this Dreadnought…  
Emperor: “IT’S ONE OF MINE. A CUSTODES.”  
Horus: “Hm, so the Dreadnoughts made it too…”  
Emperor: “BUT THIS ONE LOOKS FAMILIAR…”

“Brother Santodes!”

Emperor: “ARE YOU KIDDING ME!? HE’S STILL ALIVE!?”

*Collective shuddering as they remember **it** *

Corvus: “...at least he’s inside of a regular Dreadnaught and not his… unique one…”  
Emperor: “SMALL MIRACLES…”

A whir was heard, as apparently the Dreadnought inside of the alcove was only in a light slumber, despite all of the cabling and tubes being attached. The whir increased into a steady whine as the Dreadnoughts eye lenses light up, indicating that he had fully awakened.

Emperor:  **“WAIT WHAT. WHAT.** ”  
Ferrus: “Aren’t dreadnaughts only able to be awoken by-”  
Emperor: “ **THE CUSTODES AND THEIR DREADNAUGHTS ONLY ANSWER AND CAN BE WOKEN BY ME AND OR AN EXTENSIVE AWAKENING PROCEDURE BY A TECHMARINE! HOW IN THE SHIT IS HE ABLE TO DO IT!?** ”  
Lorgar: “I… I really wish I had an answer to this. Kid can’t possibly be-”  
Roboute: “Call my son with any description even remotely related to the divine, and I will  _ personally  _ throw my throne at you, Lorgar.”  
Lorgar: “Okay, okay, fine.”  
Emperor: “ **I WANT SOME FUCKING ANSWERS.** ”

“Did somebody call for me?” Came the deep, bass-like rumble of the Dreadnoughts voice, moments before the head turned and fixed Aegidius with a stare.

“Ah, little liege, what can I do for you today?”

Emperor:  **“EVEN HE IS CALLING HIM LIEGE! WHAT IN THE HELL!?”  
** Lorgar: “I thought you said hell didn’t exi-”  
Emperor:  **“DON’T PUSH YOUR LUCK SONNY! I AM** **_BEYOND_ ** **FURIOUS RIGHT NOW.”**

“There is an… an…”

The entire hallways shook again even as some dust came flying down.

“Attack.” The Dreadnought spoke. “Have you awakened me for battle?”

“No uh… I just want some time alone and… and…”

“Did you bring the board?”

Ferrus: “DID HE JUST AWAKEN A CUSTODES DREADNOUGHT TO PLAY REGICIDE WHILE AN ATTACK IS GOING ON!?”  
Roboute: “YES. YES HE DID. AEGIDIUS, SEND HIM UP THERE DON’T JUST WASTE HIS TIME-”  
Emperor: “ **ONE OF MY GOLDEN BOYS IS BEING USED AS A GLORIFIED NANNY FOR YOUR SON, ONE OF MY BEAUTIFUL GOLDEN BOYS IN A DREADNOUGHT IS BEING USED TO ENTERTAIN A CHILD. I DON’T KNOW IF I SHOULD BE EVEN MORE LIVID OR FUCKING LAUGH.** ”  
Lorgar: “Careful, or you’ll get so angry, you’ll enter a homeostasis of anger.”  
Emperor: “ **THAT DOESN’T FUCKING EXIST LORGAR.** ”  
Roboute: “Actually, yes, it does.”  
Emperor: “ **YOU’RE NOT HELPING, ROBOUTE.** ”

“Yeah!” A very familiar looking board was shown in front of the holorecorder. “I was able to grab it when I had to run here! I only tripped three times on the way!”

Roboute: “...did he seriously,  _ seriously _ , just take down my  _ personal _ regicide board that was passed down from my Father, Konor, from his father, down to the Hall of the Revered dead!?”  
Konrad: “Yeah. He did. Can’t wait for this pay off.”  
Roboute: “WHAT payoff?”  
Sanguinius: “...you’ll see.”  
Lorgar: *Slowly begins to grin*

There was a slight rumble from the Dreadnought, perhaps laughter?

“Indeed. Shall we play then?”

“Yeah! Oh and-” A hand came in front of the holorecorder, lifting it higher. “-I’m going to record it! So I can get better!”

“Good strategy little one.” Praised the Dreadnought, even as Aegidius quickly padded over, and sat down on the marble floor in front of the giant before opening up the board.

Corvus: “...are we really seeing a Dreadnought and a child playing a game of regicide in a crypt while there is a battle going on above them?”  
Leman: “Yep.”  
Emperor: “ **CORRECTION. WE ARE ABOUT TO WATCH A CHILD MISUSE MY GOLDEN BOY TO PLAY A GAME OF REGICIDE IN A CRYPT WHILE WHAT SOUNDS TO BE A PRETTY BAD AND DANGEROUS BATTLE RAGES ON ABOVE THEM IN THE FORTRESS OF HERA. AM I THE ONLY ONE WHO SEES HOW INSANE THIS IS!?** ”  
Roboute: “OF COURSE I SEE HOW INSANE THIS IS, FATHER. ALL OF US DO.”  
Jaghatai: “Pointing out the obvious isn’t really our strong suit. We have Rogal for that.”  
Rogal: “I-”  
Perturabo: *Smacks*  
Rogal: “My point is made.”  
Perturabo: “What!?”  
Rogal: *Wink*  
Perturabo: “Played like a damned piece on a Regi… I give up.”

“Would you like to be Emperor little one?” Rumbled the Dreadnought even as the board powered up, generating  _ random  _ pieces and Aegidius let out a slight whine.

“I… not really no…”

“One day that very role might be upon you, you cannot avoid destiny forever.”

“Yeah… I know… sure I guess, I will be Emperor.”

Emperor: *INTERNALLY SCREAMING*

“Fantastic. Then I shall begin, Worldclaimer to C 3.”

The piece moved via the voice command, and Aegidius quickly reached out a hand.

“I move… I move…. Guard to C 5.”

The piece moved.

“You look disturbed little liege, did something other than the attack happen?”

Aegidius let out a slight groan.

“No…”

“My liege. There is no need to lie to me.”

“I… well…”

**...  
 _Earlier  
..._**

The feed suddenly switched over to the much more familiar view of Aegidius’ room. This time, the recorder captured the massive space of the middle part of his room, with the shiny marble flooring, the centerpiece of the tiling of the Ultramarines Sigil with an Aeldari twist upon it. Aegidius sat on the floor upon some cushions, an empty spot before him, as if waiting to be filled.

Roboute: “Wait hold on. Last time, we saw camera splicing, but now this is entirely different! As soon as he says this, somehow, the vid changes to the event?”  
Horus: “That must mean someone is making these vids, putting them together and is sending them to us.”  
Konrad: “Like the fucking transdimensional chest of vids, being sent through a warp hyperbole and time current didn’t make that obvious.”  
Magnus: “What did you just say Konrad!?”  
Konrad: “What?! What are you babbling on about?”  
Magnus: *Obvious confusion*

From this perspective, and being so close to an Aeldari, the boys own features really started to come out. From the shape of his eyes, his own cheekbones and even from how long his own body was. But also his human features, from his brow, nose and even how… chubby he was compared to the elder Aeldari.

Roboute: *Urge to pinch cheeks increased*

“Focus young one. You must focus.”

Aegidius was sitting on the floor, his eyes closed and his uniform as immaculate as ever.

“I am…” Grunted Aegidius even as an Eldar farseer in full armour slowly walked into view.

“By the gods child… not so much that you tense up! Relax your muscles, let your body sink to the floor, then push your mind outwards…” The farseer paced through the room, explaining the process, with a hint of annoyance on his face from the action. He imagined that slamming his head into a wall would be much more productive use of his time…

Magnus: “Oh come on… Teaching children about the warp and how to use their powers is a long, tedious process. Anyone who has done that before would understand that.”  
Emperor: “SO-”  
Magnus: “You do know I came from a planet that encourages and teaches young psykers all the time, correct?”  
Emperor: “YOU THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO ASK YOU ABOUT SOMETHING ELSE?”  
Magnus: *Sputters in surprise*  
Jaghatai: “To be fair, you have been asking us about that a lot.”

“I’m… trying….” Grunted Aegidius, his face going redder by the minute.

The farseer threw his hands up and shot back, “OH! By the- RELAX! You are tensed up!”

“But-but… I’m trying my best…” He opened his eyes and looked up at the Farseer, the child was shivering ever so slightly.

“No! You were at least in the beginnings of a trance! Now we have to start all over…”

“What!? All thirty minutes!?”

“Yes!” He looked down at the child, a look of resignation painted for all to see. “Because you cannot simply escape your mind!”

Lorgar: “Is that how it usually goes when doing that type of training?”  
Magnus: “Not really. If they have been at this for as long as they said, then I can understand some frustration. Getting into a trance like state should be doable by any young psyker with the right training. But if they’ve been at this for a year and he still hasn’t made much progress…”

“I’m-I’m trying-”

“Not enough!”

“But-”

“Excuses excuses!”

“I’m-I’m-” A tear came to Aegidius’ eye, he was trying so hard! It was not his fault none of this made sense! His teacher just expected him to know what it meant to meditate, or how to look at his soul, or- or anything about the psychic arts! He just wanted to scream!

*Sound of metal bending*

*The family turned to Roboute, who had bent the arm-rests of his throne*

Roboute: “I am going to kill every single  _ fucking _ Eldar I get my hands on…”  
Rogal: “...Then how will you have your son?”  
Perturabo: *Smacks*  
Roboute: *Face slowly goes red*  
Rogal: “It was a valid question.”

“Trying! Yes, you have said so for the umpteenth time! But it is not enough, how can you expect yourself to yield the currents of the great sea if you cannot even focus properly!?” The farseer began to rub at his temples. He never should have agreed to teach this half breed. Prophet or not.

Emperor: “AGAIN WITH THIS WHOLE TITLE AND PROPHET BUSINESS. I SWEAR, WE BETTER GET SOME ANSWERS SOON, OR ELSE SANGUINIUS WILL START CHEWING THROUGH HIS THRONE.”  
Sanguinius: “N-no I wouldn’t…”

The visions he has had about the boy didn’t make any sense! The boy was supposed to wield power untold, to light the path of redemption and renewal. The visions had told so much about the boy- but none of this was working! They had been at this for nearly a year, and the boy could still barely make his way past his own mortal body!

Emperor: *stops and thinks about what this means*  _ No… He couldn’t…? It would make sense, but maybe not… It would make sense… _

“I-I-” The distress was now evident on the poor boys face. He was doing something wrong, he knew he was! None of this made sense, he just kept making mistakes! What was wrong with him!? Why couldn’t he just do something right!?

Roboute: *Snaps hand rest clean off*

“Damn your Mon-keigh father... If only the Emissary could have lain with a pure breed.” He muttered to himself, knowing that all of these problems just had to be about the boy’s parentage. If this was a full Eldar child, he wouldn’t be this- be this…  _ this… useless _ .

Roboute: “Wait- NO!”  
Mortarion: “Brother, I am sickened and disappointed.”  
Roboute: “WE BARELY EVEN TALKED IN THE FUTURE! HOW IS THIS MY FAUL-”  
Sanguinius: “CAN WE JUST WATCH AND TALK LATER!?”

This snapped Aegidius out from his own thoughts, focusing on his teacher. “I- hey can you… please not talk about dad-”

...unless… The farseer had an idea. What if he were to help Aegidius along…? Provoking anger has helped many students before unlock their potential. So what would happen if he were to provoke him? “Oh! So your father is who gets you out of your stupor!?”

Magnus: “ARE YOU KIDDING ME?”  
Emperor: “WHAT IN THE FUCKING FUCK? NO. THAT IS A  **TERRIBLE** AWFUL IDEA.”  
Roboute: *Nervousness intensifying*  
Lorgar: “Bets on how badly this will backfire?”  
Konrad: “300 on him causing another incident.”  
Roboute: “YOUR TAKING BETS ON HOW BADLY MY SON WILL FUCK UP!?”  
Horus: “Now, now Roboute, calm yourself! This is entirely inappropriate of course and they did not say fuck up. They specified incident… that said put me on 400 thrones on him fucking up.”  
Roboute: “OH YOU CAN GO TO HELL HORUS.”  
Horus: *Dickish snickering*  
Jaghatai: “Put me down for 1000 on the instructor not walking away from this alive.”  
Lorgar: “That… that is being very specific brother.”  
Jaghatai: “Call it a hunch.”

“Dad is-”

“Useless! If you were a purebreed you would be capable of a simple meditation!”

“That’s not-”

“But your weakling father had to give into his cravings!” That was a low blow, he knew it. But the anger he feels from the boy, it is causing something to happen. Yes, this had to be the right path. If he were to push a bit harder, perhaps then his power could be unlocked?

Roboute: “WAIT WHAT- I DID!?”  
Mortarion: “So disgusting.”  
Rogal: “Brother.”  
Roboute: “What is it Rogal?”  
Rogal: “Do you not know the basics of human copulation-”  
Perturabo: *SMACKS*  
Roboute: “... thank you Perturabo.”  
Perturabo: “My pleasure.”  
Rogal: “Always were more efficient at knocking down walls than putting them up.”  
Jaghatai: *nods approvingly at Rogal*  
Perturabo: “YOU WHA-”  
Sanguinius:  ***VAMPIRIC SCREECHING*  
** Perturabo: “...let us watch.”

“Don’t-”

“Just like your entire race! A failure from start to end!”

“DAD ISN’T-”

“Just like you! A damned failure!”

“I-”

Almost there. He could  _ feel  _ it, like a dam waiting to break. He just needed to push a bit more, then… Then maybe, perhaps the visions would be true… “Just like your father and your mother. A damned failure and a waste of my time!”

“TAKE THAT BACK!”

The edge in Aegidius voice sounded… different.

Emperor: “OH NO.”  
Roboute: “WHAT? WHAT IS HAPPENING TO HIM?!”  
Magnus: “That voice… it indicates… something different.”  
Roboute: “Different? Different how!?”  
Magnus: “I… I can’t really describe it.”

“Why? Why should I?!” Yes! This must have been it! Just manifest a bit more, just a bit more- then whatever is within this child, whatever his potential is, could finally be awakened!

“DO NOT INSULT DAD AND MOM!” It gained almost an… aetheric voice…

Emperor:  _ This all seems so familiar… _

“Oh! Your weak point! Fantastic!”

“STOP  _ NOW! _ ” It almost had a…  _ daemonic _ tang to it. The very air around the child appeared to electrify and tense.

Lorgar: “I can almost feel it…”  
Magnus: “Its warp energy obviously, but it's being leak-ney redirected from somewhere.”  
Lorgar: “It feels… it feels like…”  
Emperor: “THE ASTRONOMICON.”

*Stunned silence*

This excited the teacher, he had never seen a child with this much power and potential! Manifesting something like this at this young- yes! The visions were right!  **He** was right!

...but… What happened at the end? What would happen if he were to push just a bit farther? “Or what?! You will wail at me like some infant!?”

“ **STOP!”**

The final push- just one more, he knew it! Show your true potential! “Filthy mon-keigh-”

**“BEGONE FROM MY SIGHT!”**

*The family are literally knocked backwards by the overtly  _ familiar _ voice*

Aegidius’ entire body glowed with a blinding golden light, even as a mere instant later, all of that energy was blown outwards, causing an ear-splitting quake as the very air in front of him  _ exploded _ with energy.

The Farseer did not even have time to react as he was completely obliterated out of existence, his very  _ soul _ being reduced to ashes even as the entire fortified wall collapsed like a stack of autumn leaves.

Emperor: “HOLY SHI-”

A door was seen flying past the holorecorder, even as a glimmer of Gold and Blue Power Armour was seen as the golden light concentrated into an incredible force and shoot out directly toward the sky in a torrent of screaming voices.

It flew until it hit Macragge's atmospheres, where it split like a stream of water upon hitting rocks. It continued to burn until…

Lorgar: “Are those- are those  **ANGELS** !?”

The flying white neverborn appeared to look the exact opposite of their ancient portrayals however, the wings and clothing appeared to be there, but that is where the similarities truly ended.

Their fingers were incredibly sharp claws, their mouths a maw of teeth and their faces the very definition of the word horrific.

Soon however, the light changed, turning from burning white to oozing purple and black as a Warp Rift opened in its place and soon, the Angels were fighting Daemonic neverborn even as an entire legion of the abominations began to be spewed out.

Magnus: “WHAT IN THE EVERLOVING FU-”  
Emperor: “A WARP LEAK CAUSED BY AN ENERGETIC FLOW INTO- OH NO!”

The loud wail of an alarm was heard even as a pair of Custodes and Captain Sicarius managed to grab onto and drag off Aegidius, his aura appearing to calm down as they threw him to the floor.

“Aegidius!” Came the harsh, Vox augmented voice of Cato Sicarius as he quite literally slapped Aegidius out of his trance with his armoured hand.

The child came to and appeared to realize what was happening.

“We need to get him to safety! Immediately!” Spoke a Custodes.

*Roboute stood up fast, knocking his throne down in the process*

Roboute: “DO AS THE DAMNED CUSTODES SAYS!”  
Leman: “Yer know yer yelling at a scree-”  
Roboute: “I DON’T CARE RIGHT NOW!”

“Agreed!” Echoed Sicarius even as the alarms intensified and the entire fortress began to shake and the very sun appeared to simply disappear even as darkness overtook the feed for a second before the lights came on.

Roboute: “HOW BAD IS THAT?!”  
Magnus: “... very…”  
Roboute: “HOW BAD IS ‘VERY’?!”  
Emperor: “HORRIBLE.”  
Roboute: *internal screaming*

“Lets go!” Said another even as he picked up Aegidius.

“My-my holorecorder!” Cried Aegidius, desperately reaching for the object.

“Ah dammit!” Cursed Sicarius, before grabbing it and running out of the room.

Outside of it could only be described as chaos.

Rubble was everywhere as the entire fortress shook. Space Marines and Guardsmen were seen running to man their battlestations even as the group of Custodes and Sicarius kept running.

“Where to!?” Asked one of the Custodes.

Sicarius caught up and the holocam showed their plight, the stairwell was blocked with rubble.

Roboute: “How-how bad is that daemonic presence that  _ this _ level of damage is being done!?”  
Emperor: “MASSIVE. AEGIDIUS MANAGED TO OPEN UP A WARP TEAR DIRECTLY INTO THE DEEPEST PLAINS OF THE WARP. THE SHOCKWAVES AS WELL AS DAEMONIC ENTITIES IT CAN SUMMON ARE ALMOST INUMERABLE.”  
Roboute: “ **How** does he have this much power!?”  
Emperor: “TECHNICALLY MAGNUS HAS THIS MUCH POWER. BUT I SUSPECT IT WAS MORE OF A CASE OF RE-ROUTING HIS PSYCHIC POTENTIAL FROM SOMEWHE…”  
Roboute: “Well!? What!?”  
Emperor: “I NEED TO THINK MORE ABOUT THIS.”  
Roboute: “WHAT?!”  
Emperor: “I NEED TO RESEARCH THIS MORE BEFORE I CAN FULLY ANSWER.”  
Roboute: “DAMN IT ALL FATHER-”  
Emperor: “BE PATIENT! I WILL ANSWER AS SOON AS I CAN. NOW STOP ACTING LIKE SANGUINIUS BEING DENIED MORE VIEWING TIME.”

Without thinking, the Captain smashed a window to his side.

“The sides are slopped! We will slide down and get his highness to the crypts! Its the nearest and safest place.”

The Custodes carrying Aegidius simple nodded and ran up to the window, even as the roof shook heavily under the power of  _ something. _

“JUMP, NOW!” Ordered Sicarius even as the roof came crashing down and the feed went black.

Roboute: “AEGIDIUS!”

The feed now switched back to the game of Regicide between Aegidius and the Dreadnought Santodes, they appeared to be on the ending moves.

Roboute: *Collapses back onto his fallen throne* “I… he survived… thank the throne…”  
Leman: “...yer do know that was a flashback, right? That this already happened and the earlier part was him after tae attack?”  
Roboute: “...shut up Leman.”  
Leman: “YER KNOW AHM RIGHT!”  
Roboute: “HOW WOULD YOU FEEL IF I DID THAT TO YOUR CHILD!?”  
Leman: “I DON’T BLOODY HELL HAVE KIDS SO I DON’T-”  
Emperor: “QUIET BOYS.”

“And I… raise the banner of triumph!” Squawked Aegidius as a flag rose from his lead figure, casting an aura of dread.

“I… submit.” The Dreadnought rumbled even as he tipped over his main figure.

“Wait. You submit?”

“Yes young one, you cornered me and exhausted my force. You win, congratulations.”

“I… I win? I WIN!” Aegidius jumped up, his hands in the air and a full on grin on his face as he began skipping around the room in joy.

Emperor: “OKAY, THAT IS CUTE. REMINDS ME OF WHEN HORUS WON HIS OWN FIRST GAME OF REGICIDE…”  
Horus: “Wha- I did not sing a song and dance around after winning! And… wait, I never won against-”  
Emperor: “NO, BUT YOU WERE SO SMUG AND HAPPY, YOU PRACTICALLY WERE. YOU DID IT IN YOUR MIND.”  
Horus: “Did you just sweep away the fact that you implanted a memory of me winning a game of regicide?”  
Emperor: “... PERHAPS.”  
Horus: “I… am not even surprised.”  
Mortarion: “How aren’t you outraged by that!? Or at least angry?!”  
Horus: “When he raises you, you learn to accept him for all of his little nasty faults.”  
Emperor: *Looks away*  
Horus: “Including how sore of a loser he is at-”  
Emperor: “THERE IS AN IMPERIAL DECREE IN PLACE THAT FORBIDS YOU FROM SPEAKING ABOUT THAT YOUNG MAN!”  
Horus: “Point proven.”

“I won! I won-won-won!” He said in a sing song voice even as the Dreadnought rumbled with laughter.

“I woooon, won won won!”

“Yes you did young one, but beware. I still managed to exhaust over half of your immediate for-”

Aegidius stopped and looked at the dreadnought. “But… I never win!” He said with a pout. “At least I won for once, what's the cost compared to that?”

Horus: “Much higher than you could think.”  
Corvus: “Beyond your wildest imaginations and then some.”  
Rogal: “He is naive.”  
Perturabo: *about to smack, but stops* “You’re not wrong. I’ll let that one side, since I agree.”  
Rogal: “That is a flawed sense of logic on why you would or would not wound me for speak-”  
Perturabo: *smacks*

The Dreadnought rumbled a non-impressed sound. “Everything. Your men, your forces are everything. If you do not fight for and with them, then what for?”

“I… I…”

A rumble wracked the hall as dust came flying down from the ceiling.

Roboute: “I still find it beyond odd that he’s so calm during this attack.”  
Horus: “He must have grown up used to these attacks. They must be a frequent enough occurence for him in order to accept them as just another part of his life.”  
Roboute: “That is a… fair point and makes it incredibly worse. How do you know that brother?”  
Horus: *Gazes towards the Emperor* “Personal experience.”

“You must keep in mind Aegidius. These men will give their lives for you. You must not let them do so lightly.”

“I… but… I wooooonn...” A tiny whine came from the small boy.

“You tried your best, true enough, but try harder. One can never be too good at the art of war, as horrible and terrifying as it is.”

“I… I understand…” Aegidius sighed, hands held behind his back, foot kicking back and scuffing at the floor.

“Good, glad we got that sorted out.”

Leman: “Well, at least the lad can take the advice.”

“Heh, yeah, you always give such good advice Brother Santodes!”

“And it is my pleasure to give my council when requested, my Emp-”

Aegidius’ eyes went wide even as a finger flew to his lips. “SHHHHH! I thought I said to please  _ not _ call me thaaaat!” He whined even as a sad look overcame his face.

Emperor: “HE ALMOST CALLED HIM HIS EMPEROR.  **HE ALMOST CALLED HIM HIS EMPEROR.** **_HE ALMOST CALLED HIM HIS EMPEROR._ ** ”  
Perturabo: “Now I see where Rogal gets it from…”

“Of course my liege, though of course we did agree on something.”

“Yeah, what?”

“You telling me exactly what you did to the farseer.”

Magnus: “nothing major, just  **true deathed a Farseer** . TOTALLY NORMAL.”

The color drained from his face, eyes widened and looking away as he tried to not think about the incident. “UH... I UH-”

The distant sound of armoured footsteps quickly approached and was heard even as Aegidius ran for the holorecorder.

“My liege, the Lord Commander requests your presence.” Came the booming voice of Cato Sicarius. “The battle is done, but we are still securing multiple unexploded daemonic ordinances and- oh, Lord Santodes, I did not know you were awake.”

Cato Sicarius’ power armoured legs were now seen in the shot even as the Dreadnought responded.

“ **My master awakened me.** ”

Emperor: “OH NOW IT’S JUST DANCING IN FRONT OF ME MOCKINGLY. MY THEORY IS BECOMING MORE AND MORE ACCURATE WITH EVERY ADDITION.”  
Magnus: “Are we just going to ignore the Text to speech refe-”  
Roboute: “What damned theory!?”  
Magnus: “That is a yes then.”  
Emperor: “JUST A THEORY FOR NOW. A THEORY THAT IS LOOKING MORE AND MORE LIKE REALITY.”  
Roboute: “I fucking swear…”

“Ah, yes of course, come along little brother.” A hand was seen stretching down to Aegidius’ height.

“Do I  **have** tooo…?”

“Yes, it is still dangerous, especially down here now, one of the incursions occurred directly above-”

As if on cue, a massive explosion shook the hallway. Not even a blink later, the Dreadnought flew forward, the wires and cabling holding it in its alcove snapping as it ran and bent over Aegidius.

“Wha- bro-”

A massive chunk of falling masonry suddenly struck the Dreadnought on its armoured back before splitting into multiple smaller pieces which flew harmlessly to Aegidius’ sides.

Emperor: *Stands* “HOLD THE FUCK UP! HOW IN THE EVERLOVING FUCK!?”  
Magnus: “What?”  
Emperor: *realizes he is standing and clears his throat before sitting back down like nothing happened* “HOW DID THE DREADNOUGHT KNOW… MUST HAVE JUST BEEN INTUITION.”  
Konrad: “Even I know your hiding something now.”

“Is everyone alright?!” Came Cato Sicarius’ demanding shout as what sounded like multiple Marines sounded off offscreen.

Aegidius now slowly turned and looked up at the Dreadnought. “I- thank you brother Santodes.”

“Only doing my duty my liege.” The Dreadnought rumbled even as it turned back toward the alcove. “Although I trust the Techmarines will be none too happy. Nor your father.”

“What? Why wouldn’t dad be happy?” He asked, even as the holocam was picked up and Aegidius slowly walked around Santodes. And there, on the ground where they were playing lied the Regicide board. It was completely fine. Except for being as thin as a stomped ration bar…

Roboute: *Takes a few deep breaths, increasing in volume and power* “Aegidius…” *claps his hands together, resting them against his lips, as if in prayer, and stares at the screen* “...I’m grounding you from the past.”

Aegidius let out a pained groan. “That… that was an heirloom…” He shuddered, a tiny voice coming out with, “I am… sooooooooo… dead… Wait, I feel like I was just grounded, right now.”

Konrad: “Oh dear me, messing with the timelines again.”  
Roboute: “What the hell brother?”  
Konrad: “What?”  
Roboute: *Feels like he is slowly losing his marbles*

The feed cut even as the blue power armoured hand of Cato Sicarius was seen reaching up beyond the lens, most likely to pat the boys' shoulders and give him some much needed comfort.

“OK… I FEEL LIKE WE ALL NEED A REST AFTER THAT.”

“And I need to check up on my legion.” Quickly spoke Guilliman even as he got up and quickly walked out the door.

“Yeah, that sounds fair. I should also probably gather the mournival and-” Started Horus, then his eyes went wide in realization. “WAIT A SECOND, WE’RE ABOVE ULLANOR. THERE AREN’T ANY ULTRAMARINES HERE!”

“He just gave us the slip in order to avoid talking about his future… ugh… wife.” Spoke Mortarion.

Lion shrugged, “Are Eldar even capable of understanding human norms?” He asked, lounging back in his throne.

“I just see them as mongrels.” Vulkan spoke up, uncharacteristic and genuine anger showing up on his face. Roboute wasn’t there, so he could speak his mind.

“Speaking of mongrels…” Spoke up Lorgar. “I actually  _ do _ have some legion business to attend to. About a certain  _ pilgrimage _ I was very lucky not to take.” Lorgar stood and began walking toward the door. “You can watch the next vid without me, this might take some time.”

“DO NOT BE TOO LONG LORGAR. WE WILL DEAL WITH ALL OF THE LESSER NEEDS AT A LATER DATE.”

Lorgar merely gave a wave as he walked out, vengeance and redemption on his mind.

Magnus stood up, looking to the Emperor, “Father, I believe it would be best for me to leave for a while. Is there anything you wish for me to pass on?”

“A FEW THINGS, I’LL SEND THEM TO YOU IN A BIT.” And then Magnus left the viewing room, ready to pass on the Emperor’s word and check on his legion and family.

“‘Ight!” Spoke up Leman, also rising from his throne. “I’m gonna head out and make sure the nerd doesn’t fuck up anything.”

“SO BE IT LEMAN. KEEP AN EYE ON HIM BUT RETURN AS SOON AS YOU CAN.”

“Will do father.” Spoke the Wolf King even as he strode out of the room.

**“NEEEEEEeeeeeerrrdd-”** He was heard calling in the hallway even as he walked out of hearing distance.

Angron sat back in his throne, not bothering to get up. “Almost feels like no one can say anything cause the blabbermouths of the family take up all the extra time between scenes to say- OW FUCK MY HEAD HURTS.”

“ARE YOU ALRIGHT ANGRON?” Spoke up the Emperor.

“I’m fucking fine, I need to fight something, the nails bite.”

For a moment, the barest fraction of a second, a regretful look suddenly overcame the Emperor before he straightened his face into his normal passive look. “SO BE IT. GO AND TRAIN WITH YOUR SONS ON THE CONQUEROR. RETURN WHEN YOU HAVE SATED YOUR NEEDS.”

Angron lifted himself from the massive throne, not caring to even nod towards anyone of his brothers or his father as he walked out of the door, his voice was heard faintly calling after Lorgar.

At this, the Emperor looked to the rest of the Primarchs who stayed behind. “SO WHO WANTS TO WATCH ANOTHER?”


	5. Reality

The family mulled around the idea of watching another vid. With some of the Primarchs gone should they watch another? It was after all a personal foray into some of the most intimate parts of their brothers offspring.

“From a tactical point of view, I say we should watch another.” Finally spoke up Corvus, breaking the silence.

“FINALLY, SOMEONE WHO AGREES WITH ME.” Jested the Emperor. “IT FEELS LIKE YOU WERE MULLING THOSE IDEAS OVER FOR WEEKS.”

Corvus blinked, looking at his Father, “But… we have only been sitting here for a couple of minutes…?”

“As if anyone could go do anything else with this family.” Ground out Konrad.

“A JEST, A WEAK ONE, BUT A JEST.” The Emperor waved, ignoring Konrad’s comment.

“Can we just watch the vid?” Spoke the lord of the Death Guard. “This is getting annoying and I have better things to do, like beheading a certain traitor.”

“Patience. Everyone will have the chance to get rid of any **unwanted figures**.” Jaghatai spoke up, speaking sense to his brothers.

Horus cleared his throat, “I agree with Mortarion. And I do believe watching more is in our best interest. If we had everyone here for everything, we wouldn’t have finished half of the series we already watched.”

“Speaking of everyone.” Happily spoke Vulkan. “Where are the twins? They appear to have disappeared.”

“MY ORDERS VULKAN. NOT TO WORRY, THEY ARE MERELY SETTING THINGS INTO PLACE.”

The Primarchs looked toward their father and blinked once.

“WITH SOME OF THE BEST CUSTODES KEEPING WATCH SO THAT THEIR PLANS DON’T DEVOLVE INTO A CONVOLUTED MESS.”

“Fair point.” Spoke up Fulgrim. “The two strive in perfection in the art of convolution and espionage, yet they twist it to such a degree that even they can barely understand it.”

**…  
** **Elsewhere  
** **…**

The twins laughed maniacally, as they were teleported up onto the _Alpha_ with the rest of their forces, ready to do their Father’s bidding.

They continued scheming until they felt a little tap on their shoulders and turned around to see a Custodes.

The Custodes flicked his flamer on, some flames spitting out, ready to be used as he let out a giggle, then a full blown cascade of laughter, all three brothers in their new crusade of righteous flames as they marched out like a finely tuned orchestra, ready for war.

It was then that the twins knew.

**…**   
**Back with the Emperor and family**   
**…**

“Shall we get on with it then?” Asked Sanguinius, a note of impatience in his voice. He hated how sometimes it took forever for people to just shut up and play the vid. Maybe he should get himself checked out? He has been showing more aggression when it comes to vids...

“FINE. MAGOS, PLAY IT.”

Our usual Magos did as ordered, a prayer and a hope that the machine spirit would continue to be a good machine spirit.

**...**   
**204.M42 - Fortress of Hera**   
**...**

On screen, it came alive as usual and soon it began to play.

The Holorecorder sprang to life suddenly, showing the red, blotchy face of Aegidius in a dark area by himself. The boy obviously was crying and hiding away, surprised when the recorder came back. He tried to turn it off, and it ended up showing more of his surroundings instead. Apparently he was under some large table, with what looks to be massive thrones around it and from what was visible, a grand door. With how quiet the room was, he was most likely alone.

Rogal: “That is the new War Room Table. I am hoping the boy does not break this one as well.”  
Mortarion: “I am supremely happy that Roboute isn’t here to complain about that.”  
Corvus: “Honestly, it’s nice to not have the more vocal of brothers here. Maybe we can actually focus on the vid, now?”  
Konrad: “Don’t count on it.”

Aegidius could hear the sounds of the many Ultramarines outside of the War Room, most likely either trying to find him or preparing for his Father coming back. He didn’t really feel like coming out, he just wanted to keep sitting under the new War Room table, away from everyone.

Looking down at the reactivated holorecorder, he tried to fix the damned thing, but after that time he dropped it, it just seems to have a mind of its own now!

“Little annoying thing…” He murmured underneath his breath as he kept fiddling with a few loose wires. He could get another one but then he would need to hear another lecture about how important it was that he took better care of his stuff. He knew but it wasn’t his fault that he kept dropping it!

Suddenly he heard the door open and the telltale sound of heavy Power-armoured steps on the marmor floor echoing across the great War Room. Aegidius quickly scooped up the recorder, going impossibly still as he tried to be as quiet as possible. His ears picked up sharply, gently rotating to get a better grasp on the sound.

He saw as his father's ornate armoured sabatons from the Armour of Fate come into position right in front of him. He was about to reveal himself but then-

“Damned orks!” The swear was as chilling as a Fenrisian helwinter. The Night Haunter had entered the War Room. “I stopped the WAAAGH just before it threatened the northern asteroid fields.”

Ferrus: “How close were they to Macragge!?”  
Sanguinius: “...Damned greenskins will never die, will they?”  
Ferrus: “Seeing as how they were made during the War in Heaven and have been a menace to the Galaxy for a few million years, I don’t think so.”  
Emperor: “WE ARE QUITE CLOSE ACTUALLY. ALL OF THE MAJOR ORK EMPIRES ARE DEAD FOR NOW. BUT NOT TO WORRY, I HAVE BEEN WORKING ON MORE METHODS TO MAKE SURE THE GREENSKINS STAY DEAD.”  
Jaghatai: “One can only hope that one day we will be rid of their menace forever.”  
Horus: “If that happens, then I will never relive the day I threw an Ork Warboss out of a window from the 85th floor… But it’s for the best.”

He saw as his father turned to face his brother.

“Good work, one less threat to worry about.”

He wanted to jump out. When was the last time he heard his father's voice? The last time he saw him? He rotated his ears towards them, capturing as much sound as possible.

“Aye, fantastic job!” Intoned his uncle Leman as he strode into the War Room, he looked to be carrying something… “We have another bloody issue.” He thunked something on the massive table, causing some of the Space Marines around the Primarchs to begin to swear and murmur amongst themselves.

“Necrons.” Spoke up Roboute.

Emperor: “WELL, THAT IS JUST GREAT.”  
Rogal: “I did not know you were capable of sarcasm father.”  
Perturabo: “I did not know you were capable of detecting it.”

“Aye. Yer wife told me to send you that one, she said she would be coming by soon by the way, needs to recover and meditate, whatever the fooking hell that means in Eldar terms.”

Mortarion: *Mutters something under his breath*

“So. Now we have a metallic unkillable race pressing on towards the annihilation of life in the galaxy and can just spring up from any planet that might be housing them.” Roboute’s voice sounded as if it had suffered countless years of wear and tear.

Jaghatai: “Our brother sounds world weary, I can only imagine how tired and downtrodden he must look like.”  
Corvus: “Fighting non stop for who knows how long. Look at the state of his armour.”  
Vulkan: “Indeed, it saddens me to see our brother and his battle plate in this state. Worn down into almost nothing, I see hasty battlefield repair work.”  
Emperor: “I HAVE A REALLY BAD FEELING ABOUT ALL OF THIS.”

“Aye… any planet in the west-northern border that is. A dynasty sprung up, though I don’t know which.”

Roboute let out a sigh. “Get the Necron overlords head to Cawl. He will know what to do, see if he can extract any worthwhile data from it while he is at it.”

Emperor: “GOOD TO SEE HE IS STILL UP AND RUNNING.”  
Lehm: “Omnissiah, are you really going to allow Cawl free reign in the new future?”  
Emperor: “LEHM! ACTUALLY ASKING QUESTIONS. GOOD ON YOU! BUT FREE REIGN? OH NO, THOUGH I WOULDN’T BE TOO WORRIED. I HAVE MET HIM BEFORE AFTER ALL.”  
Ferrus: “OKAY. WHEN.”  
Emperor: “WELL TECHNICALLY. I HAVEN’T MET HIM JUST YET. THAT IS, NOT UNTIL EZEKYLE SEDAYNE AND HIM BECOME ONE. WON’T BE LONG NOW. I HAVE BEEN AVOIDING EZEKIEL'S NOTIFICATIONS FOR MONTHS NOW. HE IS GETTING DESPERATE. AND THIS TIME, THERE WILL BE NO ELIXIR TO LENGTHEN HIS LIFE.”  
Lehm: “OMNISSIAH. Did… Did you just speak of tech heresy!? What… This one cannot compute this…” *distressed binary*  
Emperor: *Waves arm* THIS PARTICULAR FATE MUST HAPPEN. IT WILL BE FAR MORE EFFECTIVE IF CAWL KEEPS THE LIFE OF EZEKIEL AND OTHERS IN HIMSELF. I WILL REQUIRE HIS ASSISTANCE LATER. FOR NOW, EVERYTHING IS PROCEEDING AS I HAVE FORESEEN. *The Emperor emitted a soft cackle as he looked up at the ceiling for just a second, causing all of the Primarchs to become very unnerved as they were reminded just how powerful their father really was*

**…  
** **Deep in the Warp  
** **…**

Tzeentch at this moment, was bleeding full rage at this situation. Physically peeling skin from anger at all of his **plans and unplans were upended and shredded into the cosmic toilet that is the unreality.**

He spent countless lifetimes putting all of his plans together, manipulating others to manipulate another person to manipulate the one he wanted to manipulate but couldn’t offer anything he might want. Lifetimes of all of his plans with their foundations spanning millions of years was destroyed by one simple act of vids getting into the hands of the Anathema!

It had been imperative that he stopped it from happening, from the Anathema getting the key to possibly winning in the grand game. He had been so close to destroying the first vids, but then… Something happened. **Something happened and he was stopped by a power that was so like the Anathema, and so like himself but more… Orderly.**

The final nail in the cosmic coffin of the Grand Manipulator, the vids, was here and there wasn’t anything he could do! New vids keep leaking in from the hole of reality and unreality, and no one can get close enough to it! After those daemons were completely unraveled into nothingness where even he had a hard time remembering if they ever existed, that hole that’s leaking these accursed vids is a continuous pain. A festering, continuous pain that will never go away, and with all the power he has at his command, there is nothing he can do to fix this problem!

Tzeentch **will curse the Anathema of another place, another time, and the Tzeentch of another time and reality** for their quick and decisive play against their grand game.

He can **NOT** let the others know about how royally fucked they were.

He will eternally ponder how and why and where someone got the power to cross reality and do this. He’s just thankful the damned hole isn’t growing or doing anything else. That is the one certainty in Tzeentch’s mind.

They are so fucking **BONED**.

**…  
** **Back with the Emperor and family  
** **…**

A Space Marine stepped closer to the table and appeared to pick up the aforementioned head before carrying it out.

“Anything else?” Roboute breathed again, sounding as if he wished to be literally anywhere else but here.

“Yes.” Spoke up Konrad. “I know you don’t want to hear this, and I don’t either. Agriworlds.”

Aegidius perked up, what did Agriworlds have to do with what they just said?

A groan now came from the Lord Commanders' mouth. “Of course. Lost or under siege?”

Vulkan: “WAIT WHAT.”  
Sanguinius: “Even the Agriworlds are being attacked!?”  
Corvus: “This is beyond just attrition. The Orks must be lacking other more alluring targets.”  
Horus: “What about the traitors? The Chaos Space Marines. The Black Legion. Anyone of those.”  
Emperor: “DAEMONIC FORCES WE ALREADY SAW. BUT NO SPACE MARINE SUPPORT. IMPERIUM SECUNDUS MUST AS OF YET, BE HIDDEN FROM THE TRAITORS.

“Neither. Luckily I intercepted a force of Dark Eldar attempting to set up a raid onto Formulis VII.”

“Bastards are getting cocky.” Spat out Leman.

“Yes yes… ever since Yvrainne summoned the followers of Ynnead to battle for Commoragh they have been getting desperate. They need slaves as much as we need food and drink.”

*Vulkan and Jaghatai nod at this*

Jaghatai: “At least Roboute’s wife is doing some good. The damned dark Eldar do need to be exterminated.”  
Vulkan: “No doubt.”  
Emperor: “GOOD LUCK WITH COMMORAGH. VECT WILL NOT GIVE UP HIS THRONE EASILY.”  
Vulkan: “Father, when will we launch our attack on Commorragh?”  
Emperor: “NOT ANYTIME SOON. NOR IN THE FORESEEABLE FUTURE. BUT IF THE PLANS THAT I AM CURRENTLY PUTTING INTO PLACE WILL WORK, THOSE ABOMINATIONS WILL SHRIVEL UP AND DIE FROM PSYCHIC STARVATION. FAR TOO QUICK OF A DEATH THAN THEY DESERVE. BUT A NECESSARY COMPROMISE.”  
Jaghatai: “Well, as long as they die.”

Leman spoke a Fenrisian curse at this and acted as if he spat towards the floor. “Good riddance with them, can’t wait till they all shrivel up and die.”

Yet another sigh from his brother. “If that is all from you two…” He waited a bit. “Then, Tetrarch Felix.”

Uncle Felix? Here, now!? What was he doing so far away from Vespator?

Corvus: “Ah, the Tetrarch is still alive. That is good news.”  
Konrad: “Euugh.”

“My liege.” Another set of armoured sabatons came into view, showing Mk. X Gravis armour. “Vespator has been fortified thrice over, though the dominion under my rule has shrunk I am afraid to report.”

Sanguinius: “Uh oh.”

More murmurs at this.

“Though, I am not the bearer of only bad news. The remaining Tyranids have been completely driven out and or exterminated by the help of a passing by Ork WAAAGH.”

Emperor: “WELL, THE TYRANIDS AND ORKS FIGHTING EACH OTHER IS GOOD NEWS-”

“Best news we had since Terra exploded and Father died.” Muttered Konrad.

Emperor: **“-I’M SORRY BUT WHAT IN THE ACTUAL FUCKING MAGICAL WARPISH FUCKING GOLD IN THIS ENTIRE SHITTY UNIVERSE DID HE JUST SAY!?”  
** Konrad: “...I said, that you died.”  
Emperor: **“I HEARD YOU, YOU LITTLE BAT WINGED SHIT!”**

*Entire family was taken aback at this*

Emperor: **“PAUSE THAT VID! PAUSE IT!”**

*The holoprojector paused by itself, the Magos not even having to touch the pause rune. Its holo tray opening and causing it to resemble a surprisingly familiar face*

Lehm: “Well, you’re rude...”  
Emperor: “I GIVE ZERO FUCKS AT THE MOMENT MAGOS, IF YOU EXCUSE ME! I JUST GOT TOLD I _FUCKING_ **_DIED!”  
_ ** Horus: “You get used to it.”  
Emperor: “OH, DON’T YOU ACT LIKE A LITTLE CONTRARIAN RIGHT NOW YOUNG MAN. DO ANY OF YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW SCREWED THE FUTURE IS IF I DIED!?”  
Konrad: “Extremely.”  
Emperor: “EXACTLY! SO HOW IN THE FUCK ARE THEY STILL ALIVE!?”  
Jaghatai: “With your death, wouldn’t the Astronomicon go out? Warp Travel, communications…”  
Emperor: “THAT’S THE POINT! I MEAN… OH… OH FUCK… THAT ISN’T GOOD.”  
Horus: “What isn’t?”  
Emperor: “MY THEORY.”  
Mortarion: “Oh for the love of- HOW ABOUT YOU STOP BEING CRYPTIC AND JUST SAY IT!?”  
Emperor: “AEGIDIUS IS A LIVING PROJECTION OF THE ASTRONOMICON.”  
Jaghatai: “This… Makes sense. A lot, actually.”  
Emperor: “I MEAN, THE KID CAN MOVE AND FUNCTION NORMALLY. BUT HIS GROWTH, BOTH PHYSICAL AND MENTAL IS COMPLETELY STUNTED. IT COULD VERY EASILY BE A SIDE-EFFECT OF THE ASTRONOMICON BEING PROJECTED BY HIM. IT WAS MY SECONDARY PLAN AFTER ALL, THE PLAN TO KEEP THE ASTRONOMICON EMBEDDED IN MYSELF.”  
Fulgrim: “That could also explain why the Eldar claim for him to shine brightly.”  
Vulkan: “And how in the second vid, little Aegidius said how people could get lost without him?”  
Horus: “Did you drop that idea because a moving space beacon meant to navigate people is a bad idea?”  
Emperor: “NO. I DROPPED IT BECAUSE I DIDN’T HAVE TIME TO IMPLEMENT IT. THE ASTRONOMICON ITSELF IS SO MASSIVE THAT IT COULD STAY FOCUSED ON ONE LOCATION EVEN IF I WAS HALF THE GALAXY AWAY FROM TERRA.”  
Lion: “Seeming how unreasonable Roboute is with raising his child, he will be supremely angry at you if he finds out what the future you did to Aegidius.”  
Ferrus: “But one question remains, brothers. What happened and why is Aegidius the living Astronomicon? If What Father said is true, then how did this come to pass?”  
Lion: “I am unsure. Father?”  
Emperor: “SEEING AS I AM FUCKING DEAD. IT IS VERY **VERY** POSSIBLE THAT FUTURE ME... LATCHED…”  
Horus: “Yes? Go on, were waiting.”  
Emperor: “I REQUIRE MORE EVIDENCE BEFORE I GO DOWN THAT ROUTE.”  
Sanguinius: “Well… How about… we watch and find out?”  
Horus: “Oh yeah, sure. Right as Father was about to say something that most likely was going to change our entire outlook on these vids…”  
Emperor: “FUCK OFF SONNY. YOU WILL FIND OUT WHEN YOU WILL.”  
Horus: “Where is this attitude coming from? I haven’t felt like this since I was eight.”

“Bastards are useful for something after all.” Chuckled uncle Leman.

“Appears so my lord.” Spoke up Felix again, apparently not feeling in the mood for jesting. “Though now I fear that when or even if they destroy this tendril, they will turn and fall upon us. In which case I would evocate for… for an evacuation of-”

“No.” His father's tone stopped Felix mid-sentence. “I am afraid that we cannot… afford it, you stand, or you…” He let it trail, knowing what he meant.

Fulgrim: “The borders are _that_ weak?”  
Rogal: “Roboute refers to Manpower.”  
Perturabo: “Just… I don’t have the energy to hit you right now.”  
Lion: “A weak defense is nonoptimal but workable, however, if one can’t reinforce or relieve it eventually...” *The Lion dramatically gestured something crumbling with his hands*

Or what? Aegidius couldn’t ask that, would everyone get mad at him again for sneaking in? But well… He was here first, they came in on him… Or what if… What if his dad was angry about what happened to Macragge while he was gone!? What if everyone was!? He shuddered, curling into a ball as he continued to listen.

“Anything else? No? Good. Now, we need to raise a few more guard regiments.”

A sigh came from the rest of the Primarchs even as a Lord General clad in the colors of the Astra Militarum stepped up. “Promise them… promise them one full meal per day, no exceptions.”

Vulkan: “I AM SORRY?”  
Ferrus: “And there it is.”  
Corvus: “Weak supply lines and a waning number of Agriworlds. Production must be at an all time low if rationing is that strict.”  
Konrad: “Knowing our _brother._ The only reason why they haven’t all fallen to pieces is because of efficiency and the rationing being in effect for everyone. Not just common citizenry.”  
Sanguinius: “Brother, that is quite an accurate evaluation.”  
Konrad: *Shrugs shoulders* “I used the same stratagem on Nostramo when the poor couldn’t even get two meals per week and the rich were literally throwing it up in order to be able to digest more.”

The Lord General gave a salute and marched off.

“One meal a day!? I get three, why do they get one?” Aegidius accidentally blurted out, before letting out a squeak as he slapped his hands over his mouth.

Lion: “Not the brightest child.”  
Vulkan: “Well… I can’t really call him dim, but he did bring up a good point…”

Everyone went quiet for a second, then the booming chuckle of his uncle Leman came through as he turned and began to walk away.

“Dismissed.” Sighed Roboute, somehow sounding even more defeated and disappointed than before.

The War Room was emptied, Aegidius could see how some hesitated at the door before leaving. His earlier fears from before were coming back up as he realized his dad was going to be so mad with him…

“Get out from under the table, Aegidius.” His father commanded.

He sighed, crawling out from under the table and getting back up, he tried to hide the holorecorder behind him, hoping his dad would just lecture him about one thing and not two things he did wrong. Okay, it was three things he did wrong, but to be fair, they were the ones to come into the war Room **after** him, so they were the ones who snuck in. Kinda.

Corvus: “That’s not how that works.”

“Dad?” He asked tenderly, poking to find out more of his father’s mood.

“Aegidius.” Spoke up Roboute again, appearing to come closer, only to grab the holorecorder from him and gently place it on the table. Roboute kneeled down, to not tower over his son and revealed a very tired looking Lord Commander in heavily battle-scarred battle plate. His once fully blonde hair now looked paler, grey mixed in occasionally. His face spoke volumes as to how much war he had seen lately, but it had a kind smile nonetheless. “You broke it again?” He asked gently.

Emperor: “...HOLY SHIT, ROBOUTE IS BARELY RECOGNIZABLE.”  
Rogal: “That is untrue. No one else in the galaxy is as large, tall and has such a sharp jawline as our brother. His armor and shape confirm this is our brother. Perhaps you should have your eyes checked, Father?”  
Emperor: “FIRST OFF, FUCK OFF ROGAL.”  
Rogal: “I cannot copulate off of myself, Father.”  
Emperor: “SECOND OF. AFTER WE ARE FINISHED WITH THIS SESSION GO AND READ A BOOK OF SYNONYMS. ESPECIALLY AN URBAN DICTIONARY. OR I WILL BOMBARD THE PHALANX WITH THEM UNTIL IT IS DISABLED.”  
Rogal: “There are no books with enough power to disable the Phalanx.”  
Fulgrim: “...anyway. But yes, I am unused to seeing Roboute like this.”  
Ferrus: “Almost feels like he should have a scar over his eye and a robotic arm, like those movies Father showed us.”  
Emperor: “CLASSICS.”  
Ferrus: “I am still unsure why you did not allow us to watch past Rogue One and the sixth episod-”  
Emperor: “THERE ARE ONLY SIX. THE OTHERS NEVER TRULY EXISTED.”  
Sanguinius: “Some say they are only three.”  
Emperor: “GETTING BACK ON TRACK!”

Aegidius deflated, might as well get it over with. “I… I didn’t mean to. I tried to be careful, I really did. I know you said I had to be careful with all of my stuff, and I am, but it just… Just happens…” He thought back to his own room, how empty it felt at times. He just couldn’t help but break his toys, his school work, his clothes, everything. It just feels as if something else is taking its frustration out.

“I accept the explanation, just keep trying your best.”

Sanguinius: “Roboute is being surprisingly curt with his son by comparison to how he is here…”

A door shut closed somewhere in the distance. “Now, second hand business. Its armour, remember that, be careful.” Roboute warned even as he gently extended his hands, much to Aegidius’ apparent delight.

“Dad!” He squealed as he launched himself into his father's arms. The two embraced, Aegidius was overjoyed to have his father back. He missed him terribly, so much.

Sanguinius: “Nevermind.”

“I missed you dad… I missed you so so so much.” He spoke, his voice murmured by him pressing his face as hard as he could into his father's neck. Just having him home and safe meant so much to him.

Emperor: “YES. POWER OF THE FATHER.”  
Mortarion: “What do you know of that?”  
Emperor: “THAT WAS A LOW BLOW.”  
Horus: “To be fair, there were good moments.”  
Emperor: “THANK YOU SON-”  
Horus: “In between the mountains of crap.”  
Lion: *slowly rising laughter*  
Jaghatai: “Good one. I’m stealing it.”

“Good to see you too little one.” Roboute spoke, his voice tight with emotion. He hugged his son tightly, but carefully. His face showed how deeply he felt, showed how relieved he was to have his son there, happy to see him. Happy to welcome him home and not just be there to drop more burdens on his shoulders. His face was pure, open relief and love for the tiny boy.

Konrad: “Love and affection… Euuugh.”  
Corvus: “Well, this is heartwarming.”

*back door opens*

Roboute: “I have returned, what did I miss-” *sees his future self*  
Emperor: “HELLO ROBOUTE, PERFECT TIMING.”  
Roboute: “...WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO ME!?”  
Fulgrim: “Endless war.”  
Ferrus: “Constant endless war.”  
Jaghatai: “The not fun kind of war?”  
Vulkan: “Father died.”  
Roboute: “FATHER WHAT!?”  
Konrad: “Father died and made Terra explode.”  
Roboute: “HOW DID TERRA EXPLODE!?”  
Rogal: “Father believes that Aegidius is the Astro-” *Massive hand of Emps slammed over his mouth*  
Perturabo: “Aegidius is the Astronomicon and Father doesn’t like it.”  
Emperor: “YOU BETRAY ME AGAIN PERTY MY BOY. IT’S LIKE ME AS ALCIBIADES ALL OVER AGAIN!”  
Roboute: “HOW IS MY SON THE ASTRONOMICON FATHER?”  
Emperor: “I AM STILL FORMULATING MY ANSWER!”  
Roboute: *Holds head in hands as he collapsed onto his throne with a massive groan* “Well… At least it can’t get worse.”

It was apparent now at just how small Aegidius was compared to his father, despite having his head buried in his father's neck, the only thing keeping him up there was Roboute holding him. Aegidius’ legs barely reached Guillimans armoured abdomen.

Roboute: “Well… at least I come back to some heart warming eye-candy.”

His father then held him out for a few seconds, before allowing his son to snuggle back up with him. “Growing like a mushroom.” He spoke much to Aegidius delight even as his father's tone took on a more serious edge. “We don’t have much time I am afraid. And since you can’t run away from me when I ask you, what were you doing hiding underneath the table again?”

Roboute: “Why was he under the table?”  
Fulgrim: “Details.”

A tiny gulp was heard from him, he hoped his dad wouldn’t ask but… Oh well… “I… I wanted to be alone. Cause… Cause I felt bad…” Please don’t ask, please don’t ask, please don’t ask, please don’t ask...

“Why?”

“...because of what I did…” He tried to not elaborate, but had a feeling his dad was going to ask-

“What did you do?”

Yup. Might as well get it over with… “...the daemon attack…”

“Yes I heard.” Sighed Roboute. “The Eldar was at fault from what I was able to gather of the security holocam footage.”

Aegidius lightly perked up at this, but immediately became more sullen when he saw his father's serious look.

“But that is no excuse, you need to stay focused Aegidius. You _are_ the beacon. We do not yet know **how** or even **why** it works.”

Horus: “Confirmed.”  
Roboute: “I just hope it’s not something that will hurt him…”  
Emperor: *Was going to say something but stopped and decided to just wait for more information first*

“I know, I know…” Murmured out Aegidius, now attempting to bury his face into his father's massive chest plate, just so he didn’t have to look him in the eye. “People… People didn’t get hurt, did they?”

His father didn’t answer him.

“Dad?” Again, no response.

“Dad…” He attempted again, feeling nervous at his father's silence. “Dad… did I… did I…”

“You, no.” Finally spoke up his father. “Not directly. But the portal spawned Daemons Aegidius, an entire Daemonic legion.”

“Dad… did I… Did I hurt-”

“Yes!” Spoke up his father. “Yes, you hurt people.”

Lion: “Good job on bringing down the hammer brother. You made the correct choice for once.”  
Roboute: “Even so, you shouldn’t get angry at a child. But he did do something that hurt and most likely killed people.”  
Fulgrim: “While I do very much agree with you brother, I am also afraid that future you is in no position to be able to afford much coddling…”  
Roboute: “I agree. I just hope that they can fix the situation and work on not letting it happen again.”

The boy, he thought hard about how much a legion would be. Then he thought back to the time he accidentally summoned up a big daemon and how it took a few of his uncles to kill it… If… If that was how strong one could be… Then a legion would… He didn’t want to think about it, he just- he wanted to be alone! Alone, and no one touching or talking or anything!

Frost and ice started to grow on his body, covering him up as his thoughts went wild at just how badly he messed up. If he messes up with himself, it’s just him. But if he messes up and other people get hurt or worse! Maybe he should just lock himself away, just sleep and not think, maybe he should-

“Aegidius!” His father's angry call snapped him out of it instantly. “Calm down! Not everything can be solved by locking oneself into his own mind.”

The frost began to melt.

“But-but-” He stuttered out, tears coming to his eyes.

“I know it’s hard son.” Gently chided Roboute. “But you must face your fears. If you don’t, you will never **ever** grow up.”

“I… I want to grow up…” He weakly admitted, feeling as if he was on the cusp of something, but it went away as soon as his father snapped him out of it. “I’m sorry dad. I mess up so much, I got people hurt, I… I just feel like I keep making things worse for people… I don’t think I’m gonna make a good Emperor like you said I would…”

Emperor: “THE PATH TO BECOMING EMPEROR IS FRAUGHT WITH OBSTACLES AND COUNTLESS DIFFICULTIES. THE SACRIFICES ARE MANY I AM AFRAID YOUNG ONE.”  
Horus: “That is oddly… acceptable of one's faith coming from you father.”  
Emperor: “I’M DEAD. SOMEONE NEEDS TO TAKEOVER, AND IF THAT SOMEONE HAS THE ASTRONOMICON EMBEDDED WITHIN HIM AND STILL LIVES, HE CLEARLY HAS POTENTIAL. THAT AND BEING A VIABLE OFFSPRING BETWEEN A HUMAN AND ELDAR, THAT’S THE PERFECT FIGUREHEAD THAT THIS NEW IMPERIUM NEEDS TO RALLY BEHIND.”  
Horus: “Aaand there's the pragmatism…”

Roboute sighed, knowing this was going to be a difficult conversation. He really didn’t have the time to sit his son down and fully explain everything on why it was best for him to be the Emperor, or how bad the galaxy had gotten worse in only a hundred years after the Indomitus Crusade. “Be that as it may, son, there isn’t much we can do. We just need to keep moving forward, and that means you need to as well.”

“I didn’t mean for all of that to happen… I didn’t mean to summon them- I just got angry!” Aegidius brought up, frustrated that his father would just push aside this subject.

“Anger pushes psychic potential, it is normal.” His father sighed. “I will get you another tutor, a librarian preferably. And maybe your mother can teach you some when she returns.”

Aegidius looked at his father, his eyes wide with raw emotion. “Mom’s coming back? When? Today? Or-or is she here now?” He wanted to see his mom, she’d been gone for so long and so had his dad, and he just needed them...

Roboute's face was graced with a sad smile, obviously he brought up the topic to derail his son's train of thoughts.

“Dad? Where is mom? Is she alright? I haven’t heard from her in… months.” Aegidius looked up at his dad, questioning in those big eyes of his.

“She is fine little one.” Guaranteed his father, though his eyes betrayed his worry.

He watched his father, he could see it. “What happened?” He asked, curious on why his father wasn’t telling him. Mom wasn’t hurt, was she? She can’t be dead, he said he’d see her soon. So, what happened?

“Nothing you need to concern yourself with little one. As soon as she gets back she herself can explain it to you.”

The massive door to the War Room opened, revealing and un-helmed Cato Sicarius.

“My Primarch.” He spoke. “Sorry to interrupt, but the fleet is ready.”

Roboute: “I am heading out already?”  
Emperor: “WITH WHAT WE HAVE SEEN AND HEARD, NO WONDER YOU HAVEN’T LEFT EARLIER.”

Roboute gave a nod and began walking out, still holding Aegidius.

“You're going away again!?” Butted in Aegidius. “So soon!? We didn’t even have time to play together!”

Roboute: “I’m sorry little one…”

“I have to go, little one. Duty calls, and I am the one who must always answer.”

“But you just came back! We only got to talk for a few minutes! Can’t you stay? It’s my birthday...”

Roboute: “It’s THAT bad!?”  
Sanguinius: “From what we saw so far. It’s even worse, actually.”

“I can’t, Aegidius. I have to go. There is so much wrong with the galaxy, with home. I have to go.”

They both walked out of the door with Father and son going back and forth with each other, Cato Sicarius apparently noticing the holorecorder, coming closer and turning it off.

“So… that was… informative.” Began Ferrus.

Roboute sat back in his throne, hands rubbing at his face. “Future me didn’t even tell him a Happy Birthday.”

Lion scoffed, “ **That** is what you’re lingering on? It’s just another year. What of it?”

Corvus spoke up. “You’re acting as if emotional attachment is a bad thing brother. A normal mindset and environment is a very important thing for a child still growing up.”

“OF COURSE, BUT LET'S DISREGARD THAT FOR THE MOMENT, I’M DEAD!”

“Get over it.” Butted in Horus, having enough of his Father’s disbelief. “You’re acting as if this is the first time you're hearing about your own death.”

“I AM ACTING COMPLETELY REASONABLY!”

The door opened, revealing a much happier Angron and Lorgar. The former of the two hanging one of his massive arms on Lorgars shoulders.

“We have returned.” Announced Lorgar, taking his throne along with Angron.

“THAT'S GREAT, DID YOU DEAL WITH WHAT YOU HAD TO?”

A rumbling chuckle came from the Red Angel. “It was… enjoyable.”

“GOOD. I HOPE THEY ARE STILL ALIVE.”

Lorgar turned to his father, a burning fury evident in his eyes. “They are alive… but not in one piece.”

“Fuckers won’t be running away anytime soon.” Spat out Angron. “Nor doing any of their witch fuckery. Got no tongues to speak the words with.”

**…  
** **A moment earlier, with Lorgar and Angron  
** **…**

“You know, brother. I never thought I would actually feel happiness and contentment from tearing a person limb from limb.” Lorgar idly spoke.

Angron grumbled lightly in pleasure, continuing to wash the blood off of his armour even as he looked at the pairs of severed legs, remains of shattered teeth and armour which lay all about the deck.

Lorgar paused, his mood darkening. “Though… I do have to say… Tearing them apart felt good for the moment, full pleasure at getting rid of the man who raised me and the man who was going to ruin our family… I feel empty on the inside now. They’re legless and armless, yes… But I feel… empty.”

“Revenge is thirsty work.” Spoke Angron. “It fills the soul and pleases you, but it also strips you to the core.” He winced as the nails bit.

“Thank you, though. For being here with me. I can always seem to count on you, can’t I?”

Angron looked up at his brother, genuine happiness in his eyes. “Always.” He grinned, showing his sharp teeth. To anyone seeing it, it would shake and creep them out to their core. But Lorgar smiled back. This was his brother at his best. And he would not have it any other way.

**…**  
Back with the Emperor and family  
…

“ALRIGHT. NOW WHERE IS LEM-”

The doors smashed open, cutting the Emperor off.

“We’re baaack!” Loudly announced the Wolf King, Magnus trailing somewhat closely behind him.

“Alright. Call me interested, what did you two do?” Spoke up Horus.

“Oh, nuffin’ much. We just reconciled is all.”

“This bastard tried to have a drinking contest with me!”

“Oi! I thought we agreed not to bring that up!”

“We agreed to no such thing!” Said Magnus, a big dumb grin appearing on his face.

Jaghatai raised his eyebrows. “Now I am interested as well. What happened?”

“Nuffin!”

“I beat him!”

“Only because you cheated NERD!”

“Using my mastery of biomancy to enhance the processing speed of my liver is perfectly within any _rules_ you are capable of coming up with!”

“Oi! The rules stated tha’ ye don’t use any of yer’ maleficarum ta win!”

“And I didn’t. I just used my natural powers that our Father gave us. And besides! We agreed to _no_ table braking! THAT ONE WAS AN ANTIQUE BROTHER!”

“Oh, now yer going on about that again! I said I was sorry!”

“I THOUGHT YOU WERE GOING TO PASS ON MY ORDERS FOR ME, MAGNUS?” The Emperor reminded them, but still amused that these two were finally getting along.

“Oh I did Father, no worries there, it’s being taken care of… as soon as Ahriman nurses his hangover…” Magnus continued muttering on about how someone was able to even give a Space Marine one.

Horus then spoke up. “Oh yes, to bring you up to speed. Roboute’s son is the living Astronomicon and Father along with Terra are dead.”

Lorgar spat out the tea he was drinking. “The fuck!?”

“I… aeeegghhh… Okay.” Magny Magic shrugged, knowing that it had to be something big to make the future that horrible. Magnus looked around and counted the brothers and realized something. Used to the complete plot wits at this point “Father, where are the twins?”

“NOWHERE YOU HAVE TO CONCERN YOUR BUSY LITTLE MIND WITH. THEY ARE FUCKING SHIT UP IN A GOOD WAY. AND WELL, AS LONG AS YOU PASSED THE ORDERS ON, SO IT’S ALL GOOD. CAN’T JUST KEEP SITTING HERE AND NOT PASSING ON SOME ORDERS, YOU KNOW.”


	6. Extras 1 - In which Leman is the father of a little hell hound

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we have the first Extra. Extras are vids and moments that happen in the future alongside the actual vids from the main chapters. Just what's going on in the side. Then there are Meanwhiles, which take place in the new present and don't feature vids. Lastly, there are Wifetales and... You'll see them eventually...

After everything they saw so far with Aegidius, and how horribly everything went, the family decided to pause their viewing of Aegidius’s life and to check out the rest of the vids not about him.

“I think a break is in order. We could watch the other vids since there’s so much of them…” Roboute tried to supply, not wanting to think about how terrible Aegidius’s life was getting, and wondering if it was going to get better.

“Aye, it would be good to see about the others.” Leman agreed, diving for the chest and piles, searching for something to watch.

“Wha- Why do you get to choose!?” Magnus squawked from the side.

“Because I jumped first. Wolf pack rule and so on.” Leman shrugged, picking out a vid from the large unwatched pile.

“Wolf pack rules don’t apply here in the Bucephalus!” Magnus countered, but with a wave of his hand, the Emperor got them both to stop.

“I DON’T SEE ANYTHING WRONG WITH IT. LEMAN GOT THERE FIRST, SO HE CHOOSES.”

Magnus sat back, grumbling to himself, while Roboute was deep in thought. Many of the others didn’t see many flaws with this logic and just went along with it. It’s a break, so it doesn’t really matter in the long run.

“Found one!” Leman barked, holding up a vid. “It says it’s about Fenris. So we have to watch it.”

“Are you kidding me? Suffering you in person is bad enough, but then going to watch Fenris-”

“Oy! What’s wrong with Fenris?”

“Other then it being a cold-arid, barren wasteland full of monsters?”

“Ey that… alright I’ll give you that.”

“CAN YOU TWO PLEASE STOP?”

Both of the Primarchs grumbled as they merely laid back in their separate thrones.

“MAGOS, GO AHEAD AND LET'S GET THIS OVER WITH. I DO SEE THE JUVJK RUNE FOR “LAUGH” SO IT  _ SHOULD  _ HAVE SOME COMEDIC FACTORS.”

A prayer, and soon the vid started up-

**...  
203.M42 - Fenris, _The Fang_  
...  
**

The vid opened up to security footage from the Fang, but what was off about the scene was how the hallway it opened up to was… nearly destroyed.

Leman: “WHAT TAE FOOK!?”  
Magnus: “What? Isn’t that how it normally looks?”  
Leman: “Nay, it doesn’t! What tae fook decided to rampage through tae Fang!?”

Suddenly, a voice was heard coming from a Vox loudspeaker.

“Team Fang! Team Fang! Hygiene evasion confirmed via Wolf King! Deploy, deploy!”

Leman: “Hygiene evasion!? What in the wolfin’ hell is that supposed to mean?”  
Lion: “Perhaps you forgot to take your annual bath brother.”  
Leman: “Ah keep myself clean, you clean-licking cat.”  
Lion: “I do not need to do that, I have servants for it.”  
Leman: “HA! Now that IS a good prefere-”  
Sanguinius: “SHHH! I’m trying to watch!”

The walls were covered in tiny footprints of mud and snow, claw marks from what was most likely was a tiny wolf creature and many broken nets littered the hall. Surprisingly, there were many overturned displays in the halls, making it look like a mini warzone.

Magnus: “Are you sure it doesn’t always look loike this?”  
Leman: “Bloody hell, YES! Are you sure that pile of worthless papers that you call a library doesn't look like that?”  
Magnus: “U FUKIN WOT-”  
Emperor: “BOYS!”

“Team Canis! Do you have a visual on her!?”

“Negative, Canis! Team Lupus has no visuals on her as well!”

Leman: “WHO IS  _ HER?!”  
_ Mortarion: “Probably one hell of a woman. Or one of your newest flings.”  
Leman: “I lost most of my pursuits lately, just doesn't feel the same when every woman is almost literally throwing herself at you, yer know? Besides, I doubt that one of my flings could do that much dama-”

“Team Fang here, we just spotted here outside of our pack home! She went up one of the walls and is now-AGH! NOT THE EYES LITTLE SISTER! NOT THE EYE- **MY NECK ISN’T MUCH BETTER!”**

Leman: “... I sure bloody hope, by all of the snows on Fenris, that he didn’t just call her  _ sister. _ ”  
Rogal: “He did, we all heard it brother.”  
Leman: “Please…  _ no… I would be the most  _ **_horrible-”_ **

“HOLD YOUR POSITION TEAM FANG, LUPUS IS CLOSE BY AND IS DISPATCHING REINFORCEMENTS!”

“HURRY UP! I GOT MY HELMET ON BUT SHE IS RUNNING AROUND LIKE A FURLESS SHE-WOLF AFTER-OH BY FENRIS-SHE JUST CLIMBED INTO THE VENTILATION SYSTEM!”

Leman: “- **horrible fookin parent out of all of us…** ”  
Jaghatai: “Don’t think so. I can see at least four here that would be worse than you.”  
Emperor: “SON, WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT VERBAL MURDER.”  
Jaghatai: “I obeyed your word father. ‘Brutal Verbal Murder’ would equate to me calling Leman the most incompetent parent of all-”  
Emperor: “POINT PROVEN.”

The vid shifted again, showing an untouched room displays. It was full of large stuffed thunder wolves, displays of ancient weapons and shields upon the walls, trophies of battles long past. And then, the ventilation shaft opened violently, the grate kicked open and soon, a tiny ball of hair, mud, dirty snow, and what looked like blood dropped into the middle of the room.

The tiny ball of destruction sat on the floor, raising a leg and scratching at behind her head, leaving flecks of dirt on the floor.

Fulgrim: “...is that little girl  _ scratching herself  _ **_like a DOG!?_ ** ”  
Rogal: “Yes.”  
Ferrus: “Yeah, that’s what’s on screen right now.”  
Perturabo: “I would smack the both of you right now if this wasn’t such a mind-numbing scene of incompetent parenthood.”  
Leman: *shrinks into his throne*

“No bath. Hate bath.”

Corvus: “We can see that little one.”

The Vox loudspeaker was heard again.

“All father save us- she is in the Room of Eternal glory! All teams converge!”

The little ball let out a surprising, or rather, un-surprising wolf-like yelp and began running for one of the doors. Knocking down a display case holding some ancient piece of wood that split apart and was sent flying to all corners of the room.

Leman: *Suddenly and violently stands* “ARE YER FUCKIN KIDDING ME LITTLE ONE! IF YER WEREN’T A TINY GIRL I WOULD TAN YER HIDE UNTIL-”  
Emperor: “WOW LEMAN CALM DOWN!”  
Leman: “CALM DOWN? CALM THE BLOODY HELL DOWN!? THAT WAS THE  **LAST** RECORDED EVENT OF ME’ DAD’S LAST TRIUMPH!”  
Magnus: “Brother! It was  _ wood _ I am sure that they can remake it!”  
Leman: *Flops down onto his throne* “I sure do bloody well hope so… I need a drink…”  
Roboute: “Now you know how I feel.”

She was almost out of the door when a massive wall of steel came slamming down in front of her, sealing her inside of the room even as the vox loudspeaker was heard yet again.

“She is trapped! All teams, all teams, surround and capture! All methods granted, repeat,  **all methods granted!** ”

Corvus: “All of them are acting like this is a life or death situation… Sure the hall looked to be all but destroyed, but a child can’t be  **that** destructive-”

*The family stopped and heard rising laughter, looking to see both Magnus and Jaghatai going from soft chuckles to full on laughter*

Jaghatai: “YOU HAVE NO IDEA. You have clearly never seen the work of the angry little midgets!”

The tiny pup shook in place, looking up at the massive wall of steel. She had a feeling that the battle was soon going to be over. But her warrior instinct was strong, her canine DNA inherited from a Primarch proving too strong for her undeveloped mind and she would not give up without a fight.

Mortarion: “What? Did Leman breed with a wolf?”  
Leman: “OY!”  
Emperor: “NO, HE DIDN’T. THAT’S MY FAULT. WHEN I MADE ALL OF YOU, I WAS VERY PARTICULAR WITH HOW YOUR GENETIC MAKE UP WOULD WORK AND WELL… LEMAN GOT THE CANIS HELIX. I KNOW ONE OF YOU GOT THE FELINE HELIX, BUT I CAN’T REALLY REMEMBER…”  
Corvus: “Could they have attempted to make a female space marine? Seeing as in how much of a desperate situation the Imperium is…”  
Emperor: “NO. FAR TOO YOUNG FOR THAT, AND NO ONE IS THAT DESPERATE. THE FAILURE RATE OF A CONVERSION IS 99.76% AND EVEN THEN IT REQUIRES A MASSIVE AMOUNT OF MAINTENANCE.”

She prepared herself. Growling and unveiling claw like fingernails even as underneath all of that muck laid an actually cute little girl. Her hair stood up, making herself look bigger than she already was. It didn’t help much, since she was only around 3 feet tall.

Leman: “Damned pup doesn’t want to go down without a fight…”

The wall of steel in front of her began to lift.

She pounced.

Only for her eyes to widen to an impossible amount even as momentum was interrupted mid-air and twisted in the opposite direction, yelping while doing so.

“NO BATH! NO BATH DAD NO BATH!”

Leman: “WHAT!? BATH!? DOES THAT MEAN THAT THE ‘HYGIENE AVERSION’ WAS ALL FOR A DAMNED BATH!?”  
Fulgrim: “You might be surprised what it sometimes takes. Although that is not the case with-”  
Magnus: *Violent coughing*  
Fulgrim: “-with most little princesses.”  
Emperor: “I SWEAR, ALL OF YOU WILL TELL ME-”  
Magnus: “OH HEY, WANT TO TALK ABOUT HOW SHE SAID DAD TO LEMAN!?”  
Leman: “Wait wot- OH WAIT THAT’S ME!”

The alpha was here, making the tiny pup nearly whimper in his presence. He spoke with a deep growl, a tone that made every fiber inside of her body squeak in terror. The behemoth of a man would make sure she would obey, whether she liked it or not. He caught her, hands making sure she wouldn’t go  **anywhere** .

“Listen lil one! Ye’ smell worse than a whole season o’ fermented fish! Ye need that bath before the damned trolls mistake yer smell for pheromones!”

“NO! NO BATH! BATH BAD! BATH BAD!” The tiny pup shrieked, struggling in the grasp of the Primarch. All in vain. The little girl then began to howl, hoping to use her call of help for anyone to free her from the grasp of the alpha.

Leman: “I AM A FRACKING DAD! HOW CAN I BE A FRACKING DA-” *Sudden realization of something* “HA! ALL OF THE WOLF PRIESTS WERE  _ WRONG! _ ”  
Magnus: “I don’t even want to know what you are thinking about.”  
Lion: “Leman.”  
Leman: “Wot?”  
Lion: “I don’t see any mention of children till all the way to the 42nd Millenium.”  
Leman: “...”  
Lion: “I thought you were the ‘biggest ladies man’ of the family. Surely, something must be wrong with you to wait all the way until then to have a child. Roboute was in stasis for ten thousand years. What’s your excuse?”  
Leman: “Oh… eh… wasn’t I like… lost in the warp?”  
Lion: “You disappeared fairly late as I recall. During a feast.”  
Leman: “Eh… I had… no time?”  
Lion: “And as I recall, you are quite the braggart about your sexual exploits.”  
Konrad: “Go for the throat, Lion!”  
Leman: “...what the fook are ye tryin tae say.”  
Lion: “All I am saying is that you mentioned that the Wolf Priests said-”  
Leman: “YER PROVED YER POINT! STOP!”  
Rogal: “Leman has very slow swimmers. A euphemism for a barely functioning reproductive cycle.”  
Emperor: “LADADADA, TOO MUCH INFORMATION BOYS!”

“YER GOING TO TAKE THAT BATH OR YOUR GOING TO GET NUTRIENT PASTE FOR DINNER YOUNG LADY!”

She recoiled in horror.

“NOT DARE!” She proclaimed proudly, hoping against all chances that her father was joking.

“I would.” Leman got incredibly close to her. “I would even do it while we are in the great hall…  _ feasting. _ ”

She let out a tiny whine, much like a kicked puppy, and deflated in his hands. She looked up at him with huge, wide eyes through the mop of untamed hair, lower lip protruding out and quivering.

Fulgrim: “I admit… it still works.”  
Roboute: “Same to be honest.”  
Jaghatai: “Hmm, reminds me of my youth.”  
Magnus: “Almost like my youn-” *Violent elbow to the gut from Jaghatai* “KHM!”  
Emperor: “I SWEAR…”  
Leman: “...it… I can feel it. It  **does** have power!”

“Aww, aren’t yer cute!” Said Leman with a nice big grin. “Yer se, that’s what I would normally say. But right now yer so fracking dirty and smell like a Kraken left to rot. So it ain’t gonna work.”

Leman: “Good one future me!”  
Magnus: “You are cheering on your future self?”  
Leman: “Someone has to!”

More adorable puppy whining coming from the girl.

“Now, yer can come with me and have yer bath. Or yer can explain to your mother and her sisters who are coming back tomorrow why yer haven’t taken a bath in over a month.”

Magnus: “A MONTH.”  
Leman: “Well-”  
Fulgrim: “A FULL BLOODY MONTH!?”  
Leman: “Okay liste-”  
Sanguinius: “Do you have any idea how foul that is!?”  
Leman: “Kinda-?”  
Roboute: “Leman, we can go for months without bathing. But a growing child needs baths! There are an untold amount of diseases they could contract! Even if they are half of us!”  
Leman: “Okay, you have a point.”

Silence, then a small, audible gulp was heard from the little girl, her hair deflating and her original size on full display.

“That's what I thought. Now, bath time!”

Fulgrim: “Are you threatening to sic your wife on your daughter?”  
Leman: “I… no-”  
Jaghatai: “An effective strategy.”  
Leman: “Uh… thank you brother?”  
Magnus: “I can’t judge you for that.”  
Leman: “Even you now?”

She began struggling again, even full on gnawing on the gloved hands of Leman, even as he carried her out of the room, singing the Fenrisian equivalent of a children's song. There were very visible teeth marks on his gauntleted hands.

Konrad: “Hmph, not bad.”  
Mortarion: “Indeed, the gene-lottery seems to be with this one. Going off of what I know, if her teeth are that strong, then perhaps the rest of her bones are as well… I can only guess, since I don’t have access to their full medical history and scans.”  
Leman: “So my kid is badass?”  
Mortarion: *long suffering reaper sigh* “...yes Leman. Your kid is ‘badass’.”  
Leman: “Good!”

“There once was a hero called Ragnar the red Hand, who came riding to the Fang from the ole training camps!”

Leman: “Aaaah! Haven’t heard this one in forever!”  
Magnus: “It ... sounds surprisingly fine so far.”

Carrying her to a secluded room with quite a lot of Space Wolves guarding the entrance. Inside was a tub, a hose and a Wolf Priest with heavy duty cleaning tools in his hands.

“And the braggart did swagger and brandish his blade as he told of bold battle and maidens he bed!”

Magnus: “WAIT WHAT?!”  
Lorgar: “Even I did not see that coming.”  
Jaghatai: “A nice, traditional tune thus far.”

Leman had to physically hold her in the tub, the water running a dark brown as it washed over the girl. She let out howls of discomfort, which were ignored. The hose had to be used quite liberally, due to the dirt, blood and all the nasty shit caked on her getting in the way of the cleaning.

“But then he went quiet, did the Red Hand when he met a Valkyrie who said… ‘Oh you talk and you lie and drink all our mead! Now I think it’s high time that you lie down and bleed!’”

Lorgar: “This is beyond barbaric…”  
Ferrus: “I… I don’t know how to react to this.”  
Fulgrim: “How is this meant to be a children’s tune?”  
Leman: “It’s a lesson!”  
Angron: “It’s a good way to teach kids the reality of this damned galaxy. Pussies, all of you.”  
Leman: *Smacks the hand rest of his throne* “Thank you!”

Enough water and soap, and the little girl started to shine through the dirt, showing off her adorable little face and angry wee eyes. She growled from under the water, the Wolf Priest working extra hard to scrub her with the brush, grumbling how this happened every wolfin’ month.

“And so then came the clashing and slashing of steel as the brave lass charged in full of zeal.”

Magnus: “OH GREAT! MURDER OF A POOR WOMAN BY A DRUNK-”  
Leman: “VALKYRIE! ONE CAN BEAT YER ASS IN A FAIR FIGHT!”  
Magnus: “YOU TAKE THAT BACK!”  
Leman: “I BLOODY WELL WON’T! FROM WHAT I HEARD, THEY FORMED IN DURING THE FRACKIN INDOMITUS CRUSADE FROM SHIELDMAIDENS AND HAVE  _ ACTUAL _ POWER ARMOUR AND GOOD WEAPONS! THE REGULAR WOMEN OF FENRIS CAN DRINK AS MUCH AS A MAN CAN, CAN FIGHT LIKE A MAN AND CAN SWEAR LIKE A MAN, ALL OF THEM ARE FOOKING BADASSES WHO CAN KICK YER ASS.”  
Magnus: “THEN HOW DO YOU KNOW THE DAMNED SONG!?”  
Leman: “EVERYONE CUSTOMISES IT! Wolf traditions and all that…”  
Magnus: “SEE WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU DON’T WRITE THINGS DOWN!?”

Finally rinsed, the girl was pulled from the tub, leaving a cascade of water rolling off of her as she was then assaulted with fluffy towels, drying her off and leaving her with distorted whines coming from the bundle.

“And the braggart named Ragnar was boastful no mooore… when his ugly red hand went flying out of the door!”

Magnus: “NOW WE CAN ADD MAIMING TO THE LIST OF THINGS THE POOR LITTLE GIRL KNOWS!”

Finally, she was dried, wrapped in a towel and finally able to sit comfortably in her father’s arms, looking like a tiny pupperito. She blinked a few times, noticing the song ended. She looked up to her father, asking “What happen to Ragnar?”

Leman was glad that even through her little bath ordeal, she did hear it all. “Ah, from what I recall lass, he wanted a trial from the gods... “

Lorgar: “Ah! Fenrisians still worship gods.  _ I wonder why they get to keep that, even when Monarchia was burned because we believed in a god. _ Truly, even at the most basic level of civilization, faith can still prevail and make mankind fair and stable in a society-”

“... so they threw him from the top of the Fang.”

Lorgar:  **“WHAT!?”**

She giggled, snickering about the death of the braggart. “Yey.”

Magnus: “Oh great. Your daughter loves it. Amazing. Can already tell she’s going to be just like you.”  
Leman: “Yer say that like a bad thing.”  
Magnus: “OH! I wonder  _ why…” _

“...it’s also good luck we were able to wash you so easily. You really need to stop running around naked.” Leman shook his head, “little destruction pup.”

Emperor: “LEMAN, PLEASE, DON’T LET YOUR CHILDREN RUN AROUND NAKED AND COVERED IN BLOOD AND DIRT.”  
Leman: “Father, I was trying to fix it!”  
Rogal: “You barely succeed brother. And this appears to be a monthly recurrence.”  
Leman: *Wolfgrumbling*

The little girl looked down at her belly, patted it a few times and barked up at Leman. “Food now.”

Her father now gave her a wide smile.

“Equerry!”

There was a few seconds pause as Leman waited expectantly.

“Oh, where the bloody hell is he- Equerry!”

The door to the room opened and in stepped Ragnar Blackmane. “My lord Russ, I apologize but… Lukas is banished.”

Leman: “WOT!? I MADE HIM MY EQUERRY!?”  
Magnus: “WHAT POSSESSED YOU TO DO THAT!?”  
Leman: “... I suddenly like my decision.”  
Magnus: “YOU'RE DOING IT OUT OF  **_SPITE!?”  
_ ** Leman: “Certainly bloody well not! I am merely saying that I can see the… effective side of it.”

“What?! Again?! In the middle of a damned Helwinter!?”

“Not the first time my Lord, nor the last I suspect.”

“Agh…” Leman rubbed his eyes with his free hand. “Fine, call for a feast!”

“May I ask, what for my Lord?”

Leman held up the tiny cute ball of a girl in front of Ragnar’s face.

“I got Freya clean! And there was only minor damage and this time no one died!”

Leman: “Egh, from wot I can see, gettin that little hell hound bathed does call for a feast.”  
Fulgrim: “What? No it doesn't. You just need to have a better strategy for it. Rosie loves baths-”

*collective throat clearing*

Emperor: “ROSIE EH?”  
Fulgrim: “I UH- I CAN EXPLAIN!”  
Emperor: “NEW WIFE?”  
Fulgrim: “...YES!”  
Roboute: “You’re married!?”  
Fulgrim: “Um… yes.”  
Rogal: “Sincere congratulations brother.”  
Fulgrim: “Oh um… Well, cat’s out of the bag.”  
Rogal: “But there is no cat-”  
Perturabo: *smack*  
Lion: “Congratulations indeed, knowing you it was more of the political necessity however.”  
Fulgrim: “Yes and no… can we not talk about it?”  
Emperor: “FOR NOW. BUT YOU  **WILL** TELL ME LATER.”

Suddenly the entire fang violently shook.

“What in the wolfin fu-”

The Vox loudspeaker spoke again.

“Iron Priests to the ventilation duct maintenance panels! The system has entirely collapsed!”

Leman:  _ “Tiny cute ball of mass destruction…”  
_ Roboute: “You get used to it.”  
Jaghatai: “Indeed…”

Leman looked down at his outstretched daughter.

“Make that… significant damage.”

Freya looked up at her father her head cocked to the side, and if she had one, her tail would be wagging. “Awoo?”

“I swear little one, as soon as yer can get in armour and listen to commands, I’m taking yer with me exploring.” He began walking with his daughter towards a nearby mead hall. “If he were still alive, I couldn’t wait to see the look on Lion’s face when I let you loose among his sons! Like a wolf chasing a wee house cat…” Leman snickered in good humour, remembering better days.

Lion: “You better not brother.”  
Leman: “Afraid brother?”  
Lion: “Wouldn’t want to see your little one hurt.”  
Leman: “Oh trust me, that is the least of what I am afraid of.”  
Lion: “Then don’t be surprised when she comes up against something greater than her.”

As the vid closed, the last line before it went off was something along the lines of: “And make sure yer don’t chew through the table again, pup! Those are for smashing! Not biting!”

The vid suddenly turned off.

“Ahhh right as we were gettin’ to the fun part!”

“That was enough tomfoolery for one decade I think…” Slowly spoke up Horus, falling into shock sometime during the beginning of the vid.

“Nonsense! I think she is but the cutest little ball of fluff!” Added on Vulkan.

“While also being a ball of mass destruction.” Slowly muttered Konrad. “The perfect unsuspecting weapon.”

“Oy! How about  **not** using my daughter as a weapon!?”

“You said that you would do it yourself!” Protested Magnus.

“Different situation!”

“Oh! So using your daughter to poke fun at our brothers is fine with potential violent and deadly consequences is fine, but using her in a war-”

“She is just a pup brother!” Defended Leman.

“THAT YOU ARE SINGING WAR SONGS TO!”

“IN LEMAN’S DEFENCE, IT IS ACTUALLY A PART OF HIS CULTURE, AS WELL AS JAGHATAI’S.” Spoke up the Emperor even as Magnus turned to Jaghatai.

“It is true. There are many such songs on Chogoris, although with allot more throat singing.” Jaghatai rubbed at his chin in thought, “...now that I think about it, quite a lot have death, dismemberment, sex, crusades, violence, all of them are like that really. They’re fine.”

Magnus sighed rubbing at his temples. “It just seems odd that songs meant for children are so violent.”

Lorgar added on with, “To be fair, we are built for war and the galaxy isn’t very… child friendly, in the slightest.”

“I suppose so. Maybe I’m just a bit more sensitive to the topic because of… A reason I will not get into. Maybe I’m just making a fuss out of nothing.” Magnus relented, knowing that maybe he was just overreacting to this.

“EXACTLY. BESIDES, CHILDREN’S SONGS, LITERATURE AND ENTERTAINMENT HAS ALWAYS BEEN VIOLENT OR CLOSE TO VIOLENCE. EVER SINCE ANCIENT TERRAN TIMES.” The Emperor spoke up, thinking back on his own childhood and songs he heard during his wandering days. “A FEW FAMOUS ONES ARE ABOUT THE BLACK PLAGUE, RELIGIOUS PERSECUTION, TREASON WITH SOME BEHEADING, HUMAN SACRIFICE, MURDEROUS PSYCHOPATHS, A RIVER TURNING RED FROM THE SHEER AMOUNT OF PEOPLE DYING IN IT AND ANOTHER ABOUT THREE MEN WHO CONSPIRED TO OVERTHROW THE GOVERNMENT. JUST TO NAME A FEW.” The Emperor shrugged, “CHILDREN’S SONGS HAVE BEEN FUCKED UP FOR A LONG TIME.”

“I swear… humanity is such a crude vile species at time…” Finally finished Magnus even as the rest of the family was surprised or just outright acceptance at the customs of ancient mankind.

“YEAH, BUT IT’S AWESOME.”

“So that’s where Konrad and Angron get it from…” Muttered Horus.


	7. Extras 2 - In which Vulkan shows he is a great dad and we see they don't always come out right

After watching the stellar parenting of Leman from the future, and the resulting debate on children’s songs, the family tried to figure out who would choose from the pile next.

“I don’t care if Leman calls it ‘Wolf Pack Rules’ or not, we should bring our system back of us taking turns for vid viewing!” Magnus spoke up, hoping to get a routine back in place.

“I agree with Magnus,” Roboute nodded, “it’s best we keep to a system, lest the faster of brothers will have the first pick every time. Not that we cannot plan for ourselves, but it would be fair.”

Leman shrugged, looking to the pile, “too late.”

Sputtering, Magnus looked to the pile to see Vulkan sifting through it. He looked up, smiling and waving at Magnus. “Everyone was taking so long to figure out what to do, so I got up and began to look!” He said this with a wide grin. “Do not worry! I am picking something at random, to be fair!”

Lorgar nearby shook his head, “knowing the luck of everyone here, you’ll most likely pick something that has to do with you in the future. Calling it now.”

“Knowing the  **shit** luck of everyone here, he will pick something emotionally scarring as well,” Konrad commented from his throne in his typical sullen voice. It’s better for everyone else to go through the trauma of bad parenting, thankfully he would never have to go through that.

Vulkan did stop and pull a vid out at random, showing it to the room. There wasn’t anything special looking about the vid in question, no runes, no writing, nothing. Just a regular random vid. “I believe this one will suffice!”

“WELL, VULKAN, HAND IT OVER TO THE MAGOS AND GET COMFORTABLE.” The Emperor waved off his son, ready for more vid watching. He idly wondered if it was right to keep sitting here and watching vids, but then he remembered that Malcador usually was able to hold down the fort… so whatever. It’s not like with her where she would nag him into oblivion and attack him with her powers in another bout of emotional explosion. Now that he thought about it, maybe…? No… No, not yet… Maybe? No. He wasn’t wrong. Never wrong about that.

Magos Lehm took the vid gratefully and began the rites, he’s done this particular rite so many times now, it would forever be burned into his mind and cogitators. Perhaps this was the meaning of his life?

**...  
M42. 188 - Prometheus  
...  
**

The vid opened up inside of an Apothecarion and from the multiple Salamander heraldries emblazoned upon the walls it belonged to the Salamanders. It showed a pacing Vulkan without his armor looking in between both directions of the hallway he was in. He would go in one direction, then stop, think and go the other, before he repeated the action.

Konrad: “Called it.”  
Lorgar: “Are you sure that isn’t  **my** line?”  
Konrad: “Usually it would but take a second. Vulkan looks like he’s going mad and he’s in an Apothecarion. Calling it now, it’s going to be emotionally scarring.”  
Vulkan: “Please no…”

Choosing between staying by his wife’s side or his son’s, was one of the more difficult choices he had to make. Obviously, his wife just went through her third time giving birth to one of their children, but she had their two older children by her side.

No one was with his youngest.

Vulkan: “Oh no… Please don’t let the little one be hurt…”  
Konrad: “Well-”  
Emperor: “KONRAD!”  
Konrad: *crosses arms and sits back* “fine.”  
Vulkan: “Mortarion? What are some of the reasons why a baby would be taken from their mother?”  
Mortarion: “A variety of reasons. Usually it’s for the first check-up and making sure everything is fine. The child is given back to the mother within the hour.”  
Vulkan: “What else?”  
Roboute: “I did not know you knew how to take care of newborns Mortarion.”  
Mortarion: “I fucking hate babies. Dealing with them is the bane of my existence. I was born with the knowledge and since I _am_ an Apothecary, I have to know a lot about it. But yes, there are other reasons why the child will be taken from the mother. And it isn’t pretty.”  
Vulkan: *takes a deep breath and watches the screen with rising worry, hoping for the best*

Vulkan had left his wife’s side, finding the neonatal care unit of the Apothecarion where they took his too early, too small, too frail son. The first two were able to immediately be given to their mother, already in her arms and able to be cared for from the get-go. Red-cheeked, healthy babies.

So why was his youngest so early? So small? So frail? Perrin and Venus had been easy, healthy, strong, on time. He was born just barely after twenty-three weeks.

Mortarion: “He’s dead.”  
Vulkan: “But-but it says that he is in care-”  
Mortarion: “He won’t make it through the night.”  
Vulkan: “No! He will!”  
Mortarion: “Fine. Don’t accept it from me. Listen to everyone on the screen tell you it’s going to die. What difference does it make? Make a new one and snap this one's neck as mercy.”  
Vulkan: “WHAT!? How could you say such a thing!? I will not give up on the little one just because you have so little love and care in your heart! Or did your adoptive father suck it all away from you!?”  
Mortarion: *slowly turns to Vulkan* “...what did you just say?”  
Vulkan: “You heard me,  _ brother _ ! You are cold!”  
Mortarion: *Looks back at the screen* “Blame father. He made me.”  
Konrad: “I think this viewing is going along wonderfully.”  
Emperor: “FUCKING HELL…”

He was worried over his youngest.

It was quick work to find where they kept him, where they kept his son, but it was another playing field to see him. The Apothecaries told their Primarch, flat out, that no. No, he could not be with him right now.

So he watched through the glass, watched as he saw his youngest be put into an incubator, watch as he was fed tubes, attached to monitoring equipment. And not for the first time did he wonder if this was the right thing to do.

During the earliest check-ups, they were warned that the tests were coming back strange, that something was different and wrong this time. Farther into the process, there were worrying reports. Then when his son decided it was time, did Vulkan’s worry reach its tipping point.

He was so small, he was dwarfed in his incubator, smaller than any of his elder children. Just barely over a pound and a half. He could fit in the palm of one of his hands.

Mortarion: “What else do you need to see? He’s too small, he apparently needs breathing and feeding tubes and now he’s beyond underweight. And you call me the cruel one?”  
Vulkan: “He’s being given a fighting chance!”  
Mortarion: “More like you are prolonging suffering under the guise of love. Mark my words. The Apothecary will recommend you let him die.”

Vulkan was so deep in worry and thought, that he barely registered when an Apothecary came to him, waiting to speak to him. He wanted to keep watching over his son, watching over his boy through the glass.

Mortarion: “A hundred thrones says the Apothecary suggests putting the child down.”  
Vulkan: “Don’t you dare take bets on that! You aren’t too far away for me to break your back!”  
Sanguinius: “Vulkan, calm down. It’s a delicate situation and-”  
Konrad: “Fifty thrones says that Vulkan gives the kid a chance.”  
Horus: “Are you fucking kidding me!?”  
Perturabo: “Two hundred says that the child is deformed.”  
Sanguinius: “WHAT IS WRONG WITH ALL OF YOU!?”  
Vulkan: “This is my child! How could you all be taking bets on how much he will suffer!?”  
Mortarion: “Calm down. He’s not born here. And besides, who knows how many of your own sons did you grant a mercy killing before? Or do I have to mention the pyromania?”  
Horus: “ **_Enough_ ** ! I expect better from all of you, Father expects better from all of you! All of us! Are we really so sociopathic that we are having fun at the expense of a child’s life who is also our nephew? We are better than this! Beyond better than this! Vulkan’s questionable morality aside, all of you need to shut up and drop it!”  
Rogal: “Do I get to hit Perturabo for being a terrible person?”  
Horus: “Yes.”  
Emperor: “YES.”  
Rogal: *Smacks Perturabo*

“There is much to speak about, my Primarch.” Chief Apothecary Harath Shen began, knowing that this was going to be a very difficult conversation. He had been the same Apothecary who monitored the process of Perrin and Venus, their growth and how they changed over time. He monitored the process of the youngest and was the same who told his Primarch of the… possible difficulties.

“Speak then, my son,” Vulkan spoke in a worried tone, his eyes glued to the window leading to the neonatal care ward.

“It is… difficult sire.” The Apothecary treaded carefully. “He was born  _ very _ prematurely as you know, and with… structural alterations.”

*Most brothers slowly turn to Mortarion*

Mortarion: “He’s a mutant.”  
Corvus: *sighs*  
Sanguinius: “...I…” *trails off uncomfortably*  
Vulkan: “ **What?** ”  
Sanguinius: “Nothing.”

Vulkan turned to his son now, the worry evident on his face. “What do you mean?”

The Apothecary sighed. “He is… different my lord. His body is…”

“Say it so that I can understand it my son, I shall not be angry.” Vulkan encouraged the hesitating Apothecary.

“He is a mutant, my lord.”

Vulkan’s red eyes went blank. Withdrawing into himself. So much was hidden in those depths, emotions he couldn’t place. Just the resounding question of ‘why?’ “I see…” He spoke silently. “How… bad?”

“Enough that I recommend giving him the Emperor’s Mercy.” The Apothecary spoke plainly, forcing the words out and hoping his Primarch would make the right decision. And if that decision just so happened to agree with him, he would feel not a shred of pleasure.

Mortarion: *Looks over, raising an eyebrow and pointing with one hand at the screen*  
Vulkan: “Are you happy,  _ brother _ ?”  
Mortarion: “Not exactly.”  
Vulkan: “But you’re right. Surely you’d be beyond happy to know that.”  
Mortarion: “I do not like my knowledge and profession to be insulted, yes. But am I happy about putting down an innocent child? Even if it’s a mutant? No.”

Vulkan’s first thought was to deny this, he didn’t fight every day in this galaxy to allow his own child to not have the chance to live.

“My lord… it is highly unlikely that he will even make it through the night as he is.”

He spoke sense. But he knew he couldn’t make such a decision by himself, his wife deserved to be a part of this. This was  _ their  _ son, not just his. “I need time to think.”

The Apothecary bowed his head in respect as his sire left without another word. Releasing his breath the moment Vulkan walked out of the room.

**...**

Contrary to the Apothecaries' beliefs, however, the babe  _ did _ make it through the night.

Mortarion: “Huh. Must have gotten some of Vulkan’s healing capabilities.”  
Vulkan: “...so there is a chance?”

Then through the weekend.

Then the week.

Then the month.

Vulkan: “Where am I? Why did I leave!?”  
Roboute: “Vulkan, calm down. I’m sure you were there with him, it’s just… skipping. You would be there for him, wouldn’t you?”  
Vulkan: “...y...yes. Yes, I would.”  
Jaghatai: “Then you would know that your future self would be there as well.”  
Vulkan: “Yes, you’re right. I’m sorry.”

As he grew, his deformities and mutations only became more obvious. He cried almost constantly lest he was given a mass amount of pain medication, so much that it made his senses practically dull.

Putting that many painkillers in a child that size and age would have killed them long ago, thankfully or in some minds of Apothecaries, unfortunately, the genes of the Primarch kept the babe from succumbing to mercy.

Operation was considered and dropped so many times it became practically a routine amongst the Apothecaries. A plan was thought up of how they could…  _ fix _ him and then immediately dropped when yet another flaw or development threw the plan off the rails completely.

Jaghatai: “So. It seems even our children have a chance to… Not be correctly formed.”  
Magnus: “It seems so.”  
Fulgrim: “Is it just certain ones of us? Or is the potential there for all of us?”  
Magnus: “I don’t know, I’m not an expert in this field. Ask Mortarion.”  
Mortarion: “Now what?”  
Jaghatai: “What are the chances of a Primechild experiencing mutations like this? A Primechild growing up normally to a Primechild growing up with more problems. And everywhere in between.”  
Emperor: “DID YOU JUST CALL THEM PRIMECHILDREN?”  
Jaghatai: “Well, yes? They are children who come from us, the Primarchs. I just thought it was a good title for them since they are half of us.”  
Emperor: “I LIKE IT. WE'RE USING THAT TERM FOR THEM NOW.”  
Mortarion: “That makes things easier, but anyway... Theoretically zero. Practically, on a planet so heavily radiated that it turns one's skin black and eyes a pure red especially after multiple births. Much higher.”  
Fulgrim: “So is it just home factors, or is it like baselines? Where there is always a chance of mutation?”  
Mortarion: “Just like with baselines, deformities and mutations are always going to be a problem, the chances of that are connected to a large list of factors ranging from environment, family history, what the mother ingests during gestation, what the mother experiences during gestation, what kind of genes are given by the father and many more factors. There is no completely safe and healthy way to ensure a completely healthy child unless you dabble into genecrafting.” *He waved an arm around the room* “...as you can see, even  **we** are not perfect. Despite a certain someone trying his best.”  
Roboute: “So there will always be a chance that a Primechild can grow and come out… wrong.”  
Mortarion: “Yes. Very wrong. Our genes aren’t meant to be mixed with regular baselines, anything could go wrong. Imagine a baseline having our mind but not the biology to keep up. Or their muscles growing at an abnormally fast rate and their bones are unable to keep up or their mind simply crashes as it isn’t capable of comprehending its biology. There are multiple ways a Primechild could come out wrong, and so far we have seen two examples. And one is a  _ halfbreed _ . It was only a matter of time until we saw a Primechild who just happened to have a very unlucky draw. At most half of the genes are coming from someone else, and that’s where it gets bad. So to speak.”  
Emperor: “AH, YEAH, SURE. NO MIXING BOYS. TOTALLY.”  
Jaghatai: “Right.”  
Magnus: “Of course.”  
Fulgrim: “Absolutely.”  
Lion: “That would explain _a lot_.”

All the while Vulkan retreated to the mountains. Completely secluding himself away from everyone.

His wife… she wanted the babe gone, given the Final Mercy, for such pain was not meant for any life. She argued that if they really loved him, they would let him go. What scared Vulkan the most was how he actually stopped to consider if it was right to keep him alive. That maybe it was better to let him go.

He thought long and hard about it, about how either option had their blessings and curses. How the babe should have a chance to live, that maybe time could help with his issues. Or how possibly if he would get worse with time and life would be even more unbearable.

What was more humane? What was right? What was for the best for him?

He came to a conclusion, and Vulkan returned.

And he took the babe in his hands and for the first time since its birth, it stopped crying.

As his mutated only red iris eyes looked into Vulkan complete dark red ones. A connection was formed, an unbreakable one possible only between a parent and his offspring.

“Janan,” Vulkan spoke, christening the child and with it, sentencing it to life even as he turned to the Apothecaries. “He will live. Make him as comfortable as possible. I will not abandon my son.”

Vulkan: “Did I make the right choice?”  
Magnus: “I don’t know. I can’t imagine having to sit down and think about whether killing my child would be better than to let it live a life of pain.”  
Horus: “Mortarion did bring up a good point though, don’t we have to give the Final Mercy to our own genesons at times? How is this any different?”  
Sanguinius: “He’s a baby. One of our own blood.”  
Vulkan: “Shouldn’t he have the chance to live?”  
Mortarion: “But isn’t it crueler to force that on them? I don’t see the boy-”  
Vulkan: “ _Janan_.”  
Mortarion: *Rolls eyes* “- _ Janan _ . I don’t see him having much of a life to look forward to. Is it really better for you to keep him alive?”  
Vulkan: “Maybe he could grow up and get better? Maybe with time he could overcome the hurdles he was given. You can’t see the future.”  
Magnus: “Maybe. Maybe not.”  
Konrad: “Definitely not.”  
Horus: “Why are you so damned negative about it, Konrad?”  
Konrad: “Because when  _ you _ start seeing every possible fucking future in everything I would love to see you stay positive.”  
Sanguinius: “Are you sure it’s because of that, or you want to be like that?”  
Konrad: *Looks at Sanguinius, eye twitching* “One of the things I just saw that might happen to the kid is that he gets killed. Another is that he grows up in a life of pain and misery. And another is that he gets turned into mush by… by  _ something.  _ Most likely an explosion.”  
Sanguinius: “And is that everything you see? Or like I said, only the ones you want to see.”  
Konrad: “It’s all I fucking saw feather duster. Now fuck off. They aren’t always accurate.”

Janan cooed up at his father, the sound crackly and weak from all of the screaming that the poor boy had done throughout his short life so far. He was impossibly tiny in Vulkan’s hand, fitting there in just one. But despite how small he was, how much he went through, Vulkan saw the fire of a fighter inside of his tiny body, a man already developed, the body he was given the only restraint holding him back.

And at that moment, Vulkan knew, one day, the boy would be strong.

**...**   
**M42. 201 - Nocturne  
...  
**

Sanguinius: “What? Such a massive time skip!”  
Horus: “How come you’re always the one to notice that?”  
Sanguinius: “Because we might be missing out on content!”  
Ferrus: “I am fairly sure that if it is cut, it is cut for a good reason.”  
Corvus: “And do we really want to sit here and watch years and years of practically nothing?”  
Roboute: “Are you trying to say something?”  
Corvus: “Why do you immediately think I’m talking about you?”  
Roboute: *Gives a dismissive grunt*

A groan sounded in the darkness.

Soon after it was followed by the creaking of a bed even as someone huffed.

“You can do it…” The voice was… different, far too much of a toothy sound to it than healthy.

The noise took a deep breath, the creaking of the bed increased, and suddenly, a dull thud rang out across the room followed by a pained grunt.

Not even a second later, the sound of running feet was heard, and the door to the room was flung open, showing what looked like a grown girl, almost a woman, wearing her nightclothes. She had short-cropped black hair which matched her pitch-black skin. Her completely red, glowing eyes made her completely stand out in the darkness.

Vulkan: “She really does look a lot like me.”  
Jaghatai: “Yes, it’s almost as if she’s your daughter.”  
Vulkan: “Please, I’m not in the mood for you to treat me like Fulgrim.”  
Fulgrim: “Wait what”

“Janan!?” She called out in worry even as she flipped on the switch, only to gasp in horror. “Janan!” She cried out again as she rushed over to the figure on the floor covered in blankets, a quiet crying noise coming from beneath them.

“Leave me! I can geth uph…” Janan underneath the blankets spoke, apparently waving away the figure, who didn’t like that one bit as she began collecting away the blankets revealing… a monster.

Sanguinius: *Full on recoil* “Gah! He looks worse than the mutants from Baal!”  
Mortarion: “...worse then I expected.”  
Vulkan: “Apologize. Now.”  
Sanguinius: “I-I’m… Sorry? He’s just… He’s…”  
Konrad: “Don’t apologize dammit! Vulkan, accept it, your kid is a mutant. You can’t deny that fact.”  
Vulkan: “Yes! He’s a mutant! But I don’t have to hear from all of you about it!”  
Roboute: “Now you know how I feel.”  
Leman: “Big difference between having a halfbreed and having a mutant that looks like his face was struck with a power shovel.”  
Roboute: *Opens mouth and realizes what Leman just said* “Wow Leman… that was…”  
Jaghatai: “Too far.”  
Leman: “But he is. No use sugar-coating it.”  
Rogal: “May I smack Leman as well, Father?”  
Vulkan: “No. Let me.”  
Emperor: “JUST CALM DOWN BOYS AND WATCH THE VID!”  
Vulkan: “He just insulted my son. I should get one really good hit on him for that.”  
Emperor: “A GOOD HIT FROM YOU WOULD PROBABLY PUT HIM OUT OF ACTION FOR A WHILE, SO NO. BUT I HAVE A FEELING YOU WON’T NEED TO.”

His jaw was bent, his back was slightly hunched, his arms were as thin as his bones… his chest… it looked…  _ strange _ , as if it was far more rigid then it should be. And his legs were… muscular but slightly twisted.

“Venish… I can get uph myself…” Janan declared, looking up at Venus with his red irised eyes.

“Nonsense! Don’t try it, come on, let me help you.” She reached down underneath his arms and pulled him up, sitting him down on his bed, much to Janan’s protests.

She took a breather then, looking over Janan, who besides the obvious mutations and wet cheeks looked fine. Looking pathetic merely sitting there on his bed, his much paler almost grey skin tone setting him even further apart from Venus’ own coal black.

“Brother, why do you do this to yourself?” She asked, chiding him lightly as she knelt to lower herself to his level, wiping away the embarrassed tears from his face.

He looked up at her, his head tilted slightly due to his hunch. “I gotta tryh.” He spoke, his iron will evident in his tone even as Venus walked over to his window and pulled back the curtains, letting in some of Nocturnes reddish sunlight.

“I know, but like Father always says, you need to learn when to ask for help. Doing everything yourself doesn’t make you strong.” She gently chided him, almost like a mother would.

He gave her a look that screamed defiance, but he said nothing to that.

Emperor: “IT IS IMPORTANT THAT HE IS GIVEN SOME TYPE OF INDEPENDENCE. I CAN UNDERSTAND HE WOULD FEEL TRAPPED AND EVEN CODDLED, EVEN IF SHE IS JUST BEING A CARING SISTER.”  
Horus: “Speaking from experience, Father?”  
Emperor: “PERHAPS.”  
Vulkan: “She is just being a good big sister, Nocturnean women tend to do that a lot. They’re very aggressive and protective of their families and siblings.”  
Horus: “...how aggressive?”  
Vulkan: “I’d say on par with Fenrisian women.”  
Leman: “Bullshit.”  
Vulkan: “I will bet on that Leman. After I hit you.”  
Leman: “You will lose. On both counts.”

“You know you need to hold on to something to get up.” She continued to lecture him as he just stared at her. “We didn’t spend time forging and installing those railings for you for nothing.”

“I knowh…” He said silently, slowly seeing the reason in her voice. “I just wanted to geth up by myselh. Like a normal kidh.”

His sister looked at him. “You aren’t a normal kid, Janan. You have far too much of a brilliant mind for that.”

“And a shith body to go withh ith!”

Corvus: “Janan obviously has taken to his situation with… heart.”  
Vulkan: “Thank you for being supportive, brother.”

“Don’t let mom hear you say that.” Venus quickly reminded him, shaking her head at the comment. “Now go and wash up, busy day today, not everyday one celebrates turning thirteen!”

Vulkan: *Nodding* “Ah yes, the coming of age ceremony.”  
Roboute: “Funny how a lot of planets have that sort of thing.”  
Leman: “Some things humans do just end up being a staple.”

Janan rolled his eyes as if it would make a damn difference. They hoped for years that age would do something for him. As it was, even if he could stand straight he wouldn’t even reach half of his older brother Perrin’s size.

“Fineh.” He drawled out as he stood up, this time using the railings and hobbled over to his bathroom.

Getting dressed and proper hygiene was difficult, to say the least. Taking him close to a standard half-hour just to dress and wash his teeth and face along with combing his very long dark hair. He always felt that the longer hair could hide some of his uglier features.

He dressed in voluminous dark green robes. Two sizes too big for him, they helped hide his...  _ condition _ .

He looked at himself in the mirror and scowled. Oh, how he  _ hated _ that face. How he  _ despised _ all those looks of pity his friends and family gave him. They meant well of course, but in the end, he was a  _ monster _ , a freak of nature.

Konrad: *Winces*  
Corvus: “Something wrong, brother?”  
Konrad: “Nothing.”

He had stood in front of this mirror countless times before, wishing for a change, for anything, just to stand a chance at a normal fucking life. He would give anything! He didn’t care if he lost his legs or his arms! Just that he could move easier! So that his own mother didn’t look at him when she thought he didn’t know that she was! So he could make his dad proud! So he could follow Perrin and become a Space Marine! But NO! They rejected him! They all rejected and  _ pitied him _ and his life just had to fucking be  **HELL!**

Angron: “Kid has fury. I will give him that.”  
Lion: “Fury can’t be all he needs to be a Marine, or else he would have been one. Perhaps he can actually show some promise in another way. Or else Vulkan had wasted his time.”  
Mortarion: “It is too late to begin the procedures anyway.”  
Lorgar: “He doesn’t need to be a Marine to find a purpose, anyway. He still has a chance to  **be** something. To find his place in the world.”  
Roboute: “Hmm, taking into account the status of the Imperium… we can only hope.”

His arm shot out, punching and shattering the mirror, sending shards everywhere even as his hand bled. How easy it would be to just lay an arm against the shattered glass, a sharp pull, and hopefully an end.

He looked down at the shards in the sink. He looked at one of the bigger ones, taking it in hand.

Oh, he could do it. He tried it in the past. Really _REALLY_ _fucking hard._ But his Primarch DNA was strong enough, just strong enough to not make it as easy as this.

Vulkan: “WAIT WHAT”  
Mortarion: “I could, but I’ll stay quiet.”  
Konrad: “I won’t. Still think it was a good idea to keep him around?”  
Vulkan: *Has to be restrained by Ferrus and Magnus* “Say that again!”  
Konrad: “Gladly-”  
Emperor: “KONRAD NO. SIT DOWN AND SHUT UP. IMPERIAL DECREE, NO ONE TALKS SHIT ABOUT VULKAN’S KIDS. VULKAN, SIT DOWN.”  
Vulkan: *Angrily grumbling, staring down Konrad*  
Konrad: *Hisses*

If it didn’t piss him off so much, he would have laughed. How his Primarch DNA kept him from dying so easily, but was still inert enough to keep him from being like his siblings. Like everyone else. Almost like a personal hell.

Oh well. He’ll kill himself some other time. Besides, he’d just end up inconveniencing everyone one more time, having to clean up his body.

Vulkan: “What… No. No, no. No, don’t think about yourself like that…”

He threw the shard in the sink and opened the tap, washing his already completely healed hand. He healed quickly, but not quick enough for him to live through any of the procedures.  _ Entangled organs ingrown with bones. _ The Apothecaries said.  _ An impossible task.  _ They said.

Once he was done, he walked out of his room and down the stairs, taking it very slowly, one step at a time as he held onto the rail with his frail arms.

Finally getting down, he turned and walked to the kitchen, seeing a pot with some boiling liquid about to boil over, he lunged and turned off the stove, but the liquid continued to bubble up. He quickly took some rags and hobbled over, taking off the pot with a heave of strength.

Vulkan: “No son! What are you doing!?”  
Lorgar: “Oh no, now Vulkan is doing it…”

“Janan!” He heard his sister from the door into the kitchen call out in shock as he attempted to move the pot over to a cool cooker.

“I canh… do ith!” He declared, his voice strained as he moved the pot. “Almost… goth  _ ith!” _ Then the pot tipped, sending the liquid pouring as it tipped over the stove, luckily going into its spill drain, the scalding liquid just barely missing Janan.

“Fuck!” The boy exclaimed even as Venus rushed by him and began cleaning up. “FUCK!” He declared again, more tears coming to his eyes as the  _ pain _ flooded in. More frustration bubbling over the pain, knowing his mom, his sister, his brother, everyone else could have done that easily, but oh! Not him. Never him!

“It’s sad,”  
“To see this.”  
“Not having the strength,”  
“To do basic tasks,”  
“Must be,”  
“Frustrating.”  
Horus: "...when did you two come in?"  
Emperor: “LIKE YOU WOULDN’T BELIEVE, BOYS. I DON’T BELIEVE THERE ARE MANY OF YOU WHO DO KNOW WHAT THAT IS LIKE…”  
Horus: "Father, hold on, I know this is important but, when did the Twins-"  
Angron: “I fucking do! It’s fucking humiliating to not have any power, to be weak and caged and unable to do anything for yourself or others! It’s humiliating to have everyone else free to do as they please while you get to sit back like a dog, treated like a dog and you can’t do shit to fix it! That’s how he feels, mark my words!”  
Horus: "O-okay fine! No one cares the Twins just... materialized into the room! Whatever!"

“What were you thinking?” She began to scold even as she cleaned up the spill.

He wanted to answer, but the pain was enormous, making him feel as if claws were grasping at his muscles. So, instead of an explanation, all that came out of his mouth, was a mewling cry of pain.

“Janan?” Venus asked, turning around and seeing his muscle spasms, gasping and taking off immediately for her brothers' room even as Janan refused to collapse under the assault, hanging on to a nearby countertop even as he grunted, hissed and violently twitched.

Mortarion: *Leans forward* “Interesting…”  
Vulkan: “REALLY.”  
Mortarion: “Yes… mostly because even one of us would crumble up into a little ball from that amount of pain. He’s been feeling that from birth, which would mean his body has grown accustomed to it. For him to be like this, it must be extreme to even an unimaginable amount of pain that even he would feel it… Almost like Roboute’s halfbreed… But different, somehow.”

She returned mere seconds later, plunging a hypodermic needle into her brother's arm, causing him to release a sigh as the pain went away with a flood of warmth.

“You tried going without it too?” She asked him gently, taking a disinfectant pad and wiping away the already healed prick.

He stayed silent, refusing to answer her.

“Oh, Janan… don’t try it, not with this one.”

“Ahm not a baby, Venish!” Frustration bursting forward, angry that she kept doing everything for him. He was supposed to be strong like her! Not a weak, barely walking  _ corpse _ of a boy!

“Janan, I’m not-”

“Ahm tryinh! Ahm tryinh to be strongh but ish not workingh!”

“You know the Apothecaries said you can’t go without the pain drugs Janan.”

“I don’th care! I needh to takeh careh of mysehlf! Howh canh youh evenh lookh at mehh!” He slurred, more tears coming to his eyes that he desperately attempted to suppress even as his self-loathing increased with the slurring tone of his speech thanks to his bent jaw.

Vulkan: *Feels his hearts clench up*  
Angron: “There it is. That’s how he feels. Know it. Accept it.”  
Vulkan: “I don’t like knowing he lives like this.”  
Angron: “There isn’t anything you can do to fix it. So all you can do is accept it. Fucking shit. He’s used to it anyway.”

Venus let him rant at her, it was better he got it out now and not let it stew over the day. “Because I love you, Janan. You’re my little brother, and I just want to help you.” She answered him sincerely taking a rag and wiping away at his face, hoping he wouldn’t take it the wrong way again.

“Don’th…” He slurred out, hoping that she would leave him alone and not do the inevitable.

“No.” And she hugged him, squeezing him tight and letting him cry again.

It was worse, every birthday it got worse. And it all started out as a way of motivating him, the Apothecaries had promised that every birthday it would only get better.

It only got  _ worse _ .

Mortarion: “Age doesn’t mean squat when the mutation is at a cellular level.”

**…**

As was his custom, Janan skipped breakfast, preferring instead to eat some leftovers as he took the power train to the great forges built into Mount Deathfire.

His mother’s meals were delicious, since she was, after all, the greatest chef on the planet even with much more meager rations. But well, he never could shake the feeling of her silently judging him when he wasn’t looking…

Not that it mattered now. He had work to do. He didn’t want to stay home and attend the coming of age ceremony. He didn’t want to be around all the other kids who had brighter, more active futures ahead of them.

He didn’t want them to rub it in his face.

Work was better. Work made sense, work was something he could do. He didn’t have to be around the other kids and teens who weren’t mutants and had ugly faces and didn’t have weird bodies and looked like a failed attempt at life.

As the train rode at record speeds towards Mount Deathfire, his thoughts turned to that of his designs. His plans.

While his body was essentially pathetic, his mind was anything but. It was sharp, sharper than most. His eyes were able to spot even the tiniest of flaws. And while he couldn’t even hold a sword or smithing hammer, he never needed to. He could see and hear the imperfections of an object. There were always his brothers to help him craft his most ingenious of designs and he could always wield a pen to write and draw on a plastek flimsy, as difficult as that was for his mangled arms. His mind and knowledge were the only part of his father that he was actually able to use to his full ability.

Lorgar: “See? He is able to do something, and if what he says is true, he’s quite good at it. I’m glad he’s able to do something that he enjoys.”  
Vulkan: “I agree. I would love to see some of the designs he comes up with, what he can do if he dedicates his time to it!”

The train came to a halt, and he hobbled off. His Power armoured brothers all around him coming to a halt and greeting him in various ways, all with smiles on their faces.

They were all nice to him… it always irked him in the beginning, like they only did it to be polite. He hated politeness. But over time it was wasn’t just a polite thing to do, it was expected and earned.

He had earned his respect, that much he was proud of. As mangled as his body was, his mind served the purpose of overlooking many products from the forges inside this very mountain. All from the improvements to their Terminator designs to the newer and much more efficient power packs and all the way to their newer, more compact, Thunder Hammer models. Finished off by eliminating the flaw of the Redemptor Pattern Dreadnought burning out its host. He swore that when he met who had designed the damn thing he would give him a punch to the gut… if he could. All of this made sure that his brothers would keep the Mechanicus from declaring him a heretek.

Ferrus: *Raises eyebrows* “Impressive.”  
Vulkan: “Most impressive.”  
“He has learned much.”  
“But is he a master yet?”  
Emperor: “HEY. HANDS OFF MY QUIPS.”  
Ferrus: “I know that the Mechanicum can be…” *looks over to Magos Lehm who is grumbling to himself* “...a little overzealous. And the Mechanicus of the future has only degenerated further. I just hope Janan is careful since technology development can be quite tricky and the wrong Machine Spirit can be disastrous.”

Hobbling through two massive adamantium doors, the heat hit him directly into his face while bathing the rest of his body with unnaturally hot temperatures. Luckily for him, his father's genome was Nocturnian enough that he was able to weather the heat with relative ease. One of the rare cases where the genome had not failed him.

He walked along, the cane he used tapping heavily against the ornate stone floor. He had refused a wheelchair. He could walk. Or well, hobble. Anything was better than a damn wheelchair. He couldn’t even use the stairs then. As he walked across the long hall, all around him, hundreds of his brothers and serfs worked at the forges or anvils. All making some of the best weapons in the entirety of the Imperium.

Or what was left of it.

His father, Primarch Vulkan of the Salamanders, the Lord of Drakes, had left some time ago. Citing the need to find Imperium Secundus. A probe stating the existence of it having been found a couple of years prior along with the Navigators declaring the light of a new Astronomicon being present amongst the stars.

Emperor: “LOOKS LIKE WE WILL SEE VULKAN WITH ROBOUTE SOON IF THINGS GO TO PLAN.”  
Rogal: “Father.”  
Emperor: “YES, ROGAL?”  
Rogal: “Aegidius has already implied and spoken of Vulkan being a part of Imperium Secundus. You are being redundant.”  
Emperor: “I AM MERELY SAYING THAT WE WILL PHYSICALLY SEE HIM SOON ROGAL, DAMMIT!”  
Rogal: “But Father. I speak the obvious plenty of times, yet I am smacked for it. You speak the obvious here. I do not wish for you to be smacked, but it is odd that I am punished for something you have just done.”  
Perturabo: “I can smack Father.”  
Emperor: “FUCKING TRY IT, BOY. SEE HOW FAR YOU GET BEFORE I THROW A PLANET AT YOU.”  
Rogal: “You mean, throw Perturabo at a planet. If you were to throw a planet at him now while we are on the Bucephalus, you would not only kill everyone the ship but us as well and destroy the Imperial Flagship.”  
Emperor: “I KNOW WHAT I FUCKING SAID.”

Hope. It was all that kept the dream going. Hope for a better time. Hope for the idea of continued existence. Hope that the grim darkness of the galaxy could possibly have turned.

He huffed. Hope. He had kept hope for so many years that its very concept was appalling to him. What was hope other than a false promise?

Konrad: “He’s not wrong.”  
Horus: “Oh hush already! There is plenty of hope. Like not having a heresy and telling Chaos to go die in a latrine ditch.”  
Konrad: “And hope there has gone ass up. Your point?”  
Horus: “Hush.”

Finally, he reached the throne at the end of the grand hall and carefully climbed the few steps leading to it.

The Salamanders were essentially all equal here. The military hierarchy coming into rule only upon leaving the planet. But nonetheless, the throne was meant for the Great Overseer. The last one to judge the weapon of a neophyte during his trials in his coming of a Space Marine.

And right now. That overseer was him.

Vulkan: “I have no doubt in my mind that he had earned that position by himself.”  
Lorgar: “If what he said about his accomplishments and his work are true, then I would agree.”  
Lion: “At least he isn’t just being a disappointment.”  
Horus: “Brother! That is no way to speak of Vulkan’s son!”  
Lion: “It is the true way. No artifice necessary.”  
Horus: *Sighs*

When his father had given him the position upon his leave, Janan was appalled. Great Overseer? What?! Only a true Salamander, a full Battle Brother of the Chapter could hold the position.

His father then pointed out that technically, he was one already born into the Chapter. Holding most organs and all. But above all, he had the mind of an Overseer. Surpassing even the greatest smiths of the Chapter in terms of his knowledge of the lore and weapon-making, ever retreating to his books whenever he did not know something, or hungrily asking questions.

Again, just because his body was dull, it did not mean his mind was as such.

And yet again, that is what his father had pointed out to him as he gave him such an honour. His older brother Perrin, accompanied their father on his Crusade to Imperium Secundus, giving full trust to Janan. As foolish as Janan thought that was, and as much as he complained about it… he accepted.

He hobbled by the throne, going into the private workshop behind the throne instead.

He thought he was doing an amicable job so far. Or at least, so the other Salamanders had let him know. He knew they thought him too rash and hostile at times… but they were too nice to say anything about it.

Sanguinius: “It is truly astounding of how nice Vulkan’s sons really are.”  
Roboute: “Indeed. Perhaps a tad too much even at times.”  
Sanguinius: “What do you mean by that?”  
Roboute: “All I am saying is that at times, compassion can be a weakness. A weakness that can be exploited. I am not saying that them being kind makes them weak by default. Just that it can backfire if it is used too much.”  
Vulkan: “I understand and am grateful for the criticism my brother. It has a good meaning behind it. Do not worry however, we are careful not to overextend our kindness to our enemies.”  
Roboute: “Not what I meant but at least you get the gist of it.”

He sighed yet again as he sat down upon a supportive chair with a grunt of pain, leaning his cane on the work table even as a rare smile graced his lips.

Finally, he was able to be at his beloved work table, where he could sit comfortably and draw out plans, designs, redesigns and make improvements. The tilted surface perfect for him to reach and comfortable enough to work. How many designs had he already made? Too many he supposed. He gave a huff of laughter at his own weak jest.

All around the room and in sealed reliquaries, his many works were scattered. Those that were not weapons or armour often appeared pointless or even useless in the eyes of some.

To him, each one was a lesson, a lesson learned in pain and humility.

Ferrus: “I’d love to get a closer look at his workshop… I see many projects that he just needs a bit of guidance with.”  
Perturabo: “It is admirable to see that he really does have a grasp on design. If he wasn’t held back by his body, I can see him being a beyond adequate artificer.”  
Vulkan: “Beyond adequate?”  
Perturabo: “Time is needed to be an exceptional one.”  
Rogal: “Smack?”  
Vulkan: “He means well.”  
Rogal: “Perhaps.”

As his body had made him such, he drew the design first. Making sure that each part was thoroughly tested in his mind. Even the smallest servo could error massively upon the smallest miscalculation.

And then he had one of his brothers craft it.

Today. He started work on a new project. His most ambitious project, the one that he would put his entire mind and soul into, a project that he would make sure would be his greatest creation. Too many birthdays had passed with too many disappointments.

Vulkan: “What is he making?”  
Ferrus: “...I’m not sure? Nothing written yet, no plans drawn, so not much information yet.”

Looking around the room briefly he spotted all of his previous attempts at healing himself.

He saw the primitive braces that he attempted to use before he himself realized that most of his bones could never be bent to grow in another way.

Then there were all of the molds he tried to mold his body into using various mutagenics and chirurgeons along with his brother Apothecaries.

Then came the internal modifiers using a heavily modified black carapace to be able to scrap and mold his nerves a different way at the very least.

Mortarion: “Impressive number of tests. But futile.”  
Fulgrim: “I’m getting a  **lot** of Fabius vibes from this…”  
Horus: “The part about desperation? I have seen it drive many people to extraordinary lengths in order to achieve their goals.”  
Fulgrim: “Indeed. But that is not what worries me. What does is that if this does not end well… well then poor Janan will be isolated even more.”  
Ferrus: “Work consumes a man in more ways than one. It makes isolation… preferable.”  
Perturabo: *Grunts, the statement hitting a little too close to home*

And finally… came the smallest little glass of liquified Fulgurite.

Emperor: “OKAY WHERE DID HE GET THAT!?”  
Horus: “From what we have seen of my… heresy, wasn’t Vulkan stabbed with a slab of it in order for him to regain his sanity?”  
Vulkan: “I believe so…?”  
Horus: “Then wouldn’t it be logical that Vulkan would keep it since it was so useful?”  
Emperor: “GOOD POINT.”

Oh, now that one had been a  _ pain _ . A very  _ expensive  _ pain too. That was all the Fulgurite in the known  _ galaxy _ . Thankfully his father had been able to save what those assassins used on him, leaving this precious substance for himself.

Horus: *Looks smug*

Liquifying it had taken years of work with a massive amount of trial and error. Not to mention exploding machinery and decades worth of migraines. Thankfully he was able to take the notes of others and rework it to suit his needs, working through and figuring out how to use it.

He had hoped to use in tactical doses to alter his body on a cellular level.

Mortarion: “Hmm, an interesting, if difficult attempt.”  
Emperor: “NO MORE HMM’S FROM YOU YOUNG MAN. THAT, COMBINED WITH YOUR VOICE AND CHOICE OF COLOR PALLETE, REMINDED ME WAY TOO CLOSELY OF SOMEBODY FROM THE PAST.”  
Mortarion: “Hmm. You’ve been oddly quiet this entire time, old man. Go back to being silent.”  
Emperor: “HOLY SHIT MORTARION. YOU’RE NOSTALGIA TRIPPING ME ALL THE WAY BACK TO THE VERY EARLY THIRD MILLENNIUM.”  
Mortarion: “Hmm.”

He had tried with his arm. And it worked! He had been able to use it and actually enjoy having a strong limb that didn’t scrunch up and could hold his weight! It had been a dream...

Only to revert back to its deformed state in a matter of days…

He would either need to dilute the Fulgurite in something and keep himself constantly submerged in it, which would be essentially impossible due to there being so little of it. Or concentrate the Fulgurite enough that it would last a few years at least. Which  **was** impossible because its own molecular structure prevented him from doing it.

Then, once it was all gone, that was it. He couldn’t waste it to use and enjoy the effects for only a handful of years. He had to be careful and plan out what he was going to do.

Mortarion: “Sufficient idea. If he did not have the primary material in a finite amount.”

He sighed and let his head hit the headrest of his specially designed chair. He needed an idea, something to go from and figure out what he was going to do. He needed inspiration! No inspiration, no work, no ideas, nothing new. Anything could be an inspiration if he just… thinks about it...

Trains? No. Mirror? No. Railings- NO! Something, something, something! Even the most mundane item could be used for inspiration, but what?

He then thought about it, going back to breakfast this morning. The boiling pot, how it was used to cook things submerged in water…

_ Submerged _ .

Wait, yes! Submerged! He  **could** use that...

What else was submerged?

Ferrus: “He isn’t…”  
Fulgrim: “I think he is.”  
Lion: “I mean… It’s a good idea. It would fix a lot of problems.”  
Vulkan: “Oh no.”  
Perturabo: “He just needs to make it as perfect as possible, since he only has so much to work with.”  
Lorgar: “I want to say that someone should stop him… but…”

What else… he took out a datapad and linked it to the noosphere which in turn linked it to the main centralized database.

He flicked through his massive amount of files, each labeled with different chemicals before he found the one he was searching for.

Amniotic fluid.

Ferrus: “Sometimes I hate it when I’m right.”  
Vulkan: “Has anyone ever  **wanted** to be interred?”  
Ferrus: “Well, there are plenty in my legion. But outside of them… not really?”

An interesting thing. With an even more interesting chemical mixture. Designed to preserve far better than anything else. The people put into them without so much as a modicum of preparation could easily survive for millennia.

Technically, he tried it before. His genome overpowered the fluid and healed him, albeit at a far slower rate, but still. It wasn’t practical and took a mass amount in the first place.

But if he tweaked it with something that already delayed his healing factor for sometime…

He quickly did the math in his head and well…

3654561 days until the healing even  _ began _ to manifest…

Over ten millennia…

He did the math again.

Then again.

Then, for the first time in years, he pulled out a cogitator and did the math on it.

Then on a flimsy just to be sure.

Emperor: “AH YES. THE OLD, ‘I’M SO NERVOUS RIGHT NOW I DON’T KNOW WHAT ONE PLUS ONE EQUALS’.”  
Lion: “That’s not a thing.”  
Roboute: “No, that is a thing.”  
Corvus: “It actually is.”  
Lorgar: “Wait what?”  
Magnus: “Yeah, it’s a thing.”  
Lorgar: “How does that happen?”  
Roboute: “Clearly you have never set up an entire logistical network for a crusade. It’s a nightmare. Even for me.”

He felt an unsteady grin spread across his face as he slowly turned to look at the vial of liquidized Fulgurite, sitting in its own tiny reliquary.

He felt a bubble of laughter come up, then it grew as he laughed louder and louder. It was there! How did he not think of this before!? He couldn’t stop the laughter from coming out, it was just… hilarious.

He had a lot of work to do.

Vulkan: “Oh  _ no… _ ”  
Ferrus: “I recognize a phase like that. He isn’t going to stop until circumstances force him to do so. A few months perhaps-”

**...  
M42. 208  
...  
** ****

Ferrus: “Nevermind…”  
Vulkan: “And when you say he isn’t going to stop, do you mean like when we get so into a project that nothing else comes to mind and we keep working until it is done?”  
Ferrus: “Exactly.”  
Vulkan: “ **_Oh... no_ ** .”

Perrin marched into the Grand Hall of Forges and allowed the heat to wash over him, the systems of his Power Armour adjusting as needed even as he took a big whiff of the smell of brimstone, ash, and heated adamantium.

Oh, how he had missed home. The smell of travel and battle was comforting, yes, but there was nothing better than the open pits of magma, brimstone, and metalworking.

The journey to Imperium Secundus was… less than stellar. His father really hadn’t been happy with the idea that his uncle made a peace treaty with the Eldar. Hell, he could remember how many raids there have been on Nocturne during his childhood by the damned sweat goblins since  **apparently** there was a difference between them, the stuck up ones, the clowns and the smelly ones and then there were the extremely edgy ones who liked to write poetry about death and wear spikes everywhere...

Jaghatai: *Grunts in approval*  
Magnus: “Of course there are differences! Most of you just don’t want to entertain the idea of learning them!”  
Roboute: “He looks like he’s taking it well, brother.”  
Vulkan: “I apologize in advance.”  
Roboute: “Why?”  
Vulkan: “Just watch. I know my future self.”

He even carried a scar over his left eye from when one of those damned knife eared assholes tried to kill him. Emphasis on  **tried** . He ripped the things head clean off with his bare hands. He had been three. Ah… good times.

Angron: “Good kid.”  
Vulkan: “I am very proud of him.”  
Jaghatai: “I would be too.”  
Mortarion: “Hmm. Better than the other one.”  
Emperor: *Violent eye twitch*  
Vulkan: “...and you ruined it.”

After traveling for so long and going through or by so many warp storms, they finally came to Macragge and now he had to be… nice to the damned knife ears. Even have to accept that he has a half… _half breed_ **_cousin_**. Spoiled little shit, running away from home and making everyone panic. It made him **sick**.

Roboute: “WAIT WHAT. What happened to Aegidius!? When!? How!? Why!? GIVE ME ANSWERS YOU DAMNED VID!”  
Konrad: *Muttering under his breath* “Just had to mention the damned half breed just as things got nice and quiet…”  
Roboute: “Why would he try to run away from home!? Surely everything is fine, he shouldn’t feel the need or want to run away-”  
Magnus: “R-Roboute, please calm down. We are here to watch Vulkan’s child-”  
Roboute: “-But what if he was taken and Perrin is just taking it as him running away? Maybe… I’m trying to figure this out and see why he would do this and I can’t-”  
Konrad: “GAH! I swear, if I ever have to deal with someone who talks like you on a daily basis I will gladly flay myself for hours, or take a bolt to the face!”  
Sanguinius: *Starts grinning at Konrad*

Thankfully, he was able to avoid the halfbreed but not his other cousins. The little wolf and the little bat. They weren’t so bad. They were actually enjoyable. But after getting those reports, it was imperative they returned home for the coming battle. He liked Macragge, but it was soured and he was beyond thankful to be home.

Leman: “I know the little wolf is Freya, since well. Space wolf. I just hope she learned to not run around naked…”  
Konrad: “NO.”  
Magnus: “Brother. What  **ever** is making you say that?”  
Konrad: “Shut the fuck  **UP,** Magnus.”  
Emperor: “HOLY SHIT KONRAD, CALM DOWN.”  
Konrad: “It’s not real. It’s not happening. Shut up.”  
Horus: “We might be taking the hints in too many broad strokes…”  
Vulkan: “I mean… We know Konrad is alive, but maybe it’s someone else’s?”  
Sanguinius: “I DON’T CARE! Let’s just watch!”

But despite it all, there was one he had missed even more.

Uncle Dorn had even given them a couple of housecarls and an entire company of his Imperial Fists to help fortify the planet. That was very kind of him, father made sure to hug his uncle extra hard for that. Uncle Rogal didn’t even seem to mind.

Perturabo: “OH FOR FUCKS SAKE… You’re  _ still alive… _ ”  
Rogal: “...yey. Existence. I am happy to know that in the future, I. Am still. Me.”  
Roboute: “Hold on, I’m confused. Rogal hasn’t even shown up yet! I know this takes place a few years later from where we left off, but still.”  
Angron: “Maybe whoever sent this grox pile of tapes forgot to cut out that part- OUCH! MY FUCKING HEAD!”  
Emperor: “TOO META…”  
Lorgar: “I mean… Are the tapes edited? I know that a couple we watched does have splices…”  
Maybe Omegon: “You don’t question.”  
Perhaps Alpharius: “A magical chest of sorcery.”  
Definitely Omepharius: “That spews vids at random.”  
Alpharius… or is it?: “But are surprised by the fact.”  
Omegon… for sure: “That they might be edited.”  
Lorgar: “Alright, the both of you need to sit down!”

Immediately he began walking across the Grand Hall, intent for the workshop behind the throne.

As soon as he and his father had landed they had been caught up on any missed events and immediately directed towards where the defences for the incoming attack were being prepared. The Librarians had picked up signs of turmoil from the warp, with images of possible attacks of their home. The star of the Thousand Sons was burning brightly in hatred for the Salamanders, and no one knew why.

Magnus: Wait hold on why, why are my sons going after Nocturne of all places!? No offense, Vulkan.”  
Vulkan: “I’m too busy being offended that your sons are going to attack my home while my wife and children are there you red-skinned asshole!”  
Emperor: “HOLY SHIT VULKAN, NOW YOU’RE GOING THERE.”  
Jaghatai: *Writing something down while nodding approvingly*  
Magnus: “I don’t know why they are going to attack Nocturne, Vulkan! I’m just as surprised as you are! I have no idea why they chose you specifically!”  
Roboute: “Perhaps Nocturne is isolated? Therefore making it a target worth pillaging? Vulkan’s sons are legendary smiths and artificers. The bounty would be essentially priceless.  
Magnus: “Normally I’d agree with you, but you forget. This is a  **known** Legion Homeworld! Even with Imperium Secundus in effect and after the events of everything so far, going after a Legion Homeworld while their Primarch is known to be back is  **absolute suicide** ! Even if it is for a plan of the squid, this makes  **no gods damned sense!** ”  
Vulkan: “Unless of course a certain book weakened your legion and whittled it down into  _ chapters _ .”  
Roboute: “Will you stop harping on that!?”  
Leman: “Spehs book says this bad.”  
Roboute: *Sighs* “That’s a no then...”  
Magnus: “Will someone address my point!?”  
Angron: “Revenge, you big idiot of a nerd.”  
Magnus: “For WHAT!?”  
Angron: “Doesn’t fucking matter does it? That’s the only thing which gets future you to reunite with your sons and attack everything. As evidenced by your trying to destroy Russ’ wolves  _ twice _ by attacking their homeworld.”  
Leman: “And getting yer spine broken yet again!”  
Magnus: “I… Okay fine. Revenge. But I really want to know what it is that Vulkan did to cause my sons to seek revenge on him. If it even is revenge.”  
Angron: “If it fucking isn’t, I will cave in my own head by ripping these nails clean off.”

But perhaps even more worrying than the reports of the possible assault were the reports of his younger brother.

He had not left his private workshop in  _ years _ . Even eating and sleeping in it, coming out only to do his duty as Great Overseer.

Vulkan: “ _ Hmm _ .”  
Emperor: “NOT YOU TOO!”

As for Perrin... Well, he hadn’t seen his brother in eight years! Talk about a long time of not seeing your little brother! He was tempted to see his mother and sister but thought it prudent to see Janan first and inform them after. Better to go in with some ammo than without.

From what he had heard from the Apothecaries. He was growing as well as he could be, despite him staying for the most part in his deformed body.

Nodding to his battle brothers and passing the countless serfs in the middle of their work, he marched past the throne and into the workshop behind, the smell of unwashed hair and skin reaching his transhuman senses. It was going to be one of those days, wasn’t it?

“Hello, baby brother.” Perrin grinned as he made his way into the workshop, causing a groaning Janan to shift in his work table. “It’s been eight years, and almost as long as that from how long you’ve been away from home too.”

Janan let out a huff, scribbling something on his work table. “Eighph yearsth? Ah can’sh really rememberth… Ishn’t it 206?”

Ferrus: “Well then… he went deep.”  
Vulkan: “...I have done the same.”  
Ferrus: “We both have.”

“No, more of 208. Honestly, have you really been in here for so long you forgot the year?” Perrin corrected, looking around at the work room. The walls were covered in designs, diagrams, notes, all manners of written pieces that seemed to go together. Perhaps? “You know, home actually has a bed.”

“Ah hash a bed.” Janan pointed his pen towards a makeshift bed that was unkempt and looked like a place he could flop over on and off of.

“Right. And the food?”

“Venish brings me food,” Janan replied, continuing to work.

At this point, Perrin had enough. He could see just fine in this light, but the darkness was getting annoying. “Alright. That’s it. I’m opening the curtains.”

Emperor: “OH. HERE IT COMES.”

“PERRINH NO!”

“Perrin yes!” And then, he reached for the curtain, moving to reveal the bright light of the lava flows, making his younger brother screech at the light.

Fulgrim: “Sounds like the time I opened the curtains on Konrad. He made the same sound.”  
Konrad: *Hissing*

“BRISH! BRIIIIIISH!”

Janan fell from his chair to escape the light. “Come now, it’s not so bad! A little light won’t kill you, brother.”

“Genthle brotherh! Be genthle-”

Perrin simply continued to open the curtains, one by one and continue to cause his brother to screech at him from the horrible bright light.

Fulgrim: “Yup. Exactly like Konrad.”

“Yoph betrath me brotherh.” Janan muttered from the floor, using his robes to cover his head from the terrible light. Perrin only chuckled at him. “Yoph so mean…”

“Mean? I’d do this for any other brother.” Perrin answered, standing over his brother. “Now come on, stand up. I know you can. A little light isn’t killing you, so don’t even try to complain.”

Lion: “Now that’s better. Can’t stand the idea of anyone coddling him.”  
Vulkan: “As much as I do not like your tone, brother, I agree that it is best for the situation.”

Janan humphed at his brother, sitting up with great difficulty. “Ah shuposh yourh righth…” He sat up with great difficulty, making sure to pick up little things that had fallen with him. “Ish good to shee yoph brotherh.”

Perrin removed the part of his brother’s robe that covered his head, revealing the pale skin and too-long hair that obscured his brother's face. “Now, it’s good to see you. A little light would go a long way to making you look and feel better, brother.”

Sanguinius: “Time has not been good to him…”  
Vulkan: *Glares at Sanguinius*  
Sanguinius: “...shutting up.”

“Nowh yoph are beingh mean.” Janan moved back to his chair, going back to his work and having to rub at his eyes. The extra light was making his pupils contract, his vision would have to adjust before he could continue. “Buth ish good yoph are hereh.”

“Oh? How so? Do you need me to deliver news? Maybe tell mother and Venus you’re not dead? Be your scapegoat?” Perrin jested, chuckling at the idea.

“Turnh aroundh.”

“Pardon?”

Janan turned around in his seat, the seat swiveling in place. “Turnh aroundh and witnish my greatisht creashun!” He proclaimed with his arms wide open as if unveiling a masterwork.

Perrin turned around, only seeing the massive wall, the fallen curtains over something big and… “Oh. You killed the canid again.”

Vulkan: “Do not kill the canid! They are meant for companionship and love!”  
Leman: “I agree. But wolves are better.”  
Emperor: “CANIDS CAME FROM WOLVES, LEMAN.”  
Leman: “I know tha’! Ah’m jus’ sayin’ ah like wolves.”

A sputtering behind him. “No! Ah didnh kill dah canid!” Said family canid, was currently on the floor submerged in a type of glass container, full of a bluish, clear, fluid floating aimlessly. There were tubes connected to the bubble-like container, leading to another container to the side. “Hesh fine, jush a liddle… Shleepy.”

“How long has he been sleeping for, then?”

“Ah… Ah year…? Nosh impotanh!” He waved to the curtains, “da canid wash onlyh the tesh! Yoph wouldh hash sheen ith if you hadnth meshed wish my curtainsh!”

Sanguinius: “Actually, can we go back to the canid?”  
Horus: “I don’t think we will.”  
Konrad: “Don’t count on it.”

“Right.” Perrin moved to remove the curtain, revealing the massive creation and the notes suddenly began to make sense. All of it was connected to the main idea written on the wall, the diagrams, everything was connected. “What… What did you do?”

“Ah made a new bodyh.”

In front of them, towering even far above Perrin was the unmistakable form of a massive Dreadnought. But… it was different. Big even for its type… “Looks like you based it on a Redemptor..” Perrin murmured as he approached to admire the handiwork better.

Ferrus: “Holy… that is the biggest Dreadnought…”  
Lorgar: “Well… he went for it.”  
Angron: “Looks more like a Knight.”  
Vulkan: “Not tall enough… but much bigger still. And more elegant.”  
Fulgrim: “A masterwork.”

“Betterh dan da Redemphder! Ih burnsh outh too quishly, I madeh ith better. It ish da besth Dreadnash in the entireh Impeerium!” Janan quickly answered, pointing out parts of the design that he improved and parts that he changed out.

Ferrus: “I don’t think he’s overestimating that…”

“Heavily modified Amniotic Sarcophagus with…  _ a lot _ of neural implants, different fusion reac-  _ your _ fusion reactor.” Perrin ran his armoured hands along the intricately designed fingers of the Dreadnought, no bigger than his own Power Armoured ones. “Intricately modulated fingers with fully movable joints and… ah, that’s why you need the extra sensor nodes for, you can feel.” He turned to see his smiling brother. “You added a damned black carapace, I don’t even want to know how long that took.”

Mortarion: “What… a full neural interface at that level…”  
Ferrus: “That is one… very beautiful Dreadnought.”  
Perturabo: *Merely nodding along*  
Vulkan: “I… I am so proud of him.”

Janan shrugged, “ah losh of time. I’m moreh proudh osh the fluidh. Dat’s whereh da canid comesh in.”

Sanguinius: “He… He’s going to let it out, right?”

“Ah, our father's son eh?” Janan asked in a joking tone as he spotted the absolutely massive attachable power fists that hung to each side of the Dreadnought. “With a built-in heavy flamer and… is that  _ Volkite?! _ Where by all the drakes did you get that!?”

Vulkan: “WHERE DID YOU GET THAT, BOY? ANSWER YOUR BROTHER.”

He at least had the sense to look embarrassed at this. “Ah… Ah mighth haveh taken ish from fathersh collecshun…”

Vulkan: *Deep breath* “As long as it will be used properly…”  
Konrad: “You look pretty mad. Are you mad Vulkan?”  
Vulkan: “I am not mad, I just wished he asked.”  
Roboute: “To be fair. You were essentially unreachable.”

“Of course.” Perrin sighed, deciding to deal with that later. “Tell me more about the fluid, what makes it so different?”

“The Fulgwiteh.” He spoke it so simply, like it was obvious.

“At least you asked father before about tha- wait WHAT?” He whipped his head around to his brother, who didn’t look the least bit sorry about swiping something that important and valuable. “You merged the liquidized Fulgurite with the Amniotic fluid? Why and how long did  _ that _ take!?”

Mortarion: “Holy shit, what?”

“Thath wash da longisht part. Shank youh canid.” The canid responded by floating aimlessly in the bubble of fluid, “Ish wash a shtroke of geniush! Da Fulgwiteh shtops the healingh and…” He pointed to the canid again, “ah made a liddle hole on hish leg. Monsh ago! Shtill hashnt healed. Shorry canid.” Again, the canid responded by floating there, essentially frozen in time.

Vulkan: “Leave the canid alone!”

“Janan… Do you  _ actually _ intend to put yourself in that? A  _ willing _ entombment?”

Janan nodded as he took a sealed bottle and began to drink from it in front of Perrin, who sniffed the air and made him recoil slightly. “Are… Are you drinking the amniotic fluid!?”

“Yesh.”

“Why!?”

“Ahm gettigh readyh! If my bodyh ish ushed to ith, I canh imtomb a lot eashier!” He shrugged, “Ah won’t even need to shleep! Thanksh to the fluid am drinkigh and my genomh, ish possible! Anh whileh the canid shleps, causeh of my genomeh, I wonth! Anh proven! Shanks Canid.” He continued to float there.

Perrin looks at the canid, then leaned towards his brother. “I think it’s dead.”

Vulkan: “It better not. But if what Janan says is true, then I am glad he has made something worthwhile to help him.”  
Emperor: “THEORETICALLY. TAKING THE PERPETUAL GENOME INTO THAT CONTEXT… HE JUST MIGHT HAVE.”

“No ish noth! Look.” He turned around and pressed a rune on the control panel for the bubble, watching as how the fluid was drained from the canid’s bubble and into a separate container. Quickly, the canid sat up and backed away silently from the bubble, looking as new and healthy as before. “Shee? Hesh fine.”

Vulkan: “Good.”  
Konrad: “Why are you so concerned about a stupid canid?”  
Emperor: “I’M JUST GOING TO STOP YOU RIGHT THERE, AND JUST SAY THAT CANIDS HAVE ALWAYS BEEN MAN’S BEST FRIEND. FOR OUR ENTIRE EXISTENCE. THERE WILL BE NO CANID DISRESPECT IN THIS HOUSE, YOUNG MAN.”  
Rogal: “Father. We are in the Bucephalus-”  
Emperor: “DAMMIT ROGAL-”  
Rogal: “-and not a house.”

Perrin wondered how long the canid had actually been in there. “I just…” Perrin began, stuttering before he looked back towards the massive Dreadnought. It was extremely well made he had to confess, especially now that he looked at the legs and saw that Janan had also managed to somehow upgrade those. “Are you sure? Are you  _ really _ sure Janan? We can always have the Apothecaries try mor-”

“NO!” Janan shouted immediately, “Ah’ve had ENOUPH!” His face suddenly skewed with rage as he just imagined what Perrin said, more waiting and more time and more pain and MORE! “Two decashs! Two! Ah donh wanh to waish anymore! Ah’m gonna fish ith myshelf! Ah’m doneh waitingh!”

Roboute: “Wow, that came out of nowhere.”  
Angron: “Really? Fucking really? If you think this came out of nowhere, you’re even denser than I remember! The fucking kid has been given a shit hand in a shit life! Maybe if you came down from your high riding and mighty chair you’d actually understand how he feels you blueberry fucking muffin!”  
Jaghatai: “Angron is right. But considering Roboute’s current worry with Aegidius on his mind, I’m not surprised that he let it slip past.”  
Angron: “Even you’re on my side-”  
Jaghatai: “Of course that doesn’t excuse the mass amount of self-pity spewing from you like grox manure at the moment.”  
Emperor: “...NO COMMENT.”

Perrin held up his hands in defense, knowing how his brother felt in a way. He waited and toiled for two decades, now he finally had the chance to escape his cursed body. Could he really blame him for choosing something that others considered a curse?

“I can’t be the one to give you my blessing to go forth with this Janan.” Perrin reminded his brother in a gentle tone. “Only father can.”

Janan calmed down slowly, deep angry breaths through his nose, almost like a simmering grox held in place forcefully. “Ah knowh… Ah knowh… Ahm shorry.”

Perrin reached out and hugged Janan to him, being very careful not to crush his brother's head on his armoured chest. “There is nothing to forgive baby brother.” He spoke even as he thought about how they were going to explain this one to their father?

**...**

His youngest child was always on Vulkan’s mind. He was so weak, fragile, needing more attention than a regular child. From being born small, to his bones mutating, to everything about Janan being… Janan.

So when Vulkan was summoned by his youngest, he immediately left to meet with him. It wasn’t every day that he could be there for Janan, and it had been eight years since he was home...

Just seeing his beloved wife, Kai, was already enough to welcome him home properly!

With how urgent Janan sounded, along with Perrin imploring him to go, it must be important.

Striding into the Great Hall of forges in Mount Deathfire was truly his coming home. He had spent more time here on Nocturne than anywhere else, crafting the finest and deadliest of weapons.

And so had apparently his youngest. Venus had explained to him about how he hadn’t even come home in  _ years _ ! What was he thinking? Did he think that his mother did not love him so much?

Quickly walking across the Hall in his massive Terminator armour and ignoring most of the greetings given to him by his genesons, he walked directly for the elevated throne, seeing Perrin standing there, no doubt waiting for him.

Ah, Perrin. He was so proud of him! Born with most of the organs he only had a little amount of indoctrination to go through along with the surgeries passing quickly. His skill on the battlefield was quickly on the rise, even if he was just an average-sized marine, his reaction time was far quicker. Time was all he needed, positive his eldest would forge his own legend, even without his father attached to him and his accomplishments. Vulkan couldn’t be a prouder father!

Lion: “Clearly the better of the two.”  
Ferrus: “Not necessarily for much longer.”  
Vulkan: “I have three children.”  
Lion: “And from what we have seen, one is basically useless for combat. And I’m not talking about the mutant.”

It was truly a shame that he and Kai would no longer have any more children. Since the last two tries had… not succeeded. They had decided to stop trying to expand their family and pour all of their love on their current living children.

“Father.” Perrin nodded to him, a small smile playing on his lips. “Janan is inside. I would enter with you, but… He wants to explain it himself.”

Vulkan felt his eyebrows rise in shock. “Are you sure? Janan wants to see  _ only _ me?”

A nod, “Yes. He wants to explain it himself.”

“Explain? Explain what? Why he has not been home in all these years?” Vulkan spoke in a stricter tone, or at least, an attempted one. He could never truly be angry at his children, no matter how hard he tried.

“Well…” He trailed off, it kinda was? It kinda wasn’t? He just hoped Janan let the canid out before their father came in. “A little of yes and no. Just… Just hear him out. It’s his best work yet, and he’s excited to show it to you and gain your approval.” Perrin supplied, hoping their father would listen to his baby brother.

“His best work? So he has been working on something all this time?”

“Oh, you have no idea dad…” Perrin stepped aside to let his father pass by. When his father entered, he saw that, no. No, the canid was still there. He just hoped Janan could plead his case...

Inside, Vulkan passed the threshold of the workshop, the place a mess as he immediately came face to face with his youngest. He didn’t look very different from last he saw him, which wasn’t a good sign at all. He did pass by the family canid, floating in a fluid without much care. How many times has he told Janan to leave him alone and not experiment on the canid!?

Vulkan: “He’s back? Janan! I am disappointed!”  
Sanguinius: “With how nonchalant the canid is, this must happen a lot…”  
Vulkan: “Noooo…”

“Dadh.” Janan greeted him with a nervous smile.

Vulkan gave his son a smile and a generous pat on his shoulder. “It is good to see you, Janan! Your brother has told me you wish to show me something. I would think you would explain why you have not been home in years.” He finished with a slightly stern tone in his voice.

“Wellh uhg I… justh… justh turnh aroundh.” He had a desperate look in his eyes. “I willh answerh anhy questionh.”

He did and had to pause as his Primarch mind took in the notes, the diagrams, the chassis, the fluid… Within seconds, he was putting together a picture in his mind that he wasn’t sure how to feel about. “Ah. So this is what you have been working on.”

“Yesh. My greatsht workh.” Janan stated confidently, despite his wavering tone.

“I can see that.” Vulkan nodded, working out why his son would make something like this. He already knew why, but hoped it wouldn’t be so. “And you intend to…?”

“Go thwough wit it, yesh.” Janan spoke in a determined tone, making his decision all the more obvious. “I didh the testh, they all workhed.”

Vulkan: “Oh nooo…”

Vulkan watched the family canid floating in a container nearby, if it was alive, despite him telling Janan to leave the poor creature alone and to stop killing it, then perhaps his son was onto something. “You’re positive that you have completely worked it out?”

“Yesh, lookh!” Janen hobbled over to his work table and scooped up  _ a lot _ of plastek flimsies before hobling back to Vulkan and handing them to his father. “Eveyrh factor!” He then hobbled over to some diagrams hanging on the wall, desperately pointing at them. “Fifthy sixth prototypsh!” He hobbled over to the Dreadnought itself, running an almost loving twisted arm across its chassis. “And theh finalh product!”

Ferrus: “Those plans are… incredibly well tested.”  
Perturabo: “He has to be thorough, he only has one chance to get it right on launch.”

Vulkan looked through the flimsies, read all the notes, absorbed all of the diagrams, went over the numbers. Janan really did think of many, if not all possibilities. He knew if this was anyone else proposing this idea, he would have gone along with it… But this was his youngest. “Are you positive that it is made from the best materials, perfectly crafted and approved?”

“YESH DADH!” Janan swung around so violently that he would have fallen had Vulkan not reached over and stopped him from doing so. “I TRIEDH DADH! I DIDH I TRIEDH EVERYHTHINGH! I- I-” Tears started coming to Janan’s eyes as with increasing desperation he attempted to explain his situation to his father. “NOSHING BUTH PAINH DAADH NUFINH BUT PAINH!” He cried, his nose becoming runny as well, causing Vulkan to reach for a nearby rag, cleaning his son’s face much like Venus did many times before.

“I know…” Vulkan answered, cleaning his son’s face. He hoped time would help him, but if it hadn’t this far, then it probably wouldn’t anytime soon, or at all. Did he make the right decision? To ultimately have his son intomb himself into his own creation, just so he could live his life?

Vulkan: “...I don’t know if I did make the right choice. But I am happy to see that he was able to do something great. So maybe I did make the right choice?”  
Emperor: “DON’T GO DOWN THAT ROAD, VULKAN. THE WHAT IF GAME IS A LONG ONE AND WILL NEVER END.”

All these years were just pain for his son. But they were also years of brilliance, years of dedication and years of designing and creation. He was proud of him, even if at times he wondered if it was morally right to keep him going despite all the pain he lived through.

“I’m not saying no, Janan.” Vulkan answered his son after cleaning his face. “I’m just wanting to make sure everything will be safe for you. I don’t want your creation to have a single mistake, I want you to be sure everything is perfect.”

“Is betterh thenh dis.” Janan pointed up and down his pathetic body with his gnarled arms, the tears slowly stopping.

He hugged his son, careful to not hurt him like others he may have accidentally hurt with his hugs. “Then I will support you.”

“Dadh…” Janan gasped as he desperately attempted to reach around his father's massive waist. “Dadh…” He cried again. “Thankh you… thank youh…”

Fulgrim: “I do believe we might just be witnesses to the rebirth of the century.”  
Konrad: “Or one hell of a death.”  
Mortarion: “No.”  
Vulkan: “Pardon?”  
Mortarion: “By my calculations and experiments written down, especially the ones I can see from here... There is a good chance of him surviving.  _ Very _ good. He has been preparing both physically and mentally for the entombment. That, combined with all of his other preparations and the quality of the Dreadnought itself… the chances are high that he succeeds.”  
Vulkan: “I would hug you if you would allow it, brother. Thank you.”  
Mortarion: “I won’t. And don’t, it’s just a fact of deduction.”

“Anything for you, my son.” He held him tight, not knowing if he would get the chance to do so again. “I will be here when you awake.” He tried to hug him harder to no avail even as he felt a tear of his own slip out of an eye. “How long will it take you?”

“A fewh… fewh weeksh…”

Vulkan nodded, knowing he had a few weeks to spend with his son before it was over. “Then you will come home and see your mother, your sister and enjoy your time outside.”

Janan let out a sad chuckle even as he accepted his fate, thankful that all would soon be over.

“And make sure you let out little Noodles over there. Stop experimenting on the canid!”

“Ohhh…” Janan groaned, hesitantly pressing the rune on the control panel for the bubble. Not wanting to explain how this was Noodles number four… He didn’t think his father would be able to tell the difference, much less mother and Venus...

Vulkan: “What!? SON!? NO!”  
Emperor: “WELL THEN…”

“Is there something different about Noodles?”

“Noshing!”

**_...  
_ 209.M42 _\- Weeks later  
_** **_..._ **

Janan and Vulkan stood and watched as the very many cables were plugged into the Dreadnought.

Janan was already inside of the sarcophagus. The procedure went rather well, despite it taking multiple days of carefully removing body parts and bone structures and then untangling the organs from each other, all the while doing it even as Janan was sedated and submerged in his custom made Amniotic fluid.

It was an extremely dangerous procedure. If his heart slowed, if his blood stopped pumping or if he hitched a breath for even a second. Janan would die. That was the nature of the fluid he had made.

Vulkan swore that he never saw the Apothecaries move with such tender care in their entire lives…

Vulkan: “Pull through Janan. You can do it…”  
Horus: “I am sure he can.”  
Konrad: “I-”  
Sanguinius: “Don’t you  _ dare _ Konrad.”

But now came the moment of truth. All of the programs Janan had written were being uploaded into the Dreadnought even as his conscience was assimilating with the Machine Spirit.

No one was taking any chances. The Dreadnought itself had been sanctified hundreds of times over by the finest of the Chapters techmarines and the Master of the Forge himself overseeing the rituals.

Magos Lehm: *Is muttering incantations himself*  
Vulkan: “I thank you, kind Magos.”

But despite all of their preparations, all of their care… something was wrong…

Janan, or rather, his new body, refused to boot up.

And Vulkan was getting increasingly worried…

Vulkan: “Janan! Is he- no, please… no…”  
Ferrus: “The integration system must have failed.”  
Horus: “How bad is that?”  
Ferrus: “Depends.”  
Vulkan: “Depends on what?”  
Ferrus: “On exactly how well Janan programmed the Dreadnought’s systems.”  
Horus: “Let us hope he has done enough. Whatever it was, I am sure it was his best.”

“My lord.” A Salamander begged him again. “You must come to the strategium! The Thousand Sons have transitioned in the system.”

Vulkan held up a hand. “I will stay until my son awakens once more. I have promised.”

And so they waited. For another whole perilous hour of the techmarines running around, checking all systems and trying everything and anything to get Janan’s new body running.

Mortarion: “An hour to get a Dreadnought fully running? Un-optimal.”  
Vulkan: “Mortarion please-”  
Mortarion: “But not surprising. Every single part of the Dreadnought is custom made and then artificed. Nothing about will be standard. Especially the code.”

And Vulkan stayed. He stayed until he heard the fires of battle begin to rage in the far distance…

“My lord, I beseech you!” Another Salamander begged as he had been sent by the outer villages. The sorcerers were advancing. And they were advancing fast, burning and destroying everything in their wake.

And Vulkan couldn’t take that…

“I am sorry Janan…” He whispered even as he turned and ran.

Vulkan: “Son… forgive me…”

**…**

**++SYSTEM DELAY: DETECTED++**

**++BOOTING INPUT OUTPUT SYSTEM++**

**++ERROR: RESETTING TO BACKUP CODE 3251++**

**++RESET: SUCCESSFUL++**

**++BOOTING SYSTEM++**

**++BRINGING USER ONLINE++**

**++AWAKENING MUSCLE FIBERS++**

**++RUNNING CONTAINMENT SYSTEMS++**

**++LIFE SUPPORT: ONLINE++**

Janan blinked. Or rather, he did the mechanical equivalent of blinking.

Vulkan: “He’s alive! Oh… thank the throne…”

Everything was kind of blurry, like he was asleep for a long time.

He must be in his room. No doubt Venus would be up in no time to wake him.

Wait… he couldn’t move…

**++USER SCAN COMPLETE: INTEGRATION… 92.3% COMPLETE++**

Oh… how did he forget that? Wow… wait… there was something missing… nothing hurt anymore… this was normal life?

**++SENSES ONLINE++**

And just like that, he could feel.

He felt the gentle warmth of Mount Deathfires lava which was… exactly 134 meters away. He heard everything, the panicking of some of his brothers as clearly as if it were with his own ears.

And then he saw them- oh wow! Did he seriously make himself this tall!? Kind of unnecessary now that he thought about it.

Ferrus: “His sensors appear to be operating as well as they possibly can… impressive.”

His brothers really did look worried though…

**++VOXCASTERS ONLINE++**

Really? Well, might as well try- “Brothers.”

The sound of his own voice startled him. So deep and rich and- “Holy- I don’t stutter anymore! The stupid jaw is gone!” He proclaimed happily even as the techmarines stared up at him with apparent awe.

“Brother Janan! How do you feel? Is everything online? Can you move?” A nearby Techmarine asked, quickly working to make sure the youngest son of their Primarch was fine and able to be deployed as soon as possible.

“I am fine… still bringing things up, but it will be fine. In fact, I feel awesome!”

**++PRIMARY SERVOS ONLINE++**

**++SECONDARY SERVOS ONLINE++**

**++TERTIARY SERVOS ONLINE++**

Ferrus: “Three servos systems? Wow… and I thought the weapons were overkill…”  
Vulkan: “He has given himself the control and fine motor skills denied to him by his genetic body… I am so proud…”  
Perturabo: “Not bad. Not bad at all.”  
Lehm: “By the Omnissiah… He is truly blessed…”

He instinctively waved his massive arms in the air, smashing some rock and causing dust to fall down onto him.

“Oh, guess I do not know my own height heh…” He looked around the room, pleased that everything looked as well and sharp as if he was using his own two original eyes. “Well, no time like the present to try this.” He reached out a leg, and the Dreadnought obeyed instantly, causing the leg to raise itself before gently coming down again. Then he did it with the other. And then the other. And then the other… “I can… I can walk!” He swiftly marched around the room, enjoying actually being capable of moving freely and without much effort by himself for the first time in his life, all the while being careful not to crush his brothers.

Corvus: “I… don’t think I have ever seen a Dreadnought move so… smoothly.”  
Ferrus: *Nodding his head in approval* “The servos are complete and utter masterworks.”  
Emperor: “YOUR SON HAS OUTDONE HIMSELF VULKAN.”  
Vulkan: *Pushing back tears* “I am so proud of him…”

“Brother Janan, while I am ecstatic that you are able and willing to move, it is imperative you get a grasp on your new body as soon as possible! The entirety of Nocturne is currently under attack by not just Thousand Sons, but parts of the Black Legion and elements of the Dark Mechanicum!” The same Tech Marine quickly spoke, hoping his young brother could fully integrate himself.

Vulkan: “Thousand Sons, the Black Legion, and the Dark Mechanicum all at once?”  
Magnus: “It sounds like it is more than just revenge. All three working together…” *shudders*

Janan stopped his pacing and looked down at his brother before looking at the rack where he had been mere moments ago.

“So you say…” He rumbled.

**++WEAPON INTEGRATION SYSTEMS: ONLINE++**

He strode over to the rack, and just to test it, took a nearby Bolter rifle from a rack. In his previous form he couldn’t even lift one, now it was tiny compared to him.

Using his senses along with the new mechanical fingers he took it completely apart in a matter of seconds before putting it back together, cocking the bolt and firing off a shot where it harmlessly hit the wall and detonated.

“My hands are excellent...” He praised his own work, now gazing at the massive power fist gauntlets hanging off of the rack which he had designed for himself.

Ferrus: “That’s an understatement if I ever heard and saw it.”  
Emperor: “I HAVE NOT SEEN SUCH EXCELLENT WORK SINCE THE DARK AGE…”  
Lion: “Hmm. What of his weapons?”  
Horus: “I have a feeling that we are about to see.”

He stomped over and slid his hands into them…

**++SONG OF NOCTURNE: SYNCHED++**

**++PROMETHIUM RESERVE: 100%++**

**++BANE OF ARMOUR: SYNCHED++**

**++VULKITE RESERVE: 100%++**

**++GAUNTLETS OF VINDICTION: SYNCHED++**

**++WEAPON SYSTEMS: ACTIVATED++**

Rogal: *Raises eyebrows* “A very good assortment.”  
Ferrus: *Almost drooling* “You don’t say…”  
Fulgrim: “Are you alright?”  
Ferrus: “Yes. It’s just so beautiful.”

“Brother, how much longer will this take? We are needed in the defense!” Another Techmarine urgently spoke. Every moment they spent here, was another moment they could be defending their home.

“As long as it takes.” The first answered.

“No.” Rumbled out Janan. “I am ready.” He turned with his massive form, looking down at his brothers. “Let us kill some traitors.”

The vid cut to black.

The family sat there for a minute or two, stunned into complete and utter silence.

“NEVER UNDERESTIMATE THE POWER OF A DETERMINED INVENTOR.” The Emperor finally spoke. “I HAVE SEEN THEM MOVE QUITE LITERALLY MOUNTAINS OUT OF PURE FRUSTRATION. WITH ENOUGH TIME AND DEDICATION, ALMOST ANYTHING IS POSSIBLE. A DOUBLE EDGED SWORD OF HUMANITY, I’LL ADMIT.”

“Kid did good, I have to admit.” Angron bit out with a feral smile. “I can’t wait to see him rip something apart.”

“Here here!” Russ sounded off. “Going into one of those things willingly… aye, now that takes guts.”

“Mortarion?” Vulkan suddenly asked, turning to face his brother and wiping his tears away with a handkerchief. “Do you still stand by your words?”

Mortarion rolled his eyes even as his rebreather let out a long, agitated, sigh. “Yes, brother. I was  _ wrong _ . I never once claimed to be an expert on the possibility of Primechildren, even if all of you keep looking to me for guidance. You happy?”

Vulkan’s smile brightened the room. “Yes. Yes, I am. For him.”


	8. Extras 3 - In which we find out Konrad has a little shadow

After the jolly giant finally calmed down, Konrad spoke up. “Can we get back to the main stuff again please? Seeing all of this is making me sick.”

“COME ON, KONRAD, IT’S NICE TO SEE THAT SOME OF YOU CAN BE HAPPY IN THE FUTURE. NEED I REMIND EVERYONE THAT THIS FUTURE HAS ME DEAD?”

“Yes, Father, you have mentioned that a good few dozen times now…”

“CAUSE IT’S SO IMPORTANT. EITHER WAY, KONRAD, JUST LET THEM HAVE THEIR FUN. OR I’LL SEE ABOUT EMBARRASSING YOU NEXT.”

Konrad stopped and slowly began to laugh, head thrown back as he let his entire body be consumed with deep belly laughs at how absurd the situation was. “...there is no way in the fething warp that I would  **ever** have kids.”

“BET YOU YOU YOU’RE WRONG.”

“Bet you you’re an asshole.”

“OKAY, EMBARRASSING YOU NOW.”

“You wouldn’t fucking  _ dare _ .”

“TWINS.” Alpharius and Omegon instantly perked up. “GIVE ME THE VID.”

Horus slapped the armrests of his throne, gesturing at the Twins. "Oh?  **Now** you acknowledge them!?"

"CALM DOWN, HORUS, AND STOP QUESTIONING WHAT THE TWINS DO." The Emperor shot back, while the Twins nearby grinned at their oldest brother. Horus threw his hands into the air and just scowled about this, but dropped the subject.

“What fucking vid!?” Konrad demanded, not caring about Horus' hissy fit about the twins.

“THIS ONE.” The Emperor lifted a hand even as the twins flung a black colored vid towards him. Once he effortlessly caught it he showed it to Konrad, who instantly and violently recoiled.

“NO!” He screamed in defiance even as the Emperor chuckled.

“NOT SO COCKY NOW ARE YOU? YOU LITTLE SHIT.”

“FOR THE LOVE OF THE NIGHT FATHER! DON’T PLAY IT!”

“TOO LATE!” The Emperor threw the vid at Magos Lehm who caught it with one of his mechandrites and quickly inserted it into the holoprojector.

“NOOOOOOOOOOO-” Screamed Konrad even as the vid played. Somehow with an even clearer picture than before.

**...  
204.M42 - Macragge,** **_Macragge Magnas Civitas_ ** **  
...  
**

It was the dead of night! The darkness of night was like a blanket over the great city, almost suffocating with its pitch blackness. The great city of Macragge Magnas Civitas was recovering from another attack, the people sleeping away their long day of work! But alas! The night was not any safer than the day!

Emperor: “HOLD UP! THIS SOUNDS LIKE A KIDS STORY.”  
Sanguinius: “I think it is a kid's story…?”

FOR YOU SEE!

In the dead of night is when treachery and injustice occurs. It is during this time when the hero we need and deserve will strike against the foes of mankind! Murderers, thieves, you name it! All of those who go against the laws of Ultramar will be struck down, by **the hero of our tales** …

**_THE NIGHT HAUNTER!_ **

Horus: *barely contained laughter*  
Emperor: “THIS SOUNDS LIKE ONE OF THOSE CHEESY EARLY 50’S CARTOONS. OH...  _ WAIT…”  
_ Magnus: “Wait, Father, wasn’t there some show about this very premise that you told us about…?”  
Emperor: “YEEEESSSSSS… UGH… IT REALLY HASN’T AGED WELL.”  
Lorgar: “The  **Night Haunter** is the hero? This is just… Oh boy.”

The Night Haunter, he has the face of a bat, hair long and oily black as night with eyes like two black holes that stare deep into your soul and see all of the sins that you have committed! Even when wearing his armor, he makes not a sound! For he is the Night Haunter, the night is his domain as he will silently slay the foes of Ultramar!

Our tale begins on another cold, rainy night! A man was escaping through the city, he knew that the sin he had committed in the day would be paid for in the night! He knew that time was running short-

FOR THE NIGHT HAUNTER WAS ON HIS TRAIL!

Konrad: *Turns around and smacks head into throne*  
Ferrus: “This reads like poorly made fanfiction…”

The man had been skipping work, stealing food and refused to be a part of the community. He was EVIL! And he must be punished as is the law of Ultramar!

He stopped when he reached an alleyway with a dead end, he knew if he did not escape that-

NEVERMIND! IT WAS TOO LATE!

Fulgrim: “Despite it lacking production, I do like the visuals going along with this. It could use for more development and tension in the story, but for a child it isn’t so bad…”  
Lorgar: “...are you actually seriously giving constructive criticism for this?”  
Rogal: “Yes, he is.”  
Fulgrim: “Supporting a child in what they like while giving advice on how to improve is vitally important you know.”  
Jaghatai: *Idly nodding*

He felt the presence of the Night Haunter behind him, he could feel the shiver of fear coursed through his body as he realized that he was cornered and there was no escape. He turned around to see him, a giant of a man who was over ten feet tall, and as wide as the alley! He shivered as he looked up at his captor, knowing his time was short.

The Night Haunter grinned down at the man and then… HE SPOKE.

“I have come to destroy you, for the good of Ultramar!”

Jaghatai: “The quality of Konrad’s lines have really dropped.”  
Konrad: “I DON’T SPEAK LIKE THAT!”  
Corvus: “I don’t know… That’s what I hear everytime you speak.”  
Konrad: “I DO NOT SQUEAK LIKE A PREPUBESCENT CHILD. I HAVE THE GROWL AND TONE OF A DARK AND BROODING MONSTER.”  
Rogal: “No.”  
Perturabo: “Yeaaaaahhh… I agree.”

And just like that, the illusion was shattered. Suddenly, the entire backdrop of the scene was replaced with a small boy on a makeshift stage before other kids. His voice was too high and squeaky for the Night Haunter and the illusion was shattered.

Fulgrim: “Ah, he made the set himself. I like the scribbled backdrop.”  
Ferrus: “Is he wearing a costume over his clothes?”  
Fulgrim: “I think so.”

“Wait, my mom always said the Night Haunter was a bad guy.” Said one kid from the crowd watching the display.

Konrad: “YOU’RE DAMN RIGHT! THAT’S WHY I OFFED MYSELF IN THE FIRST PLACE THERE!”  
Rogal: “Quite clearly. You did not.”  
Konrad: “SHUT UP YOU JOLLY BUILDER BOB!”  
Jaghatai: *Noting something down*  
Perturabo: “HEY! ONLY I CAN TELL HIM TO SHUT UP.”  
Rogal: “And hit me.”

The footage was most likely a servo skull who was passing by, the scene playing out before them below, as if they were looking down at it from somewhere above them.

The boy on the stage who was dressed in an elaborate costume of Konrad stopped, then hissed at the kid, “You were lied to! The Night Haunter is a good guy and he works with the Primarchs to keep us all safe and you need to sit down and stop interrupting my story!”

Konrad: *Groaning in actual physical pain*

“How many nights are cold and rainy? You keep saying that in all your stories.”

“WELL… Cold rainy nights are where all the bad things happen. It’s  **dramatic** ! So shush.”

Emperor: “I’M GETTING STAN LEE FLASHBACKS.”  
Magnus: “Stan who?”  
Emperor: “NOBODY IMPORTANT ANYMORE…” *Sighs in good memories*

“But we had a daemon attack on the city during broad daylight-”

“OKAY. NO. JUST… YOUR SPEAKING PRIVILEGES ARE REVOKED!”

“Awwww!”

Horus: “...And that’s how we know he’s a grandchild of the Emperor.”  
Konrad: “SHUT UP! Nothing’s been confirmed!”  
Lorgar: “Yet.”  
Emperor: “I DON’T KNOW IF I SHOULD BE INSULTED OR PROUD…”

“ANYWAY!” The boy cleared his throat, going into a stance on stage before them all, continuing his story and  **hoping** he could continue on with it without someone interrupting him.

“The Night Haunter comes closer to the man, and he begins to tell him of all his wrong doings! He spoke of all of his sins and with each one, the man’s face dropped, since he knew that with each spoken sin he was trapped and would be condemned.”

“When the Night Haunter was finished he looked to the man and said in a deep growling tone, ‘What do you have to say for yourself, you cur?’”

Corvus: “Okay, that’s actually a really good impression on what you should sound like.”  
Konrad: “Kindly go fuck yourself little Raven.”

One kid raised a hand and shook the boy out of his theatrical hand waving, making his drop his hands and sigh dramatically. “Whaaaaaaat?”

“What’s a cur?” The kid asked.

The one on the stage smacked a hand onto his face and rubbed at his eyes, sighing, “A Cur is a bad person who does wrong. Like a criminal.”

“Ohhhhhhh… Why didn’t he just say criminal-?”

“BECAUSE IT’S MORE DRAMATIC AND SHUT UP!” He looked to the crowd again, waving his arms out, “Can I finish!?”

Mortarion: “The kid certainly has Konrad’s temperament.”

Everyone stayed silent.

“Good. So like I said… The man dropped to his knees, and began to beg for forgiveness from the Night Haunter. He tried to tell him that with his presence, he saw the error of his ways! But  **for you see** -!”

Another kid waved their hand.

“...what?”

The kid shrugged, “Why do you always say ‘for you see’? It sounds dumb.”

The one on the stage made a face at the kid, “It’s called flair. So anyway-”

“What’s flair?”

“It’s… It’s just a thing to make it more exciting. Can I please finish?”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“Quite alright! So where was I? Oh yeah! But for you see! The man wasn’t really sorry at all! He was actually trying to curry favor with the Night Haunter! He wanted to hopefully get away from this with his life and begged the Night Haunter to spare him! But you must remember, our hero is smart and cunning! He knew what the man was doing!”

“So he readied his claws and spoke to him again, ‘I must add lying to your sentence! Do you know what it is?’”

He made a motion before the crowd, grinning widely as he prepared what looked to be a choreographed section of the performance. “‘Your sentence is… DEATH!’ And then he charged at the man and began to tear his to pieces! SLASH! CUT! TEAR! AND THE BLOOD! SO MUCH BLOOD! IT IS THE BLOOD OF SOMEONE WHO HAS DONE WRONG!”

At this, the boy began to throw around red strips of cloth at the crowd, who laughed at this, his dramatic sounds of death as he acted out the brutal murder on stage.

Lion: *Slow clapping*  
Mortarion: “Absolutely stellar acting.”  
Perturabo: “So realistic. Better than the theatre on Olympia.”  
Rogal: “No, it is not.”  
Perturabo: “I would slap you if that wasn’t an indirect compliment.”  
Konrad: *Slowly sliding down his throne in embarrassment*

“And so the Night Haunter finished his work! Another criminal was dead for the good of Ultramar! And that, folks, is why you should always be a good citizen! Or you will end up like that man who was just torn to pieces!” He then dramatically fell to the ground, throwing more strips into the air above him, like he was spurting blood. “BWWWAAAARRRGGGHHH BLUOOOOBLOOBLOOO…”

“THE END!”

Konrad: *Facepalming so hard that his skull might cave in*  
Angron: “...I like the blood.”

There was some clapping while others stayed silent.

Fulgrim: “Tough crowd.”  
Sanguinius: “They did just witness the reenactment of a brutal murder.”  
Angron: “And? They’ll get used to it.”  
Lorgar: “Is this normal for Ultramar?”  
Roboute : “What!? Are you kidding me!? Of course not! The planet is clearly under constant threat and to top it all off, overcrowded and undersupplied! Society tends to change under those conditions!

“The harlequins are better at this than you are.” Spoke up an Eldar child sitting with a few of their peers.

The boy on stage sat up, strips of cloth stuck in his long hair. “Hey! You can’t compare me to the harlequins! They train their entire lives and put on shows rarely. They’re professional. I’m just doing my best!”

“This was such a waste of fifteen minutes…” Another kid spoke up.

“Hey! Not many shows are even put on anymore. I’m doing my best and I do this everyday. No one else does.” He looked at the mixed reactions in the crowd, before muttering to himself. “Yeesh… tough crowd.”

“I thought it wasn’t that bad. Doesn’t look that different from the real Night Haunter.” Spoke up a kid who was dressed in a military uniform, quite clearly from one of the richer families who had fallen on hard times.

Konrad: *Grumbling*  
Leman: “Don’t see the difference either to be honest.”  
Konrad: *Full on snarl*

The kid then reached into his uniform and flung a golden coin at the child on stage who caught it easily. He looked down at it with a wide grin. An entire Throne! By Maccrage, he would be eating good tonight!

Inspired or at the very least, persuaded by the rich kid, the others threw their own trinkets. Many were only coppers, but everything helped when you didn’t know when you got to eat next. Especially with so many fluctuating prices.

The boy caught them one by one, his ability to catch them from different spots and velocities was coincidentally entertaining to a few kids who watched as he caught them all.

Horus: “Plus one to him being Konrad’s-”  
Konrad: “NO!”

“Woah. You’re good at that.” One grubby kid said. “Why don’t you juggle or do more stuff like that?”

“I dunno. I just like putting on shows more.” The stage kid shrugged, waving off the crowd that was dispersing away from the little stage behind the buildings in the back alleys. Before long, he was alone as he counted his earnings for the day after shedding his costume.

His smile only widened. He made good money today! His mom would have been so proud. This would be enough to stock up for an entire week for the  _ both _ of them without even serious rationing!

His smile slightly sagged as he sighed and remembered that she wasn’t there anymore. It had been two years but it never got any easier…

Leman: “Tough luck for the poor kid.”  
Lion: “It made him tougher. I fail to see the disadvantage.”  
Magnus: *Sputters* “Besides the obvious emotional scarring?”  
Lion: “He will get over it. There will be far tougher challenges in his life, then the loss of a parent.”  
Magnus: “Just from his age, losing his mother two years previously, if he was not half Primarch the child would have died of starvation long ago! There isn’t any way for him to grow stronger, it would just be another pointless death!”  
Lion: “Then it would have proved him unworthy of the title.”  
Perturabo: “Agreed.”  
Magnus: *Sputters again* “Are the both of you just inhumane bastards!?”  
Lion: *Lifts eyebrow* “No, merely efficient.”

He cheered himself up as he stored the coins in his tattered clothes and walked out of the alley. He made sure to put up a sign that said ‘Out for today’ as he left.

Only to see men in robes looking over his viewers.

Mandatory health checks he heard they were. But his enhanced hearing picked up on some snippets over the clamor of the crowd.

“...become a battle-brother?”

“...maybe...have to… parents.”

One of the serfs put an arm around one of the children's shoulders.

“...eternal glory… never alone… untouched by disease…”

Roboute: “I despair to see what my chapter has fallen to if they need to send out recruiters…”

That sounded kind of nice to him actually, and apparently it did the same to the child as he agreed and climbed into the transport parked on the busy street with the Ultramar heraldry emblazoned upon it.

The boy who gave the act now frowned. Why would anyone join  **them** ? With so many useless laws and rules and the ones who abandoned his mom and him!

Then one of the serfs noticed him.

“Child? Come here, you seem to be the right age.”

The boy stumbled back, eyes wide. He wouldn’t go! He wouldn’t fall for their tricks!

“Boy?” The serf questioned again, stepping closer even as he turned and ran.

“Hey! Get back here, we just want to ask you a few questions!”

The boy ran as fast as his legs could take him, which funny enough was much faster than the serfs would think. He dashed away like a Space Marine, already gone before they could even see which direction he went.

Horus: *Points at screen* “Need I say anything?”  
Konrad: *Growling* “Stop it…”

“Oh… bother. Did you see where he went?” The serf asked the other, who shook their head. The boy was now firmly on their radar, if he could run like that, then what else was he capable of? The serf then had an idea as he looked down at the children around him. “Children? Do any of you know who that was just now?”

They looked to each other and one answered, “Yeah. That’s Damien. He performs here every day.”

Sanguinius: “Damien? A lovely name.”  
Emperor: “IN OLD TERRAN TIMES AND IN AN OLD TERRAN RELIGION, THAT’S THE NAME OF THE SON OF THE ULTIMATE EVIL. OR ULTIMATE REBEL, DEPENDING ON HOW YOU LOOK AT IT.”  
Lorgar: “Why not both?”

Another spoke up, “He’s weird, but he’s not so bad. He knows a lot of weird and long words. He can also do really cool tricks and can make really realistic noises. All of us threw money at him and he caught them all.”

A girl spoke up, “I think he lives near here.”

The serf nodded, yes… Yes this boy, Damien, definitely had the makings of a strong Marine...

“Do you know where his parents are?”

“Nope. We think he’s an orphan.”

The serfs gave sad sympathetic smiles. While the amount of children orphaned by the war was astonishing and stretched any social care for the common citizenry beyond its breaking point, it also made recruiting for the Chapter and regiments far easier. “And you said he performs here every day?”

Ferrus: “The sad reality of orphans…”

“Every day. He puts on shows.”

Well… Catching him would be easy if they could just surprise him. But for now, might as well take these new recruits and see what can be done with them. The sisterhood orders would be combing through soon for candidates as well.

**…**

The footage changed, another servo skull taking over as the entire market was seen from a higher vantage point.

Roboute: “Wait… It’s THAT bad!? The architecture… the housing, the overcrowding… it’s THAT BAD!?”  
Perturabo: “This makes me feel sick to my stomach.”  
Roboute: “Thank you! I’m glad someone sees how horrible this is for the people!”  
Perturabo: “I was talking about the buildings.”  
Rogal: “Hasty and ugly constructs. Inefficient use of space. Poor fortification… hasty fieldwork built under necessity more than actual planning.”  
Roboute: “That… is a very worrying assessment…”

By the time Damien stopped running, he barely even felt tired at all. He just ended up stopping because he arrived at the markets and wasn’t sure if he would run someone over if he kept running. He stopped behind a particularly large stall, his head peeking out to find any of those robed guys walking around the area.

The market was lively today, somewhat more than usual. In the distance he could hear various preachers talking about the Emperor and all that usual nonsense. The noise of the area was nearly deafening to most. There were the sounds of the merchant stalls, people going back and forth in their daily business, workers passing by, people selling their wares, the noise was constant around him.

He could also see various women… some girls really combing through the public while others gave sermons, gaining the attention of other young girls.

One of them looked at him. She was pretty, shoulder-length cut hair with a scar going from one of her eyes all the way to her chin.

He quickly averted his gaze, feeling a blush begin to form as he pushed forward through the crowd towards the food stalls.

He passed by people who were deep into their own conversations. Two Eldar were quickly speaking back and forth at each other, almost angrily.

“-I don’t care how you frame it. I care more about keeping my family fed than whatever it is that you’re doing. The human city side is better than the Eldar side.”

Emperor: “DID AN ELDAR JUST COMPLIMENT HUMANITY!? NOW I HAVE TRULY SEEN IT ALL...”  
Jaghatai: “...we have clearly seen it all.”  
Vulkan: “This truly is a dark timeline.”

“Really now? The Eldar side is at least cleaner than the human side, you know.”

“I think that’s only because all of you are too busy on making it cleaner and look nicer because you can’t accept your craftworld is gone. Besides, the human side is cheaper.” The first one bit back, sighing.

The other one sighed. “You’re right I suppose…” The other accepted with a defeated look. “But I can’t get used to this human food. No matter how hard I try.”

“How do you think I feel? I used to live on a Maiden world. I suppose we should give praise and thanks to Isha there is any food at all lately...”

Roboute: “Considering how bad the food shortages are no wonder the people are suffering… I wish I could do something…”  
Emperor: “I AM SURE YOU ARE ROBOUTE. JUST IN THE FUTURE.”

Damien passed them by, not giving them much more thought.

There were others of course. Beggars holding out ancient Imperial Guard helmets. Some were missing limbs while others merely had that far away look and were being looked after by who Damien thought was their former comrade in arms.

He tried not to look at them too much as he passed them and they begged for money and food. He barely had enough for himself…

“Please kid… I haven’t eaten for a week…” A very frail one begged from the ground.

Damien clenched his fists and shut his eyes… Just ignore them. Walk away.

But… His mother wouldn’t want him to do this…

He quickly reached into his tattered clothes and gave the man a few coppers before pushing onward even as the man cried after him for the Emperor to bless his kind soul.

“From three weeks to two…” He murmured to himself as he finally smelled the food vendors.

Sanguinius: “Despite coming from Konrad, at least Damien is kind and generous, even when he is starving himself.”  
Roboute: “Kind of like Aegidius.”  
Lorgar: “Perhaps there is an inherent good inside each of the primechildren, like how we care for humanity in our own way?”  
Emperor: "PERHAPS..."

He steered clear away from the ones carrying what little sweet smelling desserts and fresh loaves of bread there were. Making sure to avoid the armed guards standing by those stalls. He wouldn’t be able to survive on those for long, went bad too quickly. Too expensive as well.

Instead he moved and went down a flight of stairs, coming to the dreary “undermarket” as it was known. The noise from above was able to mask what happened down in the undermarkets pretty well. One could find anything here if he tried hard enough.

Roboute: “FUCKING DAMMIT- REALLY!?”

Macragge Magnas Civitas was known for being able to avoid a black market for the Imperium's entire existence. But desperate times had finally caused one to form up.

He could see the skimpily dressed girls. Some had bruises, others were just outright pretty. His enhanced eyes could see into some darker buildings and see some probably not much older than himself…

Roboute: *Gripping throne so hard that the metal hand rest is bending*

He shuddered as he fixed his eyes towards the front again. Making sure to not look around too much. Looking at the wrong person in the wrong way was enough to get chased, beaten, and robbed.

Finally he got where he wanted to.

“Hey mister!” He shouted up to the vendor, a dusty old veteran minding his stall of assorted goods.

“Oh, kid, you’re back. What do you want?”

“What can you get me for this?”

He carefully showed the Throne made of gold and the vendor's eyes went pleasingly wide.

“Give it here.” He said and Damien somewhat reluctantly gave him the coin.

The vendor instantly bit into it, then closely looked at it. A pleased smile coming to his face as he spotted his teeth marks.

“Well, for this you can get…” He started reaching underneath his stall and pulling them out.

Silver plastic wrapped bars. Marked by the symbol of the Departmento Munitorum. Dozens of them…

He didn’t know what was in them, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to. He most certainly didn’t know how the grizzly veteran managed to get the tasteless rations.

Sanguinius: *Shudders* “I remember just how disgustingly those things were described to us.”  
Emperor: “SOYLENT GREEN!”  
Rogal: “Recycled human tastes bad… who would have guessed.”  
Perturabo: “...yeah, no reason to hit you.”

But… they were cheap. And they fed him without him suffering too much from malnutrition. So they couldn’t be that bad could they? At least they weren’t charred rat.

His eyes widened as the man stacked two dozen of them.

Enough for an entire week! Well, it’d be even longer if his stomach body didn’t need him to eat so much… But still, a week was good enough!

Fulgrim: “I know that they are disgusting but isn’t standard Imperial Guard doctrine only one per day? One is supposed to have about two thousand calories.”  
Mortarion: “Well, you need to remember that Space Marine and Primarch bodies do need more calories for growth. We burn through so many calories, we need the extra nutrients to not start tearing our own bodies up. But we are fully grown so we can easily go even weeks without a scrap of food. But when we go back to how Damien is half Primarch, and still very much growing, we do have a base from how many calories he would need to not only grow but to sustain himself. A growing boy would need a lot of calories by himself, but when being half Primarch, he would need a lot more. Which also explains why he’s so thin.”  
Fulgrim: “...Sometimes it’s weird to see you go into apothecary mode.”  
Mortarion: “Well, then don’t make stupid fucking statements that I have to debunk.”

His smile widened as he pulled out a hole ridden burlap sack and quickly began piling them in even as a man pulled up with some crates and whispered something into the seller's ear.

“Hey kid…” Spoke the trader in a grim voice. “Price went up I’m afraid.”

Damien looked up at him with wide eyes.

“What?” He asked in a voice full of fear and disappointment even as the man stared down at him in pity.

“They’re raising an entire new regiment. Those are now way harder to come by. And to top it all off, considered Alpha level contraband. They’re promising any new joining members a full meal per day.”

Roboute: “Talk about it coming back to bite the populace…”  
Emperor: “YOU HAD NO CHOICE. YOU NEED DEFENDERS FOR THE IMPERIUM.”  
Roboute: “That’s the effective side yes, and I am not doubting I made the wise choice but… it doesn’t make it any easier to see my own people starve.”

“Well-well…” Stuttered Damien. “How much can I get for the money I gave you?”

The man sighed before his eyes hardened and he answered. “Five.”

“Five!? That won’t last me five days… with rationing…” He silently added in that these would only last him a day or two. He hated how much food he needed to eat just to survive…

Vulkan: “Poor little boy, I would feed him as much as he would want to…”  
Konrad: *Grumbling in his throne, totally not feeling worry or anything*

The trader sighed again as he looked at him sternly and a man wielding a stun stick stepped around the stall, looking at Damien. “Then maybe not eating so many at a time? Learn to ration, kid.”

Damien proceeded to very reluctantly give back  _ fifteen  _ of the bars before turning and quickly walking away with his meagre rations. If only the seller knew how hard it actually was to ration for himself...

He knew he shouldn’t have given away those coppers...

**…**

The next day, he decided to take the advice from one of the kids of yesterday. Employing more acrobatic stunts and tricks for his stage. He tried juggling last night and was pretty good at it, even found enough rocks for throwing.

He got the entire crowd to throw rocks at him so he could dodge them, amazing them with his reflexes and skills.

He got a few coppers that day, which was good considering that his usual crowd wasn’t as thick as it was before.

All because those robed guys came and  **took** some of his customers away.

With what he knew of money and how much he was making, he would barely have enough for just one bar… great.

As he was counting his earnings, his enhanced hearing picked up on the nearly silent movements of someone much bigger than him coming towards his stage. He went still, listening and waiting for whoever was trying to come at him.

He craned his head, listening, and soon he saw that some robed guy was coming into his back alley. Same robes as those guys from yesterday…

He clutched his money close to him and bolted, using his superior speed against them. They were running after him, their shouting voice getting softer and softer as he got away from them again. What was up with these robed guys!? Couldn’t they see that he didn’t want them to come after him!?

Eventually, he ran so far, so fast, he weaved through building alleys, markets and between some waste collectors until he was able to get to his home alley. An alley that had only one entrance and was a dead end. His mom built a nice little hole for the two of them there, hidden behind a moisture collector.

He had everything he needed there, a roof to keep the rain out, some thick boards and paper as a floor so he wasn’t lying on duracrete, a soft pile of cloth for his bed and cloth curtains to protect him from the wind that might blow through. He even had a metal shipping crate that he kept all his belongings in.

Corvus: “It’s the thoughts that make the home.”  
Lorgar: “Oh yes, you grew up in a mine, correct?”  
Corvus: *Nods* “Indeed, with slaves no less. We didn’t have much, barely a place to sleep. But it’s the thought that counts.”  
Angron: “Reminds me of the slave hole I slept in when I was young...”

Though… He was getting a bit too big for his bed now. He’d have to see about getting more bedding soon. It was big enough that his mom was able to stand and lie down comfortably. But it was home, and he didn’t need much else.

He collapsed down onto his bedding, letting out a sigh of relief. It was easy to get away from those robed guys, but all that running just made him hungry…

What was he gonna do!? His customers were thinning out because they keep getting collected, his body just keeps wanting more and more food, it was only a matter of time before he had to…

Had to…

No… No he wasn’t going to steal. Stealing is wrong. He believes in law, order, and justice! And stealing goes against his beliefs!

Konrad: *Finally looks up, denying the feeling of being slightly impressed by the boy's resilience and will*

But…

Did they all go willingly? What was so great about that fortress anyway?

Leman: “The kid isn’t bloody well thinkin’ of doin’ wot I think he is?”  
Roboute: “Please no.”  
Konrad: *Most surely NOT getting worried*

He sighed as he got up and walked out of his hole towards the massive gleaming fortress in the distance, surrounded by slums, hastily constructed buildings and barracks.

He could find out.

Rogal: “The chances of a regular human scaling the main outer walls of the fortress of Hera without equipment are… 0.0032%.”  
Konrad: *SO NOT WORRIED*

His stomach growled as he brought out one of the bars and began to tear into it, a plan formulating in his head.

Jaghatai: “I like this kid.”

**…**

The moon was high in the sky as Damien began climbing the walls of the massive fortress. No one had luckily noticed him so far, obviously not being on the lookout for a scrawny little kid who was crazy enough to scale over a hundred meter tall fortress wall with nothing but the clothes on his back.

Konrad: “Oh for fucks sake.”  
Corvus: “He is surprisingly agile and strong, considering the state of his body.”

His hands digging into the stone work, leaving behind tiny holes where his fingers dug in. Climbing higher and higher.

He could do it however, even in his scrawny state he still had more strength and control than even a fully grown human.

He didn’t know why. But he honestly didn’t care.

**…**

In the distance, two guards watched over the steam of their hot recaff as a dark shape slowly climbed up the straight fortress wall as if it was merely a hill meant for an easy hike.

“I uh…” Spoke one, stuttering over his words. “Should we call this in?”

“And wake the commander?” Said the other one, too busy dunking his nutrient bar into his recaff. “No… just call it into the un-urgent vox. That way we did something and can’t be blamed for it.”

Roboute: *Eye twitching, clearly annoyed*  
Lorgar: “Clearly, we can see that the general workforce hasn’t changed much in the future.”

The first one nodded, just watching how this kid was scaling a hundred meter tall wall with barely any difficulty.

Just as he picked up the vox and sent the most appropriate code for the situation, the kid reached the top… and vanished into thin air.

“What the!?” He yelled, blinking even as he tapped his other partner on his shoulders who was staring equally bemused at the situation.

They both looked at each other. Then down at their recaffs as they carefully sniffed it.

Starvation be damned, they both thought as they took another big gulp.

Roboute: “I don’t know whether to be disappointed, cry, or just do both…”

**...**

Damien reached the top of the wall, climbing over and falling flat on his face as he reached the walkway. He sat up, huffing away some of his hair that got in his face. Well… That wasn’t so hard.

He thought that this would have been a lot harder to do, considering it  **WAS** the fortress. In fact… he was sure he would have been spotted by now.

Konrad: *Facepalms so hard there is a sound of bones cracking*  
Corvus: “That is… not the best way to go about on a stealth operation…”

Whatever.

He snuck around, willing himself to be as invisible as he could, using the dark of the night to keep him hidden. But then he wondered, would the robed guys be able to see him in the dark? He knew that the Space Marines can see in the dark, so he needs to be careful to not be around them.

Hopefully.

At this point he kinda wished he had a corpse dust box to hide and sneak around in. He heard those were used for hiding a lot.

Konrad: “Ah yes, the corpse dust box. Part of any Raven Guard stealth operation. At least Night Lords don’t use that.”  
Corvus: “Yes, I suppose the Night Lords like to go about the Eversor path. No one can spot you if there is no one  _ to _ spot you.”

He saw a door slide open and one of those Space Marines walk out. He was massive!

He quickly got over his awe however and bolted for it, silently running into the door as it slid shut behind him.

He grinned to himself, he got in un-noticed!

Just like  **the Night Haunter** would do it. He giggled to himself as he stuck to the shadows and walked down the narrow hallway.

Konrad: *Turns around and smashes throne with head, breaking away part of the backrest while groaning loudly in embarrassment*

**…**

“Watch station Sigma, come in.” Came a voice over the vox as the sleep-deprived operator of the watch station picked up the receiver.

“Receiving.” He spoke in a gruff voice, having awoken from an unintentional nap.

“We uh, scanned some unknown biometric signatures at rear entrance 212B. Can you check on the feed? Over.”

Konrad: “OH FOR FUCKS SAKE! HE MAKES  _ THAT _ BASIC MISTAKE!? HE’S CLEARLY NOT MY KID!”  
Emperor: “SO QUICK TO THROW HIM UNDER THE BUS. FOR SHAME.”

“Checking.” He spoke even as he put down the vox receiver and pressed the speaker rune.

His fingers danced over the keyboard of runes configuring the security holocams for his watch station. He found the appropriate holocam and turned it back two minutes even as he lit up an Iho-stick.

He coughed. They only got more and more vile. They stopped putting filters with them as standard issue years ago at this point.

The footage loaded and he saw as a shadow whizzed into the doorway.

The Watch Station operator’s eyes went wide. “Control. We have an intruder!”

“Specify type.” The man on the other end demanded.

“I… don’t know, it was merely a blur. Saw a shadow-”

“By Terra!” Cried out the man. “Make sure the Crown Prince is safe, and form a squad to hunt down this ‘shadow’. And do it quietly if at all possible.”

Konrad: *Violently pointing at screen*  
Emperor: “HE WILL GET BETTER! WERE YOU BORN WITH IT- WAIT BAD CHOICE OF WORDS. HE JUST NEEDS A MENTOR TO TEACH HIM ON WHAT NOT TO DO. SOMEONE LIKE HIS FATH-”  
Konrad: *Hissing*

The man hung up the vox even as he took another drag of his Iho-stick.

Never a damned dull night in this fortress with the Crown Prince around…

**...**

At this point, Damien was  **positive** that something was wrong.

He barely saw anyone, and he was dodging past people way too easily. He would have felt confident in all this, but this was the Fortress of Hera! The most fortified and well defended place in all of the Imperium!

But well, all of that was a second thought. He had a slightly bigger issue.

Mainly that he was horribly horribly lost.

Konrad: “BOY! I AM GOING TO SO THOROUGHLY SPANK YOUR ASS AND THEN TEACH YOU TO PREP-” *Shuts up instantly as he realizes that he implied that he cares*  
Fulgrim: *Grinning*  
Konrad: “NO.”  
Jaghatai: *Nodding along*

He was so lost, he had no idea which direction he came in from. Or if he was in a corridor he already went through. He was positive that he was going in circles…

Which coincidentally was a good thing, since he was confusing his trailing teams. Not that he knew that.

He paused and tried to figure out what he could do and where he should go. He tried using his nose to sniff out where he was and where he should go. There were a lot of conflicting smells in the fortress, but he did pick up on a nice smell…

It was  **food** !

Konrad: “DON’T FORGET YOUR MISSION! YOU’RE NOT A FUCKING CANID LIKE LEMAN!”  
Leman: “OI!”

Like a hungry dog, he trailed after the aroma of food. With how late it was, it was most likely the kitchens preparing for breakfast in… thinking on how long he was in here and how long ago since he left his house… Breakfast should be happening in two or three hours…

So he had time.

He snuck around, following the delicious aromas. His stomach growled as he patted it, hoping to find scraps in the bin. It’s not stealing if it’s in the bin!

Konrad: “SOMEONE STOP THIS KID!”  
Leman: “Implyin’ ye actually care?”  
Konrad: “MY REPUTATION IS ON THE DAMN LINE! THAT’S THE  _ ONLY _ REASON WHY!”

**…**

“This is Team 9! Lost sight of the query! Over!”

Roboute: “That many teams to catch one child?”  
Lorgar: “One primechild.”  
Roboute: “True, so it makes sense I suppo-”

“This is Team 29! Saw target heading for the kitchens. Over!”

Leman: “Wait wot”  
Konrad: “There… might be hope for him…”  
Roboute: “No… no way…”

“Team 56 here! We’ll get him!”

Roboute: “Are you KIDDING ME!?”  
Konrad: *nodding appreciatively* “Maybe there is hope for him yet…”

“Team 58 here! We got a pict sent in from the walls security footage! We’re chasing after a young boy! Over!”

“Team 57 here! Excuse my High Gothic. But did you just confirm we are chasing after a  _ fucking kid!?” _

“Team 58 here! Yes. This child scaled the wall by himself with no tools!”

“Hunter Teams, this is command. Stand down! I say again, stand down! This is now another matter.”

“Team 1 here! Please clarify command. Over.”

“Lord Curze has taken personal interest. All hunter teams are to return to barracks. Over.”

Entire family: *Look pointedly at Konrad*

The many humans collectively shuddered. Many of the teams had been witness to the Primarchs terrible presence in the past. The thought of a little boy under the Primarchs unyielding will… was inconceivable.

One guard summed up their collective thoughts with a single line of, “Well… sucks to be that kid.”

**...**

By this point, Damien had found the kitchens and was currently half in and half out of a bin. He found lots of good scraps in there! He even got carrot peels!

Sanguinius: “...he’s… He’s inside of a trash can.”  
Vulkan: “Yes he is. Poor child.”  
Corvus: “He went through multiple teams trying to catch him and he’s just inside of a trash can eating trash.”  
Ferrus: “Hunger drives people to do unreasonable things.”

He just kept munching on anything that was edible in there, never tasting a carrot before! They’re actually kind of sweet...

His eyes perked up as he heard a sound… it was soft and whining… like a machine… oh crap!

He pushed himself out of the bin, wincing when it toppled over and crashed into the ground. He scrambled away, hoping that he received enough sustenance from his hasty meal to continue with his mission of freeing any unwilling people.

He ran through the corridors, sticking to the shadows, climbing the walls to reach the rafters and jumping from chandelier to chandelier, even causing one to go crashing down. At one point, he even ran out a balcony and dropped down to one below it.

Corvus: “That… is impressive.”

Try as he might however… the shadow pursued. Staying stuck to him like a hungry rat to its meal.

Eventually, as he was trying to shake off the shadow, he felt something grab him by the back of his tunic and raised him off his feet and into the air. He curled up in the air, knowing that he was caught and he was going to get punished. His body was turned and who he saw made him nearly squeal with joy.

“Well, well, well. So you’re the little rat that got into the fortress…” Spoke the giant to the captured boy. He was huge! Taller than a Space Marine, long black hair with dark eyes, pale almost dead like skin, armor a deep dark blue, hands covered in talons. And the grin! Sharp teeth in a shark like grin! This just had to be him! “Anything to say?”

Damien couldn’t stop it, his dark eyes that matched the Night Haunter’s own were wide in awe as he took in the form of HIM! He let out a shriek of joy face blooming into a wide grin, “IT’S YOU!”

Konrad's face contorted in confusion. People don’t squeal with joy when they saw him. “What did you just say?”

“Its-Its-YOU! The Night Haunter!”

Leman: *Begins to chuckle*  
Magnus: “And so it begins.”

Konrad winced as he was yet again reminded of his old hated monicker. “No. Not anymore.”

“But-but- I saw the posters!  _ Fear not the night! For it is haunted by our own Lord!” _ Damien recited, remembering that he has a couple of those posters in his home.

Leman: *Full on howling with laughter*  
Horus: *Slapping his arm rest in laughter*  
Konrad: *Wanting his life to end*

Konrad wanted to groan and immediately go strangle whichever menial adept of the Munitorum came up with that damned line. He started walking towards the nearest security outpost.

“I- I- I’m such a big fan!” Damien’s hands and feet shook with excitement, not even caring he was around eight to nine feet from the ground now. “I have a couple of your posters and I tell stories about you and- and-”

Leman: *Falls off of his throne, clutching his stomach even as tears run down his face*

The kid must be crazy, decided Konrad as his eyes briefly ran up and down the rags that covered the child. Homeless most likely, and very scrawny. Eating barely enough to survive. He smelled too. Reminding him off himself in his very early start back on Nostramo. That damned world could rot for eternity now for all he cared...

“-ever since then I decided that I was going to be just like you! Well, not with the killing part. I think blood is kinda icky really, but still! I learned as many laws as possible, I follow the rules, I make sure the other kids follow the rules too- I don’t steal and I make sure to be a good citizen! You know, since justice is so important and all like you said and-” Damien had been talking nonstop, so excited to be right in front of his idol.

Leman: “Oh I fucking- I fucking can’t!”  
Konrad: “WILL HE EVER SHUT UP!?”  
Mortarion: “Just… so much talking…”

Konrad tuned most of it out as they turned the corner. No. Not the security outpost. Medicae first. Poor kid was most likely just crazy.

“And yet… you snuck into the world's most secure fortress… causing a disruption to the entire security system…” He looked forward, walking around the fallen chandelier. “... and damaged property. That is trespassing, causing distress and destruction of Imperial property all in a matter of minutes.”

“-okay so that was my bad. I had a good reason to! Kids that I knew were taken away and I wanted to come see if I could help them or see if they were alright, but I got distracted by the smell of food cause I’m always really hungry all the time and I thought that, well, stealing is wrong, but it’s not stealing if things are in the trash can so I dug through those and well there was a lot of good stuff in there. I didn’t mean to cause damage I just thought that someone dangerous was coming after me so I ran and tried to get away! If I knew it was you chasing after me I would have been a whole lot more careful you know, but then again I think I would have turned around and said hello and tell you how much you’re my hero and how cool I think you are and-”

Magnus: “I know I talk a lot, but this is ridiculous.”  
Leman: *Wheezing from the floor* “-almost like you!” *More laughter*  
Magnus: “I DO NOT JUST SPEW OUT VERBAL DIARRHEA WITHOUT PAUSING!”  
Horus: “Brother… Brother, you do actually.”

Konrad tuned the kid out completely as he strode into the Apothecarium. Startling the Medicae on duty and causing the poor guy to nearly spill his recaff everywhere.

“Lord Curze!” The Medicae quickly saluted even as he glanced at the still talking kid. “What can I do for you my lord?”

“Found the rat, brought it here. Take it. It won’t stop talking.” Konrad nearly growled out, even though he was tuning the kid out, it was still annoying.

“-never been in a place like this before it’s so clean are you leaving me here? I have so many questions I need to ask you since you’re my hero and everything, I just can’t believe I was carried around by you of all people! I just can’t believe all of this happened because I scaled the walls and tried to see how all my friends are doing, well, they’re not really my friends, they just pay me for my performances but still I care about them and I just wanted to know they were alright and-”

“Well… we can do the standard tests, but then I’m afraid it’s back to the streets for him my lord.” The Medicae answered his lord, he was now tuning the boy out as well, since he was talking a mile a minute and didn’t seem to be taking many breaths in between sentences.

“Back to the streets? He snuck into this fortress!”

Corvus: “Fair point.”

The Medicae winced. “I’m sorry my lord, but that is the policy with underaged children. That is of course, unless the Ultramarines want to take him.”

“Ultramarines!?” Yelled the scrawny little kid suddenly, getting the attention of both of them. “I don’t wanna be an Ultramarine! They’re the ones who took all my friends! If anything, I’d rather be a Marine for any other chapter or whoever!” He stuck his tongue out at the Medicae, letting him fully know what he thought of the Ultramarines.

Roboute: “Well… there have been more subtle ways of refusing to join.”

Konrad let out a surprised snort. A kid living on Macragge who didn’t idolize the Ultramarines. Now that was precious! Then again, this is the same kid that is showering him with hero worship.

“I’ll stay.” Konrad said to the Medicae. “Do the tests.”

Emperor: “LOOK AT YOU, BEING A GOOD DAD.”  
Konrad: *Batgrumble*

“Wait you will!? Oh my gosh this is so great! This means I can ask you all the questions I can! I’m just so honored to be around someone like you, you must be very busy all the time you know, since there’s a lot of bad guys in the galaxy and the war going on, you know. Do you still tear people apart with your claws or is that a thing you don’t do anymore, cause like I said earlier I think blood is icky but fake blood isn’t so bad it looks kinda cool, especially if you get to act out the death scenes, did I mention acting out death scenes is like my favorite thing to do on my performances-”

“Very well my Lord, please put the child on the table.” The Medicae then put on a pair of gloves along with his white coat even as he got a carrying case.

Konrad put down the chatterbox onto the table even as the Medicae gently coaxed Damien’s over clothes off until he was left sitting in only his underwear. A big dumb grin still everpresent on his face, the exact opposite of the pitiful state of his body.

It was dirty, and extremely malnourished. Both the Medicae and Konrad could easily count each of the child’s ribs. There was barely any muscles, and even bone to go along with it.

Mortarion: “...correction to my earlier statement. Obviously we now see what happens when a ‘Primechild’ doesn’t get the proper nutrients and nourishment as they grow up.”  
Vulkan: “He is just a little sack of bones!”  
Corvus: “And yet he climbed a hundred meter tall wall with his bare hands.”  
Mortarion: “Obviously we can see that his Primarch genes do come out to help him. Another hypothesis I have been working on concerning the children. It seems that even though they aren’t full Primarchs, they do gain a random set of abilities and perks that we have. Aegidius does have the brain power of a Primarch at times, even showing a resilience that we would have, same with Vulkan's mutant Janan. We have also seen that Perrin looks to have taken to augmentation and his marine conversion like an avian to the air. While Venus has not shown any gifts yet, this is not like Freya where from what we have seen has strength and speed, she made a Space Marine cry out in distress. And from what we can see of Damien, he does have the superior speed, reflexes, and makings of an infiltrator. All the extra calories he burns have been taking their toll on his body, but from what I can see, he is making do.”

And yet… this child… this malnourished, dirty, homeless, weakling of a child successfully managed to dodge the  **Night Haunter** for a full minute.

“-yeah I know I’m really really skinny, but I swear I can never get enough food, you know, I’m just always so hungry all the time, even after I eat a meal that other kids eat. I’m not trying to be a pig, I just can’t help it, I guess it’s just another thing that makes me different from other kids, since they’re not as fast as I am or as nimble or- wait am I bragging? Is bragging a bad thing? I don’t mean to brag, I’m just kinda stating the truth, since you know I have to be honest all the time since that’s really important, even my mom told me that before she died two years ago-”

The Medicae opened the carrying case, a look of pity on his face as he took out a rather sharp looking hypodermic attached to some sort of screen.

“Slight pinch.” He said even as he quickly managed to hit a vein on Damiens arm. It wasn’t hard. They were showing as if he was looking at a pict from a medical textbook.

“What? Did you do something? I didn’t feel anything. Then again, I don’t really feel pain much, really weird, but it’s okay, it just means I can go a lot longer than other kids since I don’t really complain about that type of thing since complaining doesn’t really solve any of my problems, I wonder how long this will take I feel kinda cold, and it feels weird to sit around in my undies you know-”

The hypodermic sucked up the blood even as the Medicae reached over to the counter and gave Damien a nutrition bar. “Eat this, you need it.” It was mostly because of the blood draw, standard procedure. But the Medicae had to be careful, give him too much at once and the poor boy could even die.

The nutrient bar was eaten in nearly one gulp, but they were positive he chewed thoroughly and ate it in a matter of seconds. This did little to stop his long tirade of talking. “So as I was saying, kinda cold in here, you know, hey does your armor keep you warm or do you like it being cold, I never know what it’s like in armor like that so what’s it like wearing armor like that is it comfortable, do you kinda forget it’s there? Or do you always feel it? Is it kinda like how your nose is always in your sight but your mind just kinda ignores it-”

*Everyone is just tuning out the talking*

The device in the Medicaes hand pinged and caused his eyes to go wide with surprise.

“What is it?” Curze asked impatiently.

“Nothing… and that’s the thing. No diseases, no stunts in growth, hormones are completely fine, digestion is completely normal.” The Medicae looked up at Konrad. “Besides appearing malnourished and dirty… the child is… well… completely healthy.”

Mortarion: “Hypothesis confirmed.”

“Well yeah I’m healthy I never get sick once! I just kinda keep going and going and going and going and going and going one time I was able to stay up for like a week without sleep, and I barely cared it only took me until it was two weeks where I finally had to fall asleep it was wild, but I was up and about again in the morning after a full night’s rest and I was fine like those two weeks didn’t even happen, can you do that or am I just weird and it’s just me? I hope I’m not a mutant that would be bad since I know mutants aren’t tolerated, I heard about that from a pamphlet someone was reading out loud since I can't read you know, I gotta keep up with my learning since my mom told me that using my eyes is important, especially since hers didn’t work at all-”

Konrad had enough. “Just give him the standard compatibility test for all active chapters and be done with it.”

“That will take about an hour if I am going to run it through all-”

“Just mine then!” He spat, truly irritated now. “I don’t know how much longer I can handle him just rambling!”

“Of course my Lord.” The Medicae hastily spoke as he retreated to a cogitator and plugged in the hypodermic device that he had used to draw Damiens blood.

“Should only take about a minute or two-” The Medicae cleared up as he plugged in the device. Only for a ping to sound immediately and the screen to go green. “What?!” Shouted the Medicae in utter surprise.

“What now?” Asked Konrad, seriously contemplating just walking out.

“My lord… I think I need to do a second tes-”

“Oh for the love- get out of my way!” Konrad moved and shoved the Medicae to the side, looking at the screen on his own. What he saw, truly stunned him for the first time in millennia.

**++CHANCES OF GENE-SEED REJECTION… 0%++**

**++CHANCES OF ASTARTES ORGAN ACCEPTANCE… 99.87%++**

**++CHANCES OF AUGMENTATION SUCCESS… 97.35%++**

**++GENETIC MAKEUP MATCH… 100%++**

The Entire damn family: *Slowly turning to look at a somehow even paler Konrad*

Horus: *Turns to Konrad, with a smug look on his face* “So… You wanted proof.”  
Konrad: “Shut. Up.”  
Horus: “Why? We had to wait for proof to come up and now here it is. Congratulations. You’re a father.”  
Konrad: “I’ll fucking murder you.”

“Hey what’s on the screen I can’t really see it from here, I’m kinda too little to see you know, it must be important for you two to be crowding around it, almost like the markets near where I live, it’s always crowded there, with humans and Eldar there, the undermarkets aren’t as crowded as the upper markets you know, but the undermarkets are more dangerous than the upper markets, but I gotta say the upper markets are so overpriced you know-”

“Shut up.” Quietly spoke Konrad, causing Damien to instantly fall silent.

For a moment, the only thing heard was the breathing of the Primarch as his mind contemplated and thought how such a thing was even possible.

How… oh… oh… he said she was blind…

“Child.” Konrad spoke again, never turning. “Describe your mother.”

Damien sat up straighter, “My mom? Oh, she was really nice and pretty, she had long brown hair, her eyes weren’t working at all, she was actually completely blind you know, so they were like milky? She was a bit darker than me and you, but that isn’t really hard to do, since we’re both really pale. She said it was important for me to eat since she said that my metabolism was going to be really high for someone like me, which I don’t really understand why, it’s just kinda always like this. Oh wait, MY MOM! My mom came from off planet years ago, she said she was on this planet that was under attack and then she was saved by a bunch of Space Marines that appeared over her planet and they saved them, but their planet kinda got destroyed so they stayed on the ship for a while but she said she met my dad on there I don’t really know my dad, she said he was kinda scary to talk to but whatever I guess? She died two years ago, since she tried to work but we never got a lot of money and I needed to eat a lot more than she did but it wasn’t so bad since we lived in an alleyway next to a moisture collector. So what else do you wanna know-?”

Sanguinius: “No offence to Konrad but… how did he get with such a wonderful sounding lady?”  
Rogal: “Because she was blind.”  
Emperor: “WAY TO BRING DOWN THE HAMMER, ROGAL.”  
Rogal: “My hammer is back aboard the Phalan-”  
Perturabo: *Smacks*

Konrad’s mind was a rollercoaster of emotion. How? How did this…  _ fucking _ universe keep fucking shit up for him!?

He wasn’t ready to be a father! He failed with his  _ gene-sons _ ! So how could he handle one actually born of his own blood!?

He turned to look at him. For the first time truly taking in his sight.

The pale skin, dark eyes, darker loose hair. That was obviously his. But that nose… the shape of his chin. The way his smile curled his cheeks… The dimples...

Fuck! Fuck fuck **fuck fuck!** **_FUCK_ ** **!**

Think! Fucking think! What could he do!? He could- he could-

“Medicae!”

“Yes my lord?”

“Give the kid a bath. ”

Angron: “Ha! Pussy.”  
Konrad: *Too worried and angry to react*

That would buy him some time as he stepped outside of the Apothecarium, looking at the rising sun in the distance through one of the massive windows even as the Medicae coaxed Damien towards the showers in the backrooms.

Fuck… what was he going to do… wait… what was the kids name again? Shit, maybe he shouldn’t have tuned him out...

**…**

The Lord Commander of the Imperium had stopped by on Macragge as a mere pit-stop on his way to the other edge of Imperium Secundus. But he couldn’t resist taking a moment in his office to himself.

Roboute: “Why are we on me all of a sudden?”  
Emperor: “KNOWING KONRAD… WAIT FOR IT.”

His hands flew over documents and paperwork even as his mind was occupied by another matter entirely. He never needed his full attention for the damned papers anyway.

He was roused out of his thoughts by a knock on his door.

“Enter.” Roboute called out, wondering who could be wanting his attention this early already.

The door was opened and Roboute had to nearly pinch himself when he saw who it was and what he was carrying. There was his brother, Konrad, at the door, looking panicked and holding a bundle of a towel that was wrapped around a child that looked a lot like his brother.

Emperor: “RIGHT ON SCHEDULE.”

He looked between the two of them, the boy, then his brother, the boy, then his brother, then the boy who was now waving at him, then back at his brother who was quickly and desperately motioning towards the boy with his eyes and head.

Sanguinius: “Now that he is cleaned up, he is kind of cute… Big dark eyes popping out of a towel… adorable.”

Roboute put the documents down and put his hands together, tapping against his mouth while leaning forward. And said the first thing that came to mind. “So when did you get a son, Konrad?”

Before Konrad could speak, the boy, Damien gasped really loudly and practically shrieked in joy, “ **_I’M HIS SON!?_ ** ”

Lorgar: “PFFFFFFFT-” *dying of laughter*

*Most of the family is laughing at how loudly and surprised Damien is that Konrad is his own father*

Konrad: “Uuuuuggghhhhh…”

Konrad looked as if he was going to have a migraine, letting out a long, shuddering sigh. “According to my calculations… About sevenish years ago.”

Roboute looked to the boy, “How old are you, boy?”

Damien was silent for a while, working up the courage to speak to the Lord Commander. He softly spoke to him, “Seven, sir…”

Horus: “Like we need any more proof Konra-”  
Konrad: “I REALLY DON’T FUCKING CARE! HOW THE FUCK DID I GET A KID!? WHO WAS CRAZY ENOUGH TO SLEEP WITH ME!? HOW WAS  _ I  _ CRAZY ENOUGH TO SLEEP WITH SOMEONE?!”  
Leman: “Best questions you ever asked.”  
Rogal: “The only person who would want to initiate coitus with Konrad was quite literally a blind woman.”

“Oh, now you’re silent!?” Konrad cried out, one hand coming up and rubbing at his face. “Please don’t get him to talk, I can’t stand another long tirade of his…”

“You get used to it.” Spoke Guilliman by pure experience.

“No. Not with this one. I nearly got a migraine with him constantly talking. From when I found him, picked him up, walked to the Apothecarium, to the testing and even after it, he wouldn’t stop!” Konrad ground out, looking down at Damien who grinned sheepishly.

Mortarion: “Future Konrad has a point.”

“I don’t mean to… I just talk and my mind just goes and goes and goes-”

“SHUT UP. NO.” Konrad immediately cut off Damien, stopping him from going on another tirade.

Roboute sighed before getting up, rising to his massive height and walking around his desk. “What do you plan on doing with him?”

Konrad looked back to his brother. “I don’t know. I don’t know how to take care of a kid! You know what happened to my own gene-sons! You take him.”

The Lord Commander gave his brother a look which simply screamed ‘are you fucking serious right now?’. “No.”

Roboute: “Did you seriously just try-”  
Konrad: “FUCK OFF PAPA SMURF! I AM IN NO DAMN MOOD!”

Konrad let out a deep sigh, holding the kid out and away from him and towards his brother with one hand. “Take him.”

“Brother.” Spoke Roboute calmly. “Look him in his eyes-”

“No.” Konrad immediately cut him off.

“Look  _ your  _ **_son_ ** in his eyes and then tell me that.”

Internally screaming, Konrad turned Damien around and looked him in the eye. Damien, even before when he looked at Konrad with all that hero worship, now looked like Konrad was the greatest gift in the entire galaxy wrapped up on a shiny silver platter and it was addressed to him. The smile on him was so… So open and… and…

What the hell is wrong with him!? He couldn’t take care of a kid he didn’t know the first thing about taking care of a child and just- just this was such a bad idea, it would be so much easier to just hand him over to Guilliman and…

No… No he can’t now. Shit.

“What did you do to me?” Konrad asked out loud, unable to look away from the situation.

Konrad: “OH FUCK OFF! NO! NO NO NO NO!”

“Made you realize the glory of fatherhood.” Spoke Guilliman. Already typing something into a datapad. “Your name, young one?”

“Oh! My name is Damien sir! I don’t right know what it means, actually. My mom gave it to me and I’m sure it must mean something since most names do have a meaning to them, I just don’t know what mine means really. Wait, if the Night Haunter is my dad, does this mean my full name is actually Damien Curze? That actually sounds kinda cool now that I think about it, kinda like I have a family again, wait, if he’s my dad and he calls you brother, does that make you my uncle, and does this mean I don’t have to eat trash anymore, what’s going to happen to me now, actually? I just have a lot of questions now, since this is the first time someone’s actually answering my questions and-”

Konrad: “FUCK! NO HE STARTED TALKING AGAIN!”

Guilliman nodded along as he input something into the datapad. “The fortress’ defenses will now recognise him as friendly. You can talk to any of your remaining sons, or, in my recommendation, any of the  **new** ones about his personal guard escort. If luck will see it through, I can get him the same tutors as Aegidius has.”

Konrad: *Primes claws* “YOU AND I NEED TO HAVE A TALK BLUEBERRY!”  
Roboute: “FOR WHAT!? Future me is only doing everything that is needed to make sure the kid is taken care of! He’s doing more for him than you did! And you’re his father! Future me only knew Damien for five minutes!”  
Konrad: *Continues grumbling*

“I get tutors? I’ve never had a tutor before, so what do tutors even do what do they do tutor you? Is tutoring a thing that people do? Is that like school because I’ve never actually been to school, you know so I don’t know how I’m gonna do actually-”

Guilliman looked up at the poor boy. “His room is two floors down from Aegidius’, the serfs there will know. They are also going to send a tailor to it immediately so the child can get some clothes.”

Guilliman then spotted some bone poking through Damien’s skin that was peaking from beyond the massive soft towel.

“And for Terra’s sake, feed the poor boy.”

He then turned and sat down behind his desk, going back to his paperwork as if they weren’t there at all.

“Am I actually getting real food now? Cause right before the Night Haunter picked me up, I was actually eating scraps out of the bin in the kitchens.”

The very expensive heirloom fountain pen snapped in half in Guillimans hands as he looked up startled at Damien and then glared at Konrad. His eye twitching in the way it did when he learned that something threatened Aegidius.

Roboute: “OH COME ON! NOT ANOTHER ONE!”  
Vulkan: “Do you care more for a pen than a child who was eating trash!?”  
Roboute: “I CARE FOR BOTH! BUT ONE WAS USED BY MY FATHER VULKAN!”  
Rogal: “Father could not have used-”  
Roboute: “MY  _ ADOPTIVE  _ FATHER! IT’S ONE OF THE FEW THINGS HE ACTUALLY LEFT ME!”  
Vulkan: “I… withdraw my accusations.”

And this was his nephew… not that far off he supposed.

Roboute stared at Konrad, the angry look not leaving his face… until… it was replaced by a grin.

Konrad stared back, “I didn’t know he existed until an hour ago, you know.”

“Please, nephew.” He said looking at Damien with a genuine smile. “He’s not the Night Haunter. He’s ‘father’. Remember that. Only proper.” Causing Damien to squeal in joy in Konrad’s arms. Damien just thought that this was the best day ever. It was a great idea to break into the Fortress of Hera!

Konrad meanwhile just instantly wanted to punch Roboute in his practical face and then disappear.

The holoprojector stopped.

Konrad’s head slowly turned. The sound of stone grinding on stone audible in the air.

“I’m going to kill you Guilliman.”

Guilliman turned towards Konrad, “Why? I understand that you may be slightly uncomfortable, but-”

“Slightly uncomfortable!?” Konrad roared as he stood from his throne, practically shaking in rage. “I’m just slightly uncomfortable!? I just fucking sat here while all of you were having a grand fucking time just poking fun at my expense and wouldn’t leave well enough alone! All because  _ Father _ ,” He practically spat the word out, “decided he wanted to pick on me!”

The Emperor raised his hands in defeat with a grin. “I WARNED YOU SONNY. DON’T SCREW WITH ME. BESIDES, WOULD HAVE HAPPENED SOONER OR LATER.”

Konrad whirled on the Emperor, snarling at the golden man, “This. This is why I can’t fucking stand you! I’m actually angry and humiliated that you decided to show this off, and you have the gall to sit there and act like nothing is wrong! Like I’m overreacting!”

“Because yer’ are!” Cut in Leman. “We’re all fathers in here… well probably. Point is, we all have to deal with it! Yer clearly loyal too! I fail to see the issue.”

“Because I’m embarrassed!” Konrad threw his hands into the air with a scoff, “I made this clear from the beginning. No one cared.”

“Konrad, this all started because all of you wanted to embarrass and poke fun at me!” Guilliman spoke up, giving Konrad a look. “Need I also remind you that everyone has been getting embarrassed this entire bonding experience, you’ve had the time of your life poking fun at everyone else’s expense. Not so good that it’s happening to you?”

Konrad let out a low growl and activated his thunder claws and raised one, intent on causing harm.

He didn’t even begin to strike when it was grabbed by a powerful gauntleted hand.

He whirled on who dared do so, only to look at the stern face of Horus.

“Brother.” He commanded. “Don’t you  _ dare. _ ”

Konrad growled again as he desperately attempted to free his caught arm.

“SON.” The Emperor stood and walked over to the struggling Night Haunter. “YOU MUST CONTROL YOURSELF. WE HAVE ALL SUFFERED HUMILIATION AND EYE OPENING EXPERIENCES WITH THESE VIDS.”

Konrad barked at his father's face, spitting Nostraman curse words. “Rich coming from you! You’re the one who loves it when others get the attention, but whenever its on you, suddenly is wrong!”

“NEED I REMIND YOU KONRAD OF JUST HOW COURTEOUS I HAVE BEEN? AND REMIND YOU FURTHER THAT IN THE FUTURE, YOU DIED A TRAITOR'S DEATH. ONE THAT YOU SENTENCED YOURSELF TO.”

“Do you THINK I need reminding about that!?”

“YOU DO. BECAUSE YOU ARE QUITE CLEARLY ALIVE.. HELPING IMPERIAL REFUGEES AND FIGHTING FOR MANKIND ONCE MORE.”

Konrad deflated, knowing his father was right. In the future vids, he’s dead, but when they looked at the darkest one, suddenly he’s alive. Alive, well and helping others. And he had no idea what happened to make him like that, no way of knowing how or why he decided to forgive himself.

And that frightened him more than any idea of fatherhood ever could...


	9. Eden

“Ok, so now that father has thoroughly attempted to humiliate Konrad, anyone want to get back to the main chapters?” Horus spoke up, still shaking his head at his father's antics. Honestly, at this point, they needed to have a sit-down and talk more about how much they all needed to schedule some family therapy.

“I agree, we shouldn’t just stop and make fun of our brothers. Even in small jest.” Roboute agreed, most definitely not wanting to get back to his boy. “Do we happen to have the next chapter on hand? Or was it lost when everyone was rummaging through the piles-  **_Which should be stacks and all of you know it!_ ** ”

“Calm your blueberry colored man tits, brother,” Leman spoke up, looking like he was more reclining into his throne than sitting anymore. He had been like that ever since he saw that he had one single daughter,  **exactly one single daughter,** in the future and she was a damn dog! Not even a wolf, acting like a damned  _ DOG _ !

“Fine, fine. I will sort them during the next break myself along with Magnus.” Roboute answered, making Magnus sputter at him.

“Wait, why me?”

“Because it is secretly annoying you to your core as well.”

Magnus shrugged, not willing to fight back on something that was annoying him as well. “Fair point.”

“Alright, the vid should be here somewhere.” Horus began rummaging through the pile. Then, Horus paused and had a bit of an epiphany, “wait, why don’t we just get the Twins to find it? They always seem to find things inexplicably easily and just seem to do the impossible.”

“Normally I would agree with you brother but,” Sanguinius held up the vid. “I have been hanging on to it, waiting for us to get back to the main storyline.”

Lorgar snickered from the side, “You’ve been holding onto it because you can’t stand the idea of having us stop on a cliffhanger.” This made Sanguinius huff in indignation, not appreciating how his whole ‘unable to stand cliffhangers or interrupted viewings’ schtick was getting ahead of him.

“Just like you can’t stop thinking of religion as so great, only to have the one founded upon your very teachings shoved in every single ugly way down your throat.” Sanguinius rebuffed, one of his eyes twitching un-naturally.

Jaghatai let out a low whistle, “It’s like all of you have finally started to learn the way of Chogorian Verbal Lashing.”

“Honestly, I give little to no shits at the moment, let's just play the vid. Magos, catch.” Sanguinius threw the vid at Magos Lehm, who managed to catch it effortlessly in one of his mechadendrites.

Magos Lehm quickly began his work of inserting the vid and setting up the holoprojector, it seemed that every time a vid was played, everyone in this room got either more friendly with each other or grew in some way. Which was at first odd for the Magos, being so close to the Omnissiah. But perhaps it wasn’t so bad, it was actually kind of nice...

**...  
204.M42 - Fortress of Hera  
...  
**

The vid opened up to reveal a close up of Aegidius’ face. His eyes were closed and he appeared to be far more relaxed than usual. And his arms were wrapped around the pillow that his head was lying on.

Except, it wasn’t a pillow.

“I missed you mom…” Came a tiny whisper from the child even as a hand, far too slender, and moving with far too much grace to be human or even transhuman, reached down and brushed some idle blonde curls away from Aegidius face. “What took you so long?” Aegidius groaned next, squeezing himself even tighter into his mother's lap.

“I missed you most, my sweet boy.” She cooed at her son, hand scratching the top of his head and through his hair as she began to hum a song to him, a song that made no sense to any other except the two of them. She smiled when his ears pricked up and he began to hum with her. “Never forget that.”

Mortarion: “Oh for fuck's sake, it's the witch.”  
Konrad: “Can we burn her, father?”  
Emperor: “SEEING AS HOW ROBOUTE WANTS AEGIDIUS TO EXIST, THEN NO.”  
Roboute: “I have claimed no such thing!”  
Emperor: “SO THAT’S A-”  
Roboute: “-But I will!”  
Vulkan: “Keep that to yourself.”  
Roboute: “I thought you were going to support me?”  
Vulkan: “Not if you scream it out loud.”  
Roboute: “But I’m talking normally…?”  
Mortarion: “Shut your mouth, witch lover. Too fucking loud.”  
Magnus: “Oh come on! You can’t censor our brother just because his future self has gone down the path of-”  
Mortarion: “Shut your mouth, you witch.”  
Emperor: *Surprising chuckle* “LOW BLOW, BOYS. PLAY FAIR.”  
Lehm: “Wow, okay. Not really then…”

The Eldar woman with her long platinum hair in a top knot, over artificed armor and wych suit with overskirt looked almost comical next to the boy. But the maternal look on her face as she looked down at him was genuine. The Herald of Ynnead was clearly softened and glad to be near her son.

However, she didn’t like how tense his soul felt when he was so close to her like this. Were the damned Craftworlders right?

Maybe she shouldn’t have threatened them and was a bit too…  _ thorough _ with her warnings.

Magnus: “Oof… Yeah, I can see that.”  
Sanguinius: “See what?”  
Magnus: “Aeldari women are notoriously protective and downright homicidal against anyone who gets close to their children besides their fathers.”  
Corvus: “And how do you know that?”  
Magnus: “I read.”  
Corvus: “No, you do not get to use that one again!”  
Magnus: “Use  **what** , brother?”  
Corvus: “You say you read a lot, and while that may be a fair assumption and explanation for you usually, you seem to know a lot about Aeldari customs and mannerisms. Including your knowledge and  **practice** of their language. What are you hiding, you damned witch!?”  
Roboute: “You do know I also speak Aeldari and am highly familiar with their culture, right Corvus?”  
Corvus: “Yes, that may be true, but he is being too precise for my liking. So I ask again, what are you hiding?”  
Magnus: “...let’s get back to it, shall we?”  
Corvus: “ANSWER ME!”  
Magnus: “No.”  
Corvus: “You can’t just say no and then get to act like it’s done with!”  
Magnus: “Rogal does that very thing all the time and no one questions it.”  
Rogal: “This, is true.”  
Konrad: “Give me an hour alone with him and I’ll make him squeal.”  
Emperor: “OKAY, NO TORTURING OF YOUR BROTHERS, KONNY BOY! WE ALL AGREED TO THIS!”

Their fault really. Everyone knew not to get between an Eldar wych and her child.

Still, his soul felt oddly strained more than usual, he was even tired and close to falling asleep. She was having to weave through their tenuous mind link with tender care, soothing the boy with her presence and alleviate some of his strain. When none of his strain lifted, she once more began to murmur her song to him, causing every single muscle in Aegidius’ tiny body to relax as he let out a tiny breath of contentment. The song only they knew, they composed together since she first knew her boy, a song that would always comfort him.

When he heard her song, the boy relaxed as he responded softly. He had been fighting sleep, but once their song was heard his eyes couldn't stay open and he soon was asleep, curled up next to his mother.

She ran a hand through his curling locks, glad she was able to bring him peace at this moment. When she really looked at him and recalled how strained his soul was, it was hard to tell how young he still was. Far too young for what he was forced to endure and learn, even if he was over half his father’s son.

That was another thing. By human standards she guessed her husband to be a good father. A strict yet gentle one who knew how to properly raise a child. He was doing a fine job for human standards. By Eldar standards… Well, she would be considered a terrible mother, much less him as well. For one thing, she was supposed to be by her son’s side until he was at least a full Eldar cycle old. But well, he grew at the rate of a human and… She admitted that duty came first and she missed out on what was his most critical years. At least she was able to convince everyone to allow her at least the first two years with him, which was barely a sixth of a cycle…

Emperor: “I SWEAR, ELDAR GROWTH CYCLES ARE FUCKING WEIRD. I STILL DON’T UNDERSTAND WHY THEY HAVE TO DO EVERYTHING IN CYCLES OF TWELVES.”  
Vulkan: “Um… why are they like that father?”  
Emperor: “I REALLY DON’T KNOW. I REALLY DON’T. ELDAR ARE FUCKING CONFUSING, CAUSE ONE MOMENT IT’S: ‘I HATE MY KIDS I WISH THEY WOULD GROW UP AND NOT BOTHER ME’ TO ‘FUCKING TOUCH MY KIDS AND I’LL CUT YOU WITH YOUR OWN SPINE’. FUCKING CRAZY. WHY CAN’T THEY STAY CONSISTENT?”  
Rogal: “Father.”  
Emperor: “DAMMIT NOT AGAIN- WHAT IS IT ROGAL?”  
Rogal: “Why are you complaining about Eldar breeding, growth and child-rearing styles? It is redundant to complain about the Eldar and their already confusing ways of life. You are being… redundant.”  
Emperor: “I SWEAR ROGAL, I WILL THROW YOU OUT THE AIRLOCK. THINK ABOUT IT, IF THEY DIDN’T RAISE THEIR KIDS IN SUCH A SHITTY WAY, MAYBE, JUST MAYBE, THEY WOULDN’T BE A BUNCH OF STUCK UP, KNIFE EARED, ASSHOLES.”  
Rogal: “You make a very good point, father. Forgive me.”  
Magnus: “Much like how you shouldn’t have been the galaxy’s shitiest father?”  
Emperor: “QUIET MAGNY MAGIC. HORUS TURNED OUT JUST FINE.”  
Angron: *Angry groaning noises*  
Emperor: “I SAID HORUS!”

Speaking of time spent with close ones... she hadn’t spoken to her husband since practically Aegidius’ birth. Theirs was a marriage of convenience, which is what she told herself. And they knew that they wouldn’t see each other often. But she felt the bond to him waver and strengthen nonetheless. She was tied to him until one of them would perish and their soul would be gone from this world.

Roboute: “Marriage of convenience. Right. I swear, I thought Eldar didn’t do that type of thing…”

Aegidius softened yet again in her lap, his breathing becoming rhythmic even as his heartbeat slowed and he drifted off into a gentle, dreamless sleep.

It was the least she could do for him. An Aeldari child should never have been separated from his mother so early. If he was a true Eldar he would still be learning to speak, still dependant on his mother and father for every bit of guidance.

As it was… he was strong.

Oh, he was clumsy on the exterior, small, frail, and sensitive. But she knew of his true nature.

He had the exterior and soul strength of an Eldar. A  _ powerful _ Eldar. But his mind and literal entrails were truly his father’s. There was no mistaking that mind, that logistical and logical thinking along with what was essentially photographic memory and his learning speed was unparalleled.

Magnus: “Ok… that does complicate things.”  
Roboute: “What do you mean?”  
Magnus: “Well in theory-”

In theory, Aegidius should have been the perfect half-breed. Combining both greats of each species while neglecting the worst. Every single healer and Apothecary had even stated it as such.

Magnus: “... that, essentially.”

And yet… his soul felt strained. The Astronomicon embedded within him took some power away of course, though no one was sure how it worked…

She felt as if the soul that was her son wasn’t just him. She knew him, she knew it. She carried him for almost two standard Terran years! She felt and guided his budding soul since day one. And ever since his birth, it felt… wrong. Her precious son’s soul felt like it was carrying a large tumor that grew only larger and stronger with each year.

And she worried about exactly what it was doing to him.

No one knew how or even why or how the Astronomicon was reborn inside of her son. The greatest farseers and librarians had tried weaving their way into Aegidius’ mind and all had failed.

Even herself.  _ His mother _ . The one being in all of Eldar society which usually had full access to their child’s mind while it was still developing.

It was almost as if Aegidius’ mind was protected. Protected by something so well fortified that it was nigh unbreachable when it should have been open to her.

Magnus: *Whistles* “Something powerful enough to overrule the bond between an Aeldari mother and her child… now that is…  _ very _ rare.”  
Jaghatai: “How rare, to be precise?”  
Magnus: “So rare, that it is touted as fact that no one can come between the bond of the mother and child.”  
Ferrus: “So what could be strong enough to do that, then?”  
Magnus: “From what I know, someone with so much power that they could essentially-”

Almost as if something had shared the space of his soul-

Magnus: “Well… it is a possibility.”  
Sanguinius: “Sharing space with another soul?”  
Magnus: “Yes but… it would be the very essence of the word terrible… no body that we know of was meant to house two souls. Not even us, in order for the person to even survive he would need to be born with it. Which is technically… impossible. Especially since his mother would have been watching over and guiding his budding soul through the whole process as he would be formed. If anyone or anything tried to latch on and grow with his soul, she would have purged it immediately. That is the part that makes me wonder if it would be possible...”  
Emperor: “UNLESS OF COURSE, THAT SOMETHING MASQUERADES ITSELF AND LEECHES ON SO EARLY THAT IT WAS ALWAYS THERE. SO NOTHING WAS OFF IN THE FIRST PLACE. THAT IS MOST LIKELY HOW THE ASTRONOMICON BECAME EMBEDDED WITHIN HIM. THOUGH I DO NOT KNOW HOW FUTURE ME COULD HAVE DONE IT.”  
Magnus: “Normally I’d agree, Father, but there is the part where the Aeldari mother guides and watches over the soul from the very moment of conception to birth. She would know that soul from all the ins, outs, and beyond.”  
Emperor: “THERE IS ONE PART YOU MISS, HOWEVER. IF IT BECOMES INTEGRATED. SHE CAN’T DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT. HENCE-” *Points at screen* “-LIVING ASTRONOMICON. IT IS PROBABLY THAT ‘TUMOR’ THAT SHE FEELS.”  
Fulgrim: “But what about birth?”  
Emperor: “PARDON?”  
Fulgrim: “She said, ever since his birth. You two keep talking about it being there when she said ever since birth.”  
Emperor: “THE ASTRONOMICON COULDN’T HAVE LATCHED ITSELF ONTO HIM WHEN HE WAS BORN. HE WOULD DIE. HIS SOUL WOULD HAVE BEEN OVERWHELMED AND SIMPLY WOULD HAVE BEEN BLOWN OUT OF EXISTENCE. OTHER THINGS… PERHAPS. BUT IT WOULD BE PAINFUL. PAINFUL TO THE POINT WHERE I DOUBT THE CHILD WOULD EVEN SURVIVE. AND IF HE WOULD. IT WOULD  _ NOT _ BE A COMFORTABLE EXISTENCE LIKE THE ONE AEGIDIUS HAS. AS MAGNUS SAID, THE OTHER SOUL WOULD TEAR HIM APART, UNLESS IT SPECIFICALLY CRAFTED… MAYBE.”

A gentle knocking on the door awoke Yvraine from her thoughts even as it opened and in walked Cato Sicarius, the Marine that her husband had decreed as Aegidius’ caretaker. Her Aeldari hearing picked up on the faraway arguments between the Custodes and the Craftworld Farseers.  **Again** . She nodded to the Marine in greeting as she continued to run her fingers through her son’s hair.

“Captain. I assume you bring news while you interrupt my time with my son?” She jested lightly, not even looking at him as her eyes stayed glued to her precious boy.

“Indeed. Nothing urgent of course.” He answered with ease. He had learned that her barbs meant nothing, Eldar women apparently were just protective of their children. “Merely to update you on everything your son has done during your time away.”

She hummed, nodding as she held her son close to her.

“Physically, he has grown significantly since you last saw him. As you can see he has grown over six inches and has gained the appropriate amount of weight needed for his height.” She nodded, a hand going to gently pinch his chubby cheek. “Mentally, he has grown exponentially. He has blown through his studies and we have gathered that private tutoring will take up most of his studies since public schooling is now beneath his needs and his war studies will proceed at a much more accelerated rate. He still has not met his social quotas, but that is no longer a problem.”

“How so?”

“He has recently gained a cousin and friend, Young Lord Damien Curze. They have been playing and studying together when possible.”

Roboute: *Feels a grin growing on his face*  
Konrad: *Feels a scowl growing on his face*

She smirked, shaking her head. “And here I thought that man would never have a child. How funny.” Her eyebrows furrowed as she continued to gently glide her fingers through Aegidius’ hair, sending away a nightmare that was threatening to form in his sleep. “The boy isn’t anything like his father, is he?” She inquired, hoping he wasn’t going to be a bad influence on her son.

“Not at all. Damien is a sweet, kind boy and they compliment each other well. I recommend you ask Aegidius once he awakens.” Sicarius answered quickly, dispelling the notion. Even he could see that the interactions were good for his charge.

“Good. If that is true, then please allow more time for them to interact. It’s important Aegidius has a peer, compared to none.”

“Of course.” Sicarius nodded.

She smirked again, a laugh almost coming up. “So how much trouble did Aegidius get into while I was gone?”

“Not much this time. He continues to be impossibly clumsy and has broken around seventy-two bones over the last time you were here. Scrapes and bruises have been daily, even with the Custodes and myself watching him.”

Roboute: “Seventy-two!? Seventy-two bones!? How?! How is that possible!?”  
Jaghatai: “Drunk, angry little midgets.”  
Roboute: “He isn’t on Chogoris, Jaghatai! He isn’t riding a horse! He’s being kept safe inside the fortress with the Custodes themselves guarding over him!”  
Jaghatai: “Funny how you think children only break bones when outside on a horse. That shows you know almost nothing about the little angry midgets.”  
Roboute: “And you do  _ because?”  
_ Jaghatai: “Do you have any idea how many children there are on Chogoris? Especially with how open my world is, how we have a culture of sharing and open homes? Do you have any idea how many times I am attacked by hordes of children? I am around them most of my time on Chogoris, you cannot escape them. So might as well learn about them.”  
Angron: “I don’t give two shits about children. They run away from me anyway. But they do so from all of us. Transhuman dread and all that crap.”  
Emperor: “EXACTLY. SO WHY DON’T THE ONES ON CHOGORIS FEAR YOU?”  
Jaghatai: “I don’t know.”  
Roboute: “Are we all beginning to take the ‘Rogal’ way out of things now as an excuse?”  
Jaghatai: “...yes!”  
Rogal: “I had no inclination that there was a way to get out of verbal corners by using the same words and actions that I do and claim it as a… style.”

She nodded along sadly at that true unplanned part which left the apothecaries and healers baffled even now. Physically, nothing was supposed to impair her son. In fact, according to his genes, he should be much,  _ much _ more agile. Flowing in his walk and running pace better than an Eldar. Almost as good as a Primarch.

Yes, that was the rather harsh truth. The Emperor had made the Primarchs better than even the strongest farseers. To refer to them as Mon’keigh would be an insult to themselves. They were not only faster and stronger in every way. They flowed with such unmatched killing potential and grace that upon her husband’s awakening in his temple she was left stunned.

Emperor: *Leans back with a smug grin* “YES. I AM  _ THAT _ GOOD.”

Roboute Guilliman, supposedly the less warlike of his brothers, had strode into the Daemons and Chaos Space Marines like a Wraithbone weaver to his craft. Cutting and slashing and destroying with such efficiency that she suspected her escort even became envious. She admitted that now that… That may have been the first time she found she had seen a human as an equal.

Roboute: “Wait… really?”  
Ferrus: “Ah yes, that was when you punched a terminator through a marble column.”  
Lorgar: “And got so mad you became Angron for a second.”  
Roboute: “I… no, I think I got that mad when you, Lorgar, raided… nevermind. I’m too ha- more of… Pleased that she was impressed with me.”  
Vulkan: “Why?”  
Roboute: “I- I don’t know! It just feels nice…”

The sound of arguing on the other side of the door flared up for a second and yet again, she was reminded of why she had rushed back to Macragge with all due haste.

Aegidius’ powers had manifested. For the first actual time, his power was fully revealed. And it was  _ terrifying _ .

The raw energy of the Astronomicon blasting out of his body and opening a warp tear all the while summoning the “angels”, the protectors of the Astronomicon’s light had been a sight never before truly seen. It showed just how much potential he had.

But the cost and method of attaining it was wrong. Oh so wrong…

A Farseer lied dead because of it. Because he pushed when he should have waited and been patient. Pushing to see the extent of her son’s power when he should have just been observing what was shown now.

Emperor: *Slowly turns to Magnus* “VERY FAMILIAR DESCRIPTION.”  
Magnus: “...Yes, yes, it’s all my fault. Completely me. You had nothing to do with it. At all. It’s not like you didn’t tell me anything about why the Warp was dangerous, despite having plans to put me on the Golden Throne and make me your giant psychic beacon.”  
Emperor: “YOU KNOW THAT YOU WOULD HAVE TRANSCENDED IF YOU WOULD HAVE DONE THAT AT THE PROPER TIME RIGHT? BUT THOSE PLANS WENT FLYING RIGHT OUT THE WINDOW WHEN A CERTAIN SOMEONE SACRIFICED HIS RIGHT EYE TO A TUMOR IN THE WARP.”  
Magnus: “All because I was desperate and didn’t know there was a flying squid in the warp who has a lot of power and was the one who took me away from home.”  
Emperor: “SONNY. DO YOU FORGET ABOUT THE FACT THAT I WAS THERE THE WHOLE TIME? AND YOUR ADOPTIVE FATHER?”  
Magnus: “...okay fine. I was wrong. But at least admit you did some wrong too.”  
Emperor: “I SUPPOSE I COULD HAVE BEEN MORE CAREFUL.”  
Magnus: “Thank you!”  
Emperor: “SHOULD HAVE PUT THE SISTERS OF SILENCE AROUND YOUR GESTATIONS CAPSULE.”  
Magnus: “That… doesn’t make it… nevermind. That's as much of an apology as I’m ever going to get from you. I swear, no wonder you’re single.”  
Emperor: “TECHNICALLY I’M… YEAH.”

She sighed again as she fixed the positioning of Aegidius’ head, making sure that he was lying with his cheeks on her thighs, face pointing away from her in order for him to be comfortable.

“Tell of the incident.” She spoke then, in a more serious tone, causing Sicarius to stiffen unnoticeably to non-Aeldari eyes.

“There isn’t much to tell, my Lady,” Sicarius spoke earnestly. “When I entered the room, I found Aegidius surrounded by a golden glow, the Astronomicon’s light ceasing its projection to the sky. Later, the navigator's report stated that it never truly ceased. Just redirected for that fraction of a second. All I did was take ahold of him and get him to safety.”

She listened, then deliberated. Her boy was powerful, and she had a feeling it must be from that tumor upon his soul. It wasn’t his, it was always there and suddenly the Astronomicon sprung to life as soon as it appeared? She just knew it had something to do with all of this, but she didn’t have the information to build up her theory. For now, she could only focus on the here and now. And the here and now was that her son is exhausted, he did something great and strong, and now he was the subject of contention between her people and her husband’s people.  _ Again _ .

“What of the Custodes? His guardians. Do they still cling to him and keep the Craftworlders away?” She didn’t much care about the Custodes when they had first arrived. Believing the rumors of their strength and capabilities just that. Exaggerated rumors and Imperial propaganda.

She was pleasantly surprised when they said that they  _ wanted  _ to guard her son.

Emperor: “THEY VOLUNTEERED? THE SHIT?”  
Horus: “What would cause the Custodes to volunteer to watch over him?”  
Emperor: “I DON’T KNOW… MAYBE I ORDERED THEM BEFORE I DIED FOR SOME REASON?”  
Horus: “I don’t know. I’m still trying to figure out half of what you and Magnus were saying about souls and everything…”

She was less than pleasantly surprised when her husband agreed practically immediately, questioning his choice, and if truly they were the best guardians he could have?

The farseer with them at the time had quickly agreed and made his thoughts on the situation well known. Especially when he challenged the head of the Custodes to a duel to who would hold the honour of being the prince’s guardians.

The Custodes there had accepted on his Captain-General’s behalf. Citing that the Captain-General had expected this situation to develop.

So they had moved to the training arena.

And there, the Captain-General had arrived.

And her husband immediately began to… chuckle. Then even laugh!

She thought him gone mad. Something snapping in that brilliant mind of his.

But then she saw the Captain-General wipe out the farseer as if he wasn’t even there, doing so without even using a real weapon. Going so far as to use a training shock staff!

And then proceed to do so with an entire host of Aeldari warriors before he removed his helmet and declared himself Constantin Valdor returned. Come to serve his Emperor once more and his penance for failing to guard him so long ago, fulfilled.

Emperor: “HOLY SHIT. CONSTANTIN IS STILL ALIVE!”  
Leman: “YES! CONSTANTIN! Crazy bastard is still alive!”  
Lorgar: “But how did he know that Aegidius would be the new Emperor? Wasn’t he just born when he arrived?”  
Emperor: “I’M NOT CLAIMING TO KNOW EXACTLY WHAT MY FUTURE SELF ORDERED THEM TO DO ANYMORE.”

But the Emperor was dead. Obviously. Dead but not… gone.

His soul was somewhere, obviously. Otherwise, humanity would long ago have perished to the seething tides of the immaterium. If only she knew or had an idea of what the soul of the Emperor was like, so she could aid in the search.

Lorgar: “Wait… you're not actually gone?”  
Emperor: “I AM NOT THAT EASY TO KILL. YOU SHOULD KNOW THIS BY NOW.”  
Magnus: “Your soul, or at least a fragment of it, is still out there obviously. Question is where?”  
Emperor: “EVEN IF I KNEW, I HIGHLY DOUBT WE CAN FIND A WAY TO TELL THEM.”

“Yes, my Lady. They continue their vigilance around the young lord and protect him from all outside harm, outside the harm he inflicts on himself.” Sicarius answered, pride shining through him. Not many, if any Marines could ever boast on working so closely with the Custodes, after all.

“Good. I don’t want a single hair on my son’s head to be harmed. If I could, I’d slaughter all who meant him to harm myself… But I will settle for you and the Custodes to keep him safe.” It took more effort than she was prepared for to keep from baring her teeth at the idea of anyone hurting her precious offspring. “Anything else I must know about him? Or shall I ask him when he awakens?”

“Nothing else, at the moment.”

“Good. Then please, allow me time with my son.”

She listened as he left the chamber, leaving mother and son to sit together again. She was happy to have just a moment like this with her son. Worrying about him, caring for him, just having the moment with him. Knowing that every time she left him behind, she may not see him again.

Sometimes she worried that maybe he didn’t have as strong of a bond to her compared to what he should. Maybe if she had stayed behind and cared for him and stayed by his side, then maybe she would fix that. But if she did, then what of the Ynnari and their plans? They still had to figure out how to get the last Cronesword from the Palace of the Whore. Once they had that last Cronesword, then Ynnead would be summoned, he would finally be here to hopefully end the reign of She-Who-Thirsts... And there was still the full integration of the Aeldari into Human society and the countless gives and takes between both sides.

Or maybe she was worrying over nothing and he loved and cared for her as much as any Aeldari child would?

She just worried over him so much, ever since she first heard his cries and was separated from him for those two agonizing days. From birth to this very moment, she worried over him and still would worry over him even after.

There was a huge difference between an infant crying because they were born and were experiencing life, and the cries of an infant who was in true, unyielding pain.

She nearly gagged at the memory, curling more towards her boy. The memory of his birth was a terrible one, one that should have been one of happiness, of rejoice to finally have her son in her arms. But it was a memory of her son in the worst pain she could imagine, with him crying and writhing and turning and… Gods, her baby suffered so much. Ever since he took his first breath, she couldn’t access his soul anymore, she couldn’t fully utilize their bond, their connection, it was like… Like someone was strangling him.

Strangling him until he nearly died and had been separated from her for two agonizing days. Separated from her while he screamed in agony, screaming until he suddenly stopped, stopped and nearly was burnt out from the trauma. She made a vow to him that day when her son was finally in her arms and she saw the extent of damage done to him, how his own body was nearly burnt out, how his nerves were almost completely fried away. She vowed to him she would protect her precious boy.

She would do anything to protect him. If it meant she had to kill her own people to keep him safe, if it meant she had to damn planets to their bloody ends if it meant she had to take on the whole galaxy and beyond, she would do it without a second thought. She wasn’t able to help and protect her baby all that time ago, it killed her inside to know that. She would always carry the guilt that there was nothing she could have done to help him. So she will help him now. Now and forever.

Emperor: “WAIT. WHAT?”  
Magnus: “Ok… that is a tiny bit too far… I can stomach a lot, but... no...”  
Roboute: “Too… too much detail…”  
Magnus: “...Mortarion, you’re up.”  
Mortarion: “Why me!?”  
Magnus: “Cause you’re the Apothecary and apparently we look to you to figure out the biological side of everything. So do your thing.”  
Mortarion: “Normally I would say, sure, but no. Because THAT wasn’t physical! Nothing causes that much trauma! No disease, no type of mental imparity, nothing that I know of. This is  _ your _ area.”  
Magnus: “ _ My _ area!? Well… I suppose? The only thing I can think of that would nearly kill someone and nearly fry out their body like that would be…” *pauses and turns to the Emperor* “...Do you think he was soul bound?”  
Emperor: “I MEAN… POSSIBLY. I’M NOT SURE… HE TECHNICALLY WOULDN’T HAVE SURVIVED AT ALL. AND IF HE DID, THERE WOULD BE  _ SEVERE _ CONSEQUENCES LIKE GOING BLIND OR A SEVERE MUTATION.”  
Magnus: “But he is half Aeldari and half Primarch, and apparently from what we saw earlier and deducted, the Astronomicon appeared after he was born. Going through a soul binding at birth, suddenly having the Astronomicon there, and now that I think about it, it would explain how he doesn’t really feel any physical pain… I just feel as if we are missing a crucial piece of information here!”  
Sanguinius: “Then how about we talk less and watch more!?”  
Magnus: “But there are multiple things we need to talk abo-”  
Sanguinius: “DO IT AFTER THE VID I SWEAR!”

She loved her son. And she had a feeling her husband did just as much.

And then the door opened again and she looked up to see who would  **dare** to interrupt on  **her** private time with  **her** son.

Only to see an unarmoured Roboute Guilliman, standing there in all of his tired splendor in his Ultramarian uniform.

It seemed, the second part of her questions would soon be answered.

**...  
** **204.M42 - The Warp,** **_???  
_ ** **...**

Sanguinius: “WHAT!? WHY ARE WE GOING HERE!?”

“By the Helwinters of Fenris, DAMN YE BACK TO WHATEVER HELL YE CRAWLED OUT OF!” Was the cry of fury that came from Leman Russ as he hacked a daemon apart with his sword, with another coming to fill the now empty space which died to a bolt shot from one of his sons. “How long until yer fix the fracking Gellar fields!?” He yelled into the vox link, all the while holding onto and keeping Freya out of harm’s way with one hand even as his other held onto the sword of Banelight.

Leman: “...am I in the thick of battle, lost in the warp again while holding onto my daughter in one arm and fighting daemons with the other?”  
Rogal: “Yes.”

“Almost my lord! Just need to reroute power!”

“Well hurry it up!” He demanded, even as his sword cleaved through another Daemon, sending it back screaming into the warp.

By the snows of Fenris, how did this go so  _ horribly _ wrong?! He was just trying to travel from Fenris to Macragge, maybe show Freya a bit more about being a good leader when it all went wrong!

They were en route to Macragge when something happened to the Astronomicon! The damn thing flickered, blinding the navigator just long enough that he managed to guide them off course! The damn Navigator was screeching about “angels” and while panicking, they were now stuck in the middle of the fracking WARP and fighting for their lives with their Gellar field down! The fracking Navigator overloaded it in his bout of mania!

Magnus: “Oh… so that’s what it caused…”  
Ferrus: “Well, with him being the Astronomicon, of course it would affect other people.”  
Leman: “I can’t believe I’m lost in the warp  **again** !”  
Emperor: “YES OF COURSE. BUT NOT TO THIS LEVEL. IT WAS MERELY A FLICKER. THE NAVIGATOR MUST HAVE BEEN UN-EXPERIENCED.”  
Leman: “I swear! I spend more time in the warp than the nerd does!”  
Magnus: “Father is probably right on this one, the Navigator must have just gotten confused and steered the ship out of the warp current.”  
Leman: “Frak all of you.”  
Emperor: “HMM? DID YOU SAY SOMETHING, LEMAN?”  
Leman: “FRAK YOU TOO!”

In the arm of Leman, Freya held onto her da with everything her little body had. She couldn’t even scream as she looked at the monsters that appeared in their ship, only bury her face into her da’s armor and hope it would all be over. She hated how she was so small, so weak, so useless! She was too much of a baby to help! She was too much of a baby that she ended up holding her Da’ back...

It was damn near impossible to get a good look at what was even happening on the bridge, it was a mess of Wolves, Daemons, blood, weapons, and screams of either death, anger or fear from the rest of the crew. But worst of all, he was fighting with a handicap. He had to keep Freya in his arm, if he left her anywhere she would be vulnerable! And if he moved too quickly or wasn’t careful enough she could get hit. A single hit and she’d be gone-

Then he felt as Freya slipped from his grasp.

Reeling around, he spotted the feathered, bird looking Daemon with an outstretched hand, muttering incantations in some language and using what looked to be Telekinesis to draw Freya to him. The little girl fought against it, but was unable to break the hold and only cried out to her Da’ with a howl of her own.

Leman: “Freya!”  
Horus: “Oh shit…”

He used his other hand to reach for his bolter. But by the time he had it aimed at the daemon, it would have been far too late. Leman’s hearts skipped a beat...

Suddenly, over a ton of fur, razor sharp claws and fanged jaws slammed into the Daemon. Tearing it limb from limb in a matter of seconds before running over to Freya and making her stay behind it.

“Good job Freki!” Leman praised the Blackmaned Wolf, even as he slashed through yet another daemon spawn. How much more fracking time before the fields were back up!?

Leman: “OH THANK THE ALLFATHER FREKI IS STILL ALIVE THAT BASTARD OF A WOLF!”  
Emperor: “NO PROBLEM SONNY.”  
Leman: “YOU KNOW WHAT I MEANT!”  
Konrad: “Just wait.”

Then more of the neverborn spawned and rushed directly for Freya.

They didn’t get far. The ancient Wolf pounced with unnatural speed and strength. Tearing off limbs as easily as if they were paper, biting through flesh as easily as softened foods.

But he wasn’t fast enough…

“Freki!” Freya cried out, her voice full of desperation as a daemon's claws raked against Freki’s rear thigh, causing the creature to let out a yelp before the daemon was swiftly demolished with bolter fire. She quickly covered her ears from the deafening sound of the roaring guns, eyes screwed shut, but she peeked back at Freki, hoping the old wolf wasn’t...

Leman: “DAMMIT ALL KONRAD!”  
Konrad: “You’re welcome.”  
Leman: “That wolf is my brother Konrad! I swear, if something-”

“Gellar field online!” A cry suddenly came from the helm even as the neverborn were dragged screaming back to whence they came with the fury of the Space wolves chasing them back out until not a single one of the filth were on their ship any longer.

“Thank Fenris! You’re alright lass!” Russ felt his muscles relax as he ran over and checked his daughter for any injuries. He hugged her to him, truly grateful that she had managed to escape without even a scratch.

Freya hugged her da as hard as she could, her heart pounding from the fear of battle, the frustration, and simple sensory overload. Then she remembered and quietly spoke up, “Da’, Frekis’ hurt...” She wanted to squeeze herself out of his grip and run to the now barely moving wolf, but she was afraid of letting her father go after everything that happened.

It was lying down, looking exhausted and panting with all its might.

“Rune Priest!” Russ demanded, and not even a second later, a Rune Priest hurried to the front and was kneeling by the black-maned wolf’s side. Freya was lowered to the ground and the little girl was able to still hold onto her da, but now could comfort Freki as well as she could.

“What’s wron’ with ‘im?” Freya demanded, going to the wolf's head, as big as her entire body, and petting the wolves whimpering head and nose. Her tiny hands were unable to do much to help the old companion.

The Rune Priests Narthecium scanned the wound, before eliciting a loud jarring beep. “Poison.” The Rune Priest swore, beginning to take some amulets and bones hanging off of his armour, applying them to the wound while uttering a chant.

Leman: “Oh no… no no no…”

“Can’t yer bandage it? Or draw out the poison?” Leman asked with escalating worry. Freki was with him for his entire life. It was a miracle that he was so drawn to Freya even though they shared the same blood. But if he needed to let the old wolf go…

“No Lord Russ.” The Rune priest spoke, even as he reached for some foul smelling oils that would make even the hardiest of the Rout retch. “It isn’t a physical wound.”

“Can yer save him?”

The Rune Priest poked about the wound for a bit, causing the wolf to growl in pain before being comforted by his tiny master. “Perhaps… we need to get him to Macragge as soon as possible. The Librarians there can help me.”

Leman: *Lets out a deep breath* “Thank Fenris…”  
Fulgrim: “I wonder if this trip will scar Freya…”

Leman turned to the helm. “Get the damn navigator to get us underway as soon as bloody possible and get us to Macragge!”

A chorus of ayes was his answer. He didn’t much care for them at the moment however as his attention once again turned back to his oldest companion who’s massive head was being cradled by his daughter.

Why did everything have to go to utter shite whenever he needed to travel?! For helvete's sake…

**...  
Macragge,** **_Fortress of Hera  
_ ** **...**

Aegidius at the moment began to squirm in his mother’s lap. The headache he was suffering from and the unknown pain made him uncomfortable. He couldn’t stop seeing ships… ships stuck in the tides of the warp in his mind, despite being given a dreamless sleep...

Yvraine quickly soothed him, angry that her son kept having moments like this where he was hurt or scared or suffering or-

She swore, she was going to find out how to give her son peace.

“Is he alright?” She heard her husband ask, he was closer now. His approach un-noticed since she was so busy worrying over their son.

“I am merely soothing him. He has been having a terrible headache and I am giving him the peaceful rest he needs and deserves.” She paused, wondering if telling him everything was the right thing to do… According to their human ceremony, she was supposed to be truthful to him so… “His soul has been… strained.”

Magnus: “Yeah… I wonder why…”

He quickly kneeled down beside her, she had been sitting on a set of cushions on the floor with their son. Cushions were so easy, she didn’t understand why everyone had to have a chair for everything, human customs she supposed… He checked over their son, worry evident on his face. “How bad? Is he in pain? Has anything happened to him?”

“No. No, he’s fine now. I calmed him down.” She relaxed, letting him come closer. If it had been anyone else other than him, she would have bared her teeth and growled at them to get back. Well, there were others on a short list who were allowed close to him, but that was beside the point. “He’s asleep.”

The Primarch appeared to relax slightly at that. “Good.”

She glanced at him, looking him over. “I assume your armor is being repaired?”

He slowly nodded. “First opportunity I got to finally shed it in… years. I haven’t had it off since Aegidius was born.”

“I do recall a few times it was off before he was born, you know. How else would he be here?” She snorted at him, cracking a smile at him.

Roboute: *Chokes on the cup of water that he is drinking*  
Vulkan: “Oh no.”  
Jaghatai: “Father, please skip.”  
Emperor: “YEAH, NO. I’M NOT WATCHING YOU TWO FLIRTING WITH EACH OTHER. MAGOS!”  
Lehm: “Of course, Omnissiah.”

The projector didn’t stop or skip.

Emperor: “VERY FUNNY, MAGOS. NOW PLEASE, SKIP.”  
Lehm: *Presses the rune a few times, but nothing is happening* “O-Omnissiah… I am scared.”  
Emperor: “LEHM, PLEASE SKIP-”

“That is- not my point!” He spoke in a slightly louder tone, before mellowing down. “I am sorry… the stress is getting to me these days. I recognized it as a jest, I merely…” He waved a hand, knowing the emotions he was feeling unexplainable to one of her kind.

“Forgive me, I tried to lighten the mood.” Her smile didn’t drop but did lessen as she looked him over again. “You are radiating stress, which is to be expected. I assume you came here to see him as well?”

Emperor: “OH WAIT, NO, CRISIS AVERTED. NO FLIRTING.”  
Roboute: “Usually I would say you’re being childish, but… I don’t want my private life being shown to everyone here…”

He looked down at their son, sleeping so peacefully in his mother's lap and allowed a small grin to appear on his tired face. “I have indeed.” He ran his much coarser fingers through his son's curled hair, causing Aegidius to shift closer to them subconsciously. “I do not spend nearly enough time with him these days… I am a terrible father.”

She nodded, that tender look on her face returning as she gently scratched behind Aegidius’ ear. “Neither do I. Trust me, you are not a terrible father. If anything, by Aeldari standards… I am a terrible mother. I have often wondered if my absence hurts him more than he shows. Sometimes I wonder if he has bonded to me enough… Since I cannot peer into his soul…”

“Do not speak such nonsense, Yvraine.” Guilliman chided gently. “You are as good of a mother as you can be. He is obviously utterly taken with you… and me.” He sighed. “And one day I am going to have to take him to war… this boy of ours who I can remember learning how to walk and talk as if it were merely yesterday.”

Roboute: *Groans uncomfortably at that realization*  
Magnus: *Wants to comfort him but stays silent, since now is not the time*  
Fulgrim: Wants to be there, but is worrying about his own problems*  
Jaghatai: *Wondering why he is so concerned, it wasn’t that bad once it happened*  
Lion: *Wondering why the fuck he is not training the kid more than he is now*

“Time is a terrible mistress, isn’t she? He’s still so young, if he were full Aeldari, he’d still be learning all about that, he’d still be having trouble with speaking, with walking. Everything does feel as if it is passing too quickly.” She smoothed some of his hair from his face, “How long until he is taken? I still have trouble figuring out how humans age.”

Guilliman took a deep breath before letting out an even deeper sigh. “If the circumstances will allow it… no sooner than fifteen… otherwise… a few years.”

“Fifteen!?” She stopped herself from shrieking at that, doing the math in her mind, she didn’t like the numbers she came up with. “He will barely be older than two cycles! He’d still be… I mean… I don’t…” She trailed off, letting out a growl of frustration. She hated how complicated this gets.

“Time is a terrible mistress.” Her husband spoke, echoing her words from before. “The one advantage to him being part Primarch is that by the age of fifteen if the Apothecaries are correct, his genes will finish driving him to an equivalent of twenty five standard Terran years of age. Along with the Astartes organs that he already has inside of him, they will fully mature at that age.”

“He shouldn’t have to go through all of that. Then again, he shouldn’t have to live in a time like this where we can barely be with him, aren’t there to guide him and can barely feed him.” She let out a long suffering sigh. “If only I could have found the last one, then maybe our enemies would be lessened. But it’s somewhere I can’t get to by myself… I’m sorry.”

“Do not be. It was an inevitability. Father always was going to die at some point or another. Of course, it happened exactly at the worst time possible. Old bastard almost took his Empire to an early grave.” Guilliman scoffed, a frown now appearing on his face, before softening yet again as he looked at Aegidius. “And to think I promised myself that I would be a better father than that bitter, spiteful, ungrateful creator of an Emperor.”

Emperor: *Sputters but then realizes they already went over this once*

“You are. From everything you have talked about and what little I do know, you definitely are better than him. For one thing, you actually remember our son’s name.” She chuckled slightly, enjoying her own jest. “There is nothing wrong with feeling some anger towards our situation.”

“Anger?” Guilliman asked with a dangerous edge surrounding his harmonious voice. “I am not angry at my father, Yvraine. I am  _ furious. _ And if I ever get my hands on him or have a chance to talk to him ever again, I am going to give him a piece of my mind.”

She nodded, “Forgive me. I’m not trying to lessen your feelings on him. Merely trying to…” She searched for the right word, her ears rotating just slightly as she thought. “... empathize.” She nodded again, “Yes, empathize.”

He nodded back in appreciation. “I suppose you don’t have much to compare it with… so thank you. I appreciate the notion.” He smiled slightly. “You know, all this time we spend separate from one another makes me forget that I do genuinely enjoy your company.”

Jaghatai: “Smooth.”  
Emperor: “MAGOS… PRESS THE SKIP RUNE. PLEASE.”  
Lehm: “I AM TRYING OMNISSIAH BUT THE MACHINE SPIRIT REFUSES TO LISTEN!”  
Ferrus: “Let me try and talk to it! Anything to not watch this!”  
Roboute: *Sliding down his throne slightly, trying to hide his face*

She went a little red in the cheeks, ears rotating to capture as much of his voice as possible. She doubted he knew the little ticks she showed. “That’s agreeable. And here I thought you’d have war be your mistress when away from me.” She had no idea why she just felt the need to jest when near him, it made little to no sense. But here she went, another just slipping out. She stiffened when she felt Aegidius snuggle her, suddenly aware that she has their son in her lap.

“I never liked war.” Her husband was quick to respond. “One day, even during the Great Crusade itself, I had hoped that it would be all over so that I could finally retire and govern Ultramar. To see it truly prosper. Maybe even truly settle, get married, have a family…” He let out a mirthless chuckle at the irony of it all. “It appears that I traded. The war only needs me more.” He reached out with a coarse hand, flowing gracefully before trailing it over his wife’s cheek all the while looking in between her and their peacefully sleeping son. “But… I govern Ultramar, and I have a wonderful son and a beautiful wife. Perhaps fate has a cruel sense of humour.”

Ferrus: “Oh… it’s… IT’S REFUSING TO SKIP!?”  
Emperor: “WHAT!?”  
Jaghatai: “Again brother… surprisingly  _ smooth _ .”  
Roboute: “Thank you, Jaghatai… I really don’t want this to be shown, though…”  
Lehm: “YES OMNISSIAH! IT’S REFUSING TO SKIP!”  
Emperor: "FERRUS PLEASE YOU'RE OUR LAST HOPE!"  
Ferrus: "I will try, Father!"

She wanted to retort but fell silent when she felt his hand on her cheek. She didn’t want to comment on how her soul and heart pounded when he got closer, and how it settled into a calm state when contact was made. Maybe her mother had been right, everything did change when you have made a vow of eternal partnership with someone… She had to calm herself, before speaking, not focus on how she quite liked feeling his hand on her flesh. Could he feel how hot she felt? “If it is cruel, then perhaps it can be forgiving.” She swallowed, knowing it was a coincidence that she leaned a bit closer to his touch. “Ever since I was young, I didn’t think I’d ever find an eternal partner, or settle down. I saw it as something that would drain away my independence. Yet here I am, proven wrong. I have an amazing son who I love with all my heart, and a husband who I...” She trailed off, her face getting a bit too hot. How did she describe these feelings without a full psychic link and the limits of Imperial High Gothic?

Her husband smiled wearily. “I am not going to supplement the word, though there is one that might describe how you feel.” He let out a chuckle. “Though, there is an action which too exists in the culture of the Aeldari and requires no words to be spoken.”

She looked down, back to their sleeping son. “He is right there.” She supplied, suddenly feeling a little giddy when his voice got like that.

Emperor: “YES! HE IS RIGHT  _ THERE!  _ DON’T DO IT!”

“Oh, I am not thinking of that type of intimacy.” He supplied, leaning in slightly closer.

Ferrus: “Oh thank the Machine Spirit for Roboute’s impotence with women…”  
Roboute: "Excuse you!"

“Excuse me for not… immediately knowing… what…” She trailed off, even more, her senses going slightly haywire as she felt his breath getting closer to her. She didn’t enjoy the idea of kissing, but… Well… It wasn’t  **so** bad with him… She needed more practice to have a better idea on it and to have a better judgement of- oh… screw it!

The Family collectively: “ **NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!”  
** Roboute:  **"ALL OF YOU ARE CHILDREN!"  
** Magnus:  **"Petty children."**

She closed the distance between them, feeling his lips come into contact with her own. She felt that shiver ran through her body as that bolt of pleasure ran through her, her senses being overwhelmed with him. They felt rough, yet soft, as if he was waiting for the life giving water after crossing through a desert planet.

He certainly reciprocated and acted like it though. He held her close to him, drinking in the touch and feeling of having her with him. She was impossibly soft to the touch, unlike anything he had ever felt in his life before meeting her. The two of them molded perfectly, lips moving together in a type of dance that could easily become softer, more intense, or even erotic if they so wished.

It felt as if she was drowning, drowning in the feeling of him and her and-

Shit, she had Aegidius on her lap!

But this felt so good… maybe they could leave him sleeping-

The door to Aegidius’ room was suddenly flung open, two guardsmen quickly rushing in, followed by Cato Sicarius and multiple Custodes.

Emperor: “I NEVER THOUGHT I WOULD EVER SAY THIS IN MY ENTIRE LIFE BUT… THANK FUCK FOR CATO SICARIUS!”  
Angron: "Thank you Cunto Shitarius."

“My lord, I apologize for the disturbance, but these guardsmen-” Began Sicarius, only to wheel to an absolute and sudden stop along with the rest of the people when they saw their Primarch and his wife sucking face over their comatose son.

The two pulled away just a small amount, almost able to fall back in with a single gesture. They did look over Roboute’s shoulder, spying the people who barged in. Maybe if they send them away, and find a way to get Aegidius to stay asleep, they could-

“Roboute Guilliman.” Spoke a  _ frighteningly _ familiar voice at a time he wanted the least to hear it. The Primarch took a deep breath and turned around to face the man that, **of course** , would ruin everything.

Roboute: “Wait a second… that can’t be…”

“Eldrad Ulthran.”

Roboute: “Oh shit… it is…”

**...  
Shrine World Laphis, ** **_Guardsmen outpost  
_ ** **...**

Sanguinius: "Ah, and here we see how Eldrad came into all of this."

“Hey, Lucius!” The guardsman from outside the checkpoint yelled at his friend. “Rations are here!”

Lucius, who was lying down on his bunk in the two man outpost in the remote wastes of the Shrine world of Laphis. Guarding a completely unused webway portal.

Lucius liked it here, and his buddy did too. They both requested for a transfer immediately after seeing the…  _ incident _ of a boy climbing the wall in the dead of the night, they took the most remote, safest, and most boring post they could find listed.

No one wanted it for that very reason. No action. No chances of promotion. Low pay. An absolute dead end for anything even resembling a military career.

Angron: “Pussies.”  
Corvus: “Now hold on. Maybe they have an alternative reason as to why they joined up.”

However, Titus and Lucius joined up simply because they were promised food, clothing, and shelter above their heads. Both having grown up orphans on the streets of Macragge Magnas Civitas.

Corvus: “See?”  
Angron: "Still call them pussies."

And they got all of that here.

With no family to support, and no friends aside from each other. It was  _ perfect _ .

“What did they send?” Lucius asked, now walking out of the tiny building.

“Oh well, let's see here,” Titus spoke even as he slammed the container down and pried off the lid. “Ohoho… ration bars like always and… oh, holy Emperor- recaff!”

Perking up, Lucius spied the ration, smiling at the most holiest and loved of all rations. Recaff. The blood and spirit of any guardsman. “Oh fucking amazing.” Lucius laughed as he grabbed a packet and went inside to hastily set some water to boil. Life was good.

“Make it strong! I got the bars.” Titus added on as he joined Lucius in the tiny building, sitting down on his bunk and opening two gray looking bars of tasteless nutrients.

“Oh yeah, don’t worry. Three packets.”

Sangunius: “I don't see Eldrad here, just Guardsmen! Why are we watching this again? Why didn’t we stay at the Fortress of Hera!? All the important stuff is there!”  
Emperor: “CALM DOWN SANGUINIUS. I’M SURE THAT WE WILL FIND OUT SOON… I’M JUST HAPPY WE MOVED AWAY FROM THAT GOD AWFUL SCENE WITH-”  
Roboute: “It’s not like  **I** had a choice in that too you know!”  
Emperor: "YOU WERE INTO IT, HUSH."

“Fuck. Never thought I would be happy about joining up with the guard. A month of training hell. All worth it.” Titus rubbed his hands together even as Lucius brought over the recaff in two separate metal cups and they both dunked the ration bars in the recaff. Knowing that they were  _ way _ too hard to just eat.

Roboute: “A month? A MONTH… HOW!? I? How did the standards drop this low…”  
Horus: “I think that is something we are better off not pondering about, lest we want to keep our sanity.”  
Lion: "That could account for a lot that happens in these vids, you know."

“These better than the last ones?” Lucius asked, knowing that the previous ones needed to be soaked for an entire hour before they could even bite off a piece.

“Quartermaster said that they are martian stock. Though the dating on it doesn’t give me hope.” Titus answered with a slight shudder.

“Really? How bad?”

“Thirty-first millennium bad. Really scraping the bottom.”

Lucius stared at them, looking from different angles as he tried to figure out if they were safe or not. “They are still edible? Hard to believe that…”

“Well, unless your dainty ass wants to go forage, the Quartermaster said that they won’t kill us.”

Family: *Slowly turn to Morty*  
Mortarion: “... how the fuck am I supposed to know? I’m not the ration expert!”  
Perturabo: "Yeah, but how would a person's-"  
Mortarion: "IT GOES WITHOUT SAYING TO NOT EAT EXPIRED RATIONS, THAT'S COMMON SENSE!"  
Emperor: "AH YES, THE ELUSIVE SUPERPOWER OF COMMON SENSE. AMAZING."

Okay fine, he had a point. And foraging wasn’t the best job in the galaxy. Why did Titus have to be the voice of reason, it was usually him.

“Ah well, chin up,” Titus spoke up. “We still got the recaff.”

“That we do!” The two clanged their cups together in celebration. It was the little things that made the best memories after all.

They brought the cups of steaming, delicious recaff to their lips. The scent tingling in their noses as they tipped and tasted-

**_BANG!_ **

...and now their cups fell out of their hands, the recaff spilling around their feet. They both wondered how their luck could possibly have caused something else that was completely weird and crazy to happen around them again.

“What the fuck was that noise?” Titus groaned, looking after his spilled recaff.

“Me, I’m afraid.” A voice as soft and smooth as silk spoke from the entrance of their outpost and the two turned to see an Eldar, dressed in black and white wraithbone armour and wielding a staff.

Emperor: “SEE SANGUINIUS? OUR PATIENCE WAS REWARDED!”  
Horus: “In all fairness, it was only after seeing the height of just how far the Imperium’s standards have fallen.”  
Lorgar: "Only place we can go now is up."

The two Guardsmen glanced to each other, then back to the Eldar, then back to them, going back and forth so much they began to get dizzy until they had to grab each other to steady each other. They may have spun in place, but only they and the Eldar knew that if it was even true. Once steadied, they wrapped an arm around each other and turned away, whispering to each other.

“Lucius! Is that one of those Crafting Eldar!?” Titus quickly spoke to his friend who poked his head out from their little huddle to look back at the Eldar, who was waiting for their shenaniganry to end.

Magnus: “Did-did he just say ‘crafting’ Eldar? The fuck…”  
Jaghatai: “To be fair to the guardsman, they most likely didn’t receive the best education.”  
Roboute: “One  _ fucking _ month…”

“Uhhh… I think so. Did you mean that as a singular or plural, though?” Lucius dived back into their huddle.

“Wait what? Are you sure? Are there more!?”

Lucius poked his head from the huddle again, the Eldar waving at them lightly. Behind him seemed to be a small group of them behind him. He dived back into the huddle, “Yeah, I think that’s plural.”

“Oh, my Emperor!” Titus panicked a bit, he was trying to figure out if it was the crafting Eldar or the spiky Eldar they weren’t or were friends with. “Is… Is that a Crafting Eldar?”

“There is no such thing as a Crafting Eldar, humans, just Craftworlders and Bone Singers if you want to be specific.” The Eldar spoke up, unsure if he should be amused with their antics.

Lucius ignored the Eldar and looked him over a few times before going back to Titus, “Yes.”

“Oh, my Emperor!” Titus cried out, holding onto Lucius and freaking out, “I thought this was supposed to be a worry free, no work involved, nothing weird happens post!?”

The Eldar sighed, these two idiots weren’t even listening or caring he was there, were they?

Emperor: “... I HAVE NO WORDS.”  
Leman: *Is beginning to see the funny side*  
Roboute: "I just hope we don't see them again."  
"Seeing as how,"  
"This is the second time,"  
"We have seen them."  
Horus: "What do you mean?"  
"They were watching,"  
"The fortress wall,"  
"When Damien,"  
"Climbed it."  
Horus: "Oh. Oh, they might come back then…"  
Roboute: "What!?"  
“The vid.”  
“Pointed that out.”  
“But you.”  
“Weren’t paying attention.”  
Roboute: "I hate you both."

“Well fuck, we’re in the guard now man, we gotta do something!”

“Shit well… technically that gate is supposed to be inactive.”

“We gotta bring this to the higher ups.”

“Yeah, we do. Call it in.”

Horus: “Oh shit, they are actually getting it together.”

“I think they finally may have got it together.” A bone singer leaned into the farseer and whispered, causing the farseer to slowly nod.

Lucius turned around, grabbed his lasgun and spoke. “Hi. I’m Lucius and… Welcome to Imperium Secundus. How can I help you?” Oh for fuck's sake, he panicked and said something a common orator would say to another on a vox call!

One of the Bone singers outright lost it, unable to be around these humans for much longer. The sounds coming from inside the helmet were either muffled laughter or the snapping of patience. The farseer appeared to be less inflicted.

Horus: *Facepalms* “Ughhhh…”  
Leman: *Actually cracking up*

“I am Eldrad Ulthean. Farseer of Craftworld Ulthwe.” The farseer spoke. “I have come to talk to Roboute Guilliman, my old friend and trusted acquaintance. Now, please, stop pointing the lasguns at us before I chop off your arms. We mean you no harm.”

“Sorry, sir, bit of a habit,” Titus spoke up, putting his lasgun away. But he did wonder if it was true. Not many people could say they’re friends with Guilli- WAIT HOLD ON! “Hold on, are you sure you’re not lying or-?”

Lucius smacked Titus’ head, “what are you doing!? Don’t make them angry! Speak appropriately and with tact. You need to show that you aren’t a complete pushover.” Lucius cleared his throat before turning to Eldrad yet again. “You wouldn’t happen to mean the Lord Regent would you?”

Horus: “At least they have a modicum of respect and decorum…”

“I would. Though his title and position was Lord Commander last we met. However, he was always the ruler of this realm.”

“Of course, of course, we shall immediately-” Lucius stopped mid-sentence. Realizing that the Farseer DID, in fact, refer to THAT Roboute Guilliman. He slowly turned to Titus. “We need to go to headquarters…”

Horus: “No way… no way did they FINALLY get it…”  
Roboute: “I think it’s annoying you more than it is me at this point.”

The Bone singer leaned towards Eldrad once again. “By Isha’s beauty… I think they somehow figured it out.”

**…**

Lucius let out a deep groan and felt himself sag against the wall even as Titus did the same on the opposite end of the door they were guarding.

They had successfully managed to convince headquarters to send the necessary transport after reporting that in fact, yes, the webway portal had activated, yes, the Eldar were there, and yes, the rations were completely fine and couldn’t cause a hallucinogenic effect. Despite how old they were.

Now they were forced to guard the door while the lieutenant of the garrison talked to the Eldar and supposedly arranged transport back to Macragge for them.

Lucius and Titus meanwhile were simply eager to get back to their remote outpost and brew up another pot of recaff. But  **no** ! They had to guard the  _ door _ , because there weren’t  **thousands** of other guardsman manning the base-

The door suddenly opened and out walked the Lieutenant along with the party of Eldar.

“Ah, guardsman Titus and Lucius.” The two guardsmen in question glanced at each other, dopey looks on their faces, “You two are hereby relegated to escort duty of the Eldar party back to Macragge. You are to see to their safe arrival, and then report the news directly to Lord Guilliman should he wish it as such. Afterwords report to the guard headquarters of Macragge for retasking. Congratulations guardsman, there might be awards for your efforts.”

Titus began to let out a small cry, shoulders shaking as he doubled over crying into his hands. Lucius patted his back, tempted to cry as well.

The Lieutenant sniffed happily, “Always happy to see that there are guardsmen out there who take their duties to heart like you two!”

Corvus: “Oh no…”  
Konrad: “What?”  
Corvus: “Something tells me that the commander is going to misinterpret most of their actions…”  
Leman: "I FUCKING HOPE SO!"

Titus began to cry harder at that. So hard in fact that the lieutenant came over and put a hand on his shoulders. “Your patriotism is inspiring guardsman Titus. And a model of behavior to others. I shall personally send word of your accomplishments ahead to Macragge headquarters.”

“No…” Lucius groaned out between his own sobs now coming up. There goes his hopes of him and Titus having a peaceful service.

“And humble as well.” The lieutenant nodded in approval even as a Valkyrie powered up in the distance.

Corvus: “... or all of them.”  
Leman: *Rolling on the floor laughing at the unfortunate fates of the two guardsmen*  
Angron: "THAT'S WHAT YOU GET IF YOU RUN FROM THE FRONT LINES ASSHOLES!"

**...  
Macragge, ** **_The Fortress of Hera  
_ ** **...**

Guilliman stood then, raising himself fully to his considerable height and towering over everyone in the room. In the eyes of the Eldar, they did not miss his stance and how he stood as a wall for his family.

“I assume you have come here for a reason?” He asked then.

Eldrad reached up and removed his helmet, showing his surprisingly tired looking face. “I  _ reluctantly _ have come to evoke the Treaty of Eden and… ask for asylum in your realm.”

Roboute: "Treaty of Eden? Is that what it's called?"  
Emperor: "REALLY.  **_REALLY_ ** . REALLY GOING FOR THE FULL SYMBOLISM, AREN'T THEY? GARDEN OF EDEN MY ASS. GOING SO FAR AS, JUST… UGH."  
Roboute: “What? Who? What are you talking about!? Eden is the name of a moon in Ultramar. The treaty was most likely signed there because it is on the outskirts.”  
Rogal: “Father. Are you already going senile in your old age?”  
Emperor: "FUCK THE UP SHUT ROGAL!"  
Rogal: "That made no sense-"  
Emperor: "PERTURABO!"  
Perturabo: *Smacks Rogal*

Guilliman nodded at this, turning back to his family behind him. Spying on his sleeping son and his wife who was fanning herself, he made the decision to move this meeting. “Follow me, then. I assume you are quite aware of how angry Eldar mothers get when anyone interrupts their child’s sleep.”

Eldrad looked by Guilliman then and spotted the Prophet of Ynnead along with their surrogate offspring. He did have to have a moment of pause, as he noticed how the child’s soul shone beyond brightly. “Indeed.” He said, nonchalantly. “Let us move to a place more adequate for our negotiations.”

He led them from the chamber, Roboute did sneak a glance back at Yvraine and Aegidius, watching how serene they looked. Almost as if tempting him to go back and forget negotiations. He turned away and continued on, leading the Eldar entourage and… Apparently a pair of guardsmen as well?

Horus: “Oh fuck, they came along!?”  
Leman: *Full on chuckling again* “I fookin’ love these two.”

As they walked the halls, he saw how the other members of the entourage studied their surroundings. Many appeared to scoff or dismiss the things going on around them, no doubt they were criticizing the culture and architecture… again, like all craftworlders before them. Why couldn’t they be more like their exodite cousins? Accepting and simply grateful to be alive and have shelter?

After walking down the hall, they arrived in the dining hall in which all present Primechildren took their meals. It was lavish and big enough to host the craftworlders without offending or demeaning them.

“Please.” Guilliman pointed to the chairs surrounding the tables even as he sat at the head on a massive throne sized chair himself.

The Eldar delegation did so, however, the two Guardsman came by after arguing about who would report to him apparently. The one with the blonde hair stepped forwards before saluting. “Lord Regent, we have been ordered to report to you under the command of Lieutenant Dorax of the Shrine World, Laphis. Main garrison.”

Roboute turned un-interestingly at them. “Indeed. And what about?”

“About how the Eldar delegation came through the webway gate, sir-my lord.” The blonde one continued to speak even as Guilliman sighed and looked back at said delegation. He was about to dismiss the two even as an aide came and whispered into his ear about the two Guardsman's lieutenant sending a hymnal of how patriotic and dutiful the two apparently were.

Horus and Roboute: *Facepalm*

“Sir, news, the Shrine World took a hit from a trail of Daemons following the Eldar host. It has been dealt with by a nearby Squad of Ultramarines. However, the garrison there has been hit heavily, particularly the NCO’s and below, and is being rotated back here to Macragge in order to refit and refill its ranks.”

Guilliman nodded along, before glancing at the two guardsmen who were still standing at attention. Though he did not know it, the two were torn between sighing in relief at leaving the warzone before it got worse, and the idea that they were about to be given a worse assignment.

“A lack of NCO’s you say?”

“Yes my lord.”

Horus: “Brother…  _ no… _ ”  
Roboute: “It’s the future me Horus! I can’t do anything!”  
Leman: *Full on laughing yet again*

“Indeed,” Guilliman spoke, turning his full attention to the two Guardsman. “Your exploits and patriotism is commendable. And I have just received word of an opening in the regiment that you serve.” He turned to his aid. “These two will replace the vital missing cogs, I hereby raise both of you to the ranks of Sergeant. You are to stay stationed here on Macragge as your regiment rotates back in for refit and I expect you to fulfill your new duties of training the recruits well. Dismissed.”

Leman: “A-a promotion!? Hahaha!”

Titus and Lucius both began to curse their luck, but then thought… well… They weren’t  **leaving** Macragge, just training people. It wasn’t so bad. Maybe they could live a life in the rear and not see battle anymore! But what if… What if the prince caused another daemonic incursion? They saluted at the Lord Regent and left to escape into their new fate. Maybe they could enjoy some time in peace and quiet…

The Bone Singer leaned towards her fellow Guardian, quietly speaking up to him, “Should we tell him that they are a couple of cowards?”

The Guardian shook his head just barely, not wanting to correct the man who was literally holding their fate in his hands.

Guilliman turned back to the, now seated, delegation.

“You have invoked the Treaty of Eden, thus, you are privy to it with full rights pertaining to your situation. But must first be aware of its statues and agreed upon rules.”

Eldrad simply nodded and waved a hand for Guilliman to continue.

“As agreed upon in the treaty. You are being granted Asylum immediately in the area of Imperium Secundus without question. With the granting of that asylum, you also agree upon the following of Ultramar law to its fullest effect and are expected to assimilate into society.” He looked at every single Eldar at the table. “Do you agree thus far?”

Emperor: *Nodding approvingly* “GOOD TERMS, SO FAR.”

Eldrad was ready for this and agreed, his entourage all had varying degrees of acceptance, while a couple stubbornly stayed quiet. They were all aware of how much the Treaty favoured the Imperium, even if they were the ones to help Humanity during their worst moment. Some were still of the opinion that it was one Eldar woman who agreed to this and them following the Treaty was akin to bending over for the mon’keigh.

But what could they have done? In the end, the Eldar were the ones more desperate for their assistance, especially after the silent year. And in reality, it was as fair as it could be…

“So be it. Continuing onward, Farseer Eldrad will be granted quarters here in the Fortress of Hera as pertains to his rank of Farseer and being apart of the Seer council aboard Craftworld Ulthwe. The rest shall be handed positions either elsewhere or given task and jobs in the Aeldari sections of Macragge Magnas Civitas.” Roboute waved over a serf who activated a hololith embedded into the table that projected a map of said city that had been updated every month or so. “You are free to venture between the two sides, as many of your brethren have so far.”

They studied the hololith, noting how disorganized and dare they even call it, haphazardly made the living blocks were. Some were doubting if this was for the best or not, others wondered if taking their chances out in the wilds was better. The few who didn’t have their helmets on envied the ones who did, since their distress was starting to creep onto their sharp features.

Rogal: “The design irks my soul.”  
Perturabo: “And mine.”

*At this, the back door opened, and in came a Custodes for the Emperor, but he took one look at the screen and nearly screeched. He thought it was the ugliest design he had ever seen and as a master war mason, it insulted his very  _ soul _ ! He promptly turned straight around, waving his hands and shaking his head violently all the while turning his flamer on to find some poor combat servitors to incinerate*

Emperor: *Winces* “HE REALLY DIDN’T NEED TO SEE THAT…”

“Only marginally better than the webway. But it will do.” Eldrad spoke.

“Good,” Guilliman confirmed. “Then there is only the matter of your position in all of this Farseer.”

Eldrad straightened, knowing it was time for the real negotiations. “Continue, please.”

“As it so happens. We are currently lacking a position for the Prince’s tutor on his studies of the Warp and his psychic prowess from the Aeldari’s side.”

Jaghatai: “You are far too smooth for your own good in this chapter, brother.”  
Roboute: “I… try?”

So. A glorified babysitter for the surrogate spawn of the Prophet and the Lord Regent. How far he has fallen, to having to teach a child how to use their powers. But he did recall how the child shone, recalling more of how the seers prophesied that He-Who-Shines-Brightest would emerge during the darkest of times between humanity and Aeldari. He sat back, fingertips creating a web on his lap, “Ah, so I am to become a tutor to a small child on the mysteries of the warp? Shall I send you my resume in my extensive years on the Path of the Educator? References as well?”

Guilliman leaned back into his throne. “It would be very helpful. Of course, as his father, I am relegated to inform you that the Prince is the living embodiment and host of the Astronomicon.” He spoke with a smile.

Emperor: “AH, REMINDS ME OF WHEN ELDRAD WAS FRIENDS WITH ME AND EVERYONE ELSE. ALWAYS MADE SURE TO GET A PICT OF HIM IN THOSE AWFUL SWEATERS. BUT IT IS GOOD TO SEE HIM ACTUALLY JOKING WITH ROBOUTE THERE.” *thinks* _ Maybe I should… Or no…? Maybe?  
_ Sanguinius: “Sweaters…?”  
Fulgrim: “What…?”

Eldrad nodded dramatically, “I see. That is why he shines as brightly as a giant lit beacon used to guide ships through the great sea of the Warp. Never would have guessed.”

“I suppose you never would have guessed that he has the power, when pushed to a breaking point, to re-route the Astronomicon and make it a physical projection outside of his body, causing massive warp tears and anything it hits to be killed immediately, its soul being vaporized.” Roboute thought for a second before clicking his tongue as if he forgot something barely worth mentioning, “That being his last tutor.”

Emperor: “WELL… I DID MAKE THE THING POWERFUL.”

“So the Astronomicon that you use to guide ships through the warp is stuck on the soul of a child who looks to be only barely out of his first cycle, that when he gets to a point, projects it in the materium causing warp tears and the vaporization of those who meet his ire?” Eldrad summarized as his entourage behind him shared horrified glances, now suddenly realizing how much danger they were in.

“Indeed. He is also extremely clumsy and when his emotions get pushed to a certain edge, has the ability to summon daemons by accident.”

At this point, many of the Eldar were wondering if it was too late to run for the wild space and try their luck in Tau space. They heard it was practically free real estate there what with all the dead Tau and all the free worlds ripe for picking. That is of course if one ignored the massive presence of the Plague Marines, Orks and sleeping Tyranids. All the while, Eldrad felt a large grin grow on his face, this was a very interesting development. One he was beyond glad to be a part of. “After raising three full Aeldari children to adulthood, I don’t see much wrong here. Sounds wonderful! When do I start?”

Emperor: *Whispers* “IT’S FREE REAL ESTATE.”  
Mortarion: “Ah… the Tau got munched. Good.”  
Lion: “Yes, the fish men. None of us even cared about them, so nothing of value was lost. Not like they were important or anything.”  
Horus: “Well, there was that one… Faring? Fairing?”  
Magnus: “Commander Farsight?”  
Horus: “Yeah! That guy! Wonder if he made it.”  
Lion: “I doubt it.”

The Eldar delegation felt their jaws drop, was he insane!?

“Right away, so you can finally be of some use,” Guilliman said, not being able to take it anymore as he finally began to laugh. Eldrad began to laugh as well, the two of them full-on enjoying the reunion.

“I admit, I was surprised, but it is elating to be on good terms with your family again.”

“Same to you, old friend.” Guilliman nodded as they all stood.

“To a brighter future then,” Eldrad spoke, reaching out and shaking the Lord Regent's hand.

“To a brighter future.” Guilliman echoed as the vid shut off.

The vid clicked empty, the feed dying away as Lehm began the cleaning rituals. He also did take time to run some diagnostics, wondering if the machine spirit was displeased, or if there was something wrong with the projector. It was definitely not made for playing interdimensional vids of the future, and it played a lot of them over these past seven weeks...

“WOW. DID THAT ONE DRAG ON FOREVER.” The Emperor groaned, rubbing at his face exasperatedly. He was so done with everything so far.

“What are you talking about?” Magnus intervened. “It was like an hour at most.”

“THE VID YEAH, US TALKING… MUCH LONGER.”

“No… not really…?” Magnus supplied, eye squinting at his father as he tried to understand what made him antsy and angry  **this** time. But well, to be fair, there was Roboute sucking face, infant torture, and extremely incompetent guardsman with Aeldari arrogance. And Eldrad. Perhaps there was only so much their father could take in one day.

"Father," Horus spoke up, "A Custodes came in earlier, but ran off not long after he came in. Do you think he had anything important to say to you?"

The Emperor waved it off, not getting up from his throne. He was comfy. "DON'T WORRY ABOUT IT, HORUS. IF IT WAS URGENT, THEY WOULD HAVE SPOKEN UP ANYWAY AND TOLD ME." He shrugged, "WHAT PART DID HE RUN FROM, EXACTLY?"

Rogal was the one to answer, "It was the part where future Roboute showed the Aeldari entourage the hololith of Macragge Magnas Civitas. My normal calm was interrupted by the terrible planning and lack of foresight in the planning of the city. He ran out at this part, due to his nature as a master warmason like myself and Perturabo."

Perturabo blinked and eyed Rogal shrewdly, "You actually complimenting me?"

"Yes." Rogal intoned, "He hated it as much as we did and retreated to most likely take his rage out on some combat servitors."

The Emperor nodded, of course Rogal would be the one to know. "I SEE. I WILL CHECK ON HIM LATER THEN. ON THAT NOTE, ROBOUTE, MAGNUS. GET TO WORK!"

The two aforementioned Primarchs glanced at each other before towards their father. "Yes?"

"YOU TWO COMPLAINED THE MOST ABOUT THE PILES BEING DISORGANIZED. SO, HOP TO IT! YOU TWO CAN PICK THE NEXT ONE WE WATCH! AND MAKE IT SNAPPY, PRECIOUS HAWK BOY CAN'T STAND NOT GETTING HIS BINGING CONTENT."

Sanguinius blushed at this as Roboute and Magnus let out long suffering sighs and went to work. Sanguinius definitely did not have a problem with wanting to see the next piece of content. At all. He just... hated cliffhangers. That's all.

He doesn't have a problem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter... oh boy...
> 
> You have been warned.


	10. Extras 4 - In which Angron's life is cleared up a bit more and no one wanted to watch this one

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please check the warnings that have NOW been added for the story. This is the point where we begin to start taking risks, where we start talking about some... certain elements. I'm just giving you one last warning before we plunge in.
> 
> Art made by the great Splitmind90 who originally posted this on the thread on SpaceBattles! <3

“You know,” Magnus started after a minute or so on the floor with Roboute, organizing the piles, “Any of you could get up and help?”

“If ah get down on the fookin floor, ah’m not gettin back up.” Leman shot back to Magnus who let out an exaggerated sigh, of course, the canid wouldn’t want to be productive.

“Oh, of course. Dogs really do enjoy being on the floor, you know.” Magnus snickered as Leman let out an ‘Oi!’ and how he wasn’t a canid, which was promptly ignored by the nerd himself.

“Will you two stop? It’s already bad enough that we have even more vids appearing and we have to organize them.” Roboute rolled his eyes, “and apparently it’s up to us because we complained about it.” He was already going through multiple stacks, in order of timeline, child, and which ones have been watched or skipped, and so on. He was already building up a personal pile of vids about Aegidius that he was eager to watch by himself since they were in the earlier years and he was positive no one would want to watch baby vids.

“RIGHT YOU ARE, BOBBY BOY.” The Emperor spoke up, enjoying a nice drink he got sent up from the bars. He always did love his Rum and Coke. Well, kinda. Never will get the exact taste and recreation of it, but well, it was good enough now with regular soda. “HOW IS THAT GOING, BY THE WAY? FABULOUS HAWKBOY NEEDS HIS CONTENT AND EVERYONE IS JUST WAITING ON YOU TWO.”

Magnus let out another exaggerated sigh, “Well, Father, we are manually sorting through them because you are too lazy to do it yourself. So until anyone else wants to help, we will sit here and take our sweet time.” He then thought about it, tapping his chin with a vid in a theatrical way, “I think this may just end up taking up so much time, it could take us  **days** to file them all…”

“You may be right, brother,” Roboute spoke up, scowling at the Emperor, who frowned at their antics. “Taking care of the logistical network of the Great Crusade has most likely burned out all of my expertise. I believe sorting through about two hundredish vids from a transdimensional chest from the future has finally broken my spirit.”

There were some snickers from the rest of the brothers, their sense of humor has definitely been freed over the course of seven weeks. Their father also snickered at that, “WELL, IF YOUR SPIRIT IS BROKEN BY JUST SORTING SOME VIDS, I WONDER HOW WELL YOU HAVE BEEN CARING FOR THE CRUSADE.”

“Absolutely horribly.” Roboute joked. “Why do you think it all hasn’t come crashing to the ground with all of us here?”

Sanguinius watched this and wondered how he could help, but also was eager to get more content. He liked watching the vids and was always eager for the next one to be played. No, he  _ didn’t  _ have a problem, he just loved spending time with his brothers and father and eating snacks and watching vids and not working. Baal didn’t need much maintenance after all and at this point, the Legion essentially managed itself especially since they were all more or less on garrison duty anyway. “Have you found one to play yet?”

“Which one?” Lorgar asked. “There are so many of them.”

“Well.” Roboute piped up. “This one did stand out.” He pulled out a completely black holotape that had the words ‘I hate you, you good for nothing, shit for all, worthless gladiator. I hope this shit helps you get your crap together and stop decimating my brothers and blaming it on the nails.  **Asshole** .’ in red letters all over the holotape. The ‘asshole’ part was bolded and underlined so many times, that there was visible wear into the plastek housing of the tape. It looked like they carved that word in as deep as they could into the plastek without harming the vid.

The entire family slowed turned to Angron, expecting him to be mad with rage, only to find him… remorseful?

“He did not live.” He stated, sounding as if he wanted to convince himself more than anything. “Whoever sent that, isn’t him.”

“Well I have to be honest here, brother.” Lorgar piped up once more. “You don’t exactly have the best relationship with your legion. You have to stop decimating them.”

Angron grumbled and merely looked away, appearing to still be lost in thought. He really didn’t want to revisit old memories and lost chances.

“Lorgar is correct brother,” Horus added in. “They love you as their own father and have done nothing other than attempting to appease you. You must stop this foolishness.”

Angron whirled around on the Warmaster. “I wouldn’t do it in the first fucking place if I didn’t want to command them! It’s not like I was given a choice in the first place! A  **slave** to the fucking last!”

Mortarion in the back raised a mug to this, enjoying some of Leman’s foul ale. He knew he needed a drink for this one so he was prepared. “Neither did I!”

“I will give you that.” Horus nodded. “But it is still not their fault-”

“WELL, TECHNICALLY. IT IS.”

“Wait, what?” Horus asked in surprise.

“I DID GO AND ASK ANGRON TO JOIN THE GREAT CRUSADE. BUT I DIDN’T ACTUALLY TELEPORT HIM UP. THAT WAS HIS SONS, THE WARHOUNDS. THEY GOT SLIGHTLY OVERZEALOUS AND IMPATIENT. I WAS ACTUALLY PLANNING ON TAKING OVER NUCERIA SO THEY COULD FINALLY HAVE A HOMEWORLD SINCE ANGRON WAS QUITE CLEARLY IN THE PROCESS OF DOING SO HIMSELF.”

“Wait, so why didn’t you do it after?” Lorgar asked, as equally surprised as Horus.

“WELL FIRST OF ALL: ANGRON SLAUGHTERED ALL THE LEGIONARIES RESPONSIBLE BEFORE DECIDING HIMSELF TO SIMPLY JOIN THE CRUSADE AND MOVE ON.”

Roboute from the floor sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose as Magnus shook his head, it was a bad idea to bring up that vid. They were just going to sort these and hope everyone would just ignore the vid.

“Don’t pin this one on Angron father!” Lorgar stood up for his brother. “You should have helped him make the choice, the nails clearly make him-”

“There was nothing left for me on Nuceria. There  **_IS nothing_ ** left for me on Nuceria.” Angron ground out between clenched teeth. Painful memories coursing through his brain, making the nails bite even harder.

The family went silent for a second even as Roboute turned the vids over in his hands. “Clearly… there is.” He elaborated on his thoughts, showing the holovid in hand with a slight shake.

“She’s  **not ALIVE!”** Angron suddenly roared, grabbing his head a second later as the nails bit back with the power a thunder hammer.

“Who brother?” Lorgar asked tenderly beside his brother’s throne, putting a caring hand on Angron’s shoulder.

“It doesn’t fucking matter because  **SHE’S DEAD!”** He bellowed even as he leant back on the throne, teeth clenched and eyes closed, not wanting to remember anything about that part of his life. “And him with her. The kid died with her. My son died with her…  **THEY’RE DEAD!”** He screamed again, struggling with both physical and psychological pain at relieving the memories as old scars he thought long-accepted or forgotten came surging back and revealing on just how tender and sore they still were.

The family stared in silent shock. Never before had they seen Angron like this. So utterly… broken and dismayed. What could have-

“Angron had a significant other who he sired a child with. Both of whom perished in his rebellion. Most likely sometime before father came along.” Rogal spoke up, for once being helpful with his ‘obvious’ assumptions. Some glanced at Rogal, making motions for him to shut up, pointing to Angron who was on the edge of either blowing up or falling deeper into depression.  


“Brother.” Lorgar whispered. “Is this true?”

His only answer was Angron slamming his head a few times into the headrest of his throne. So hard in fact that the metal had bent with a very visible indent. “YES!” He groaned out before leaning forward and leaning into his arms, desperately fighting back the bite of the nails as it only got harder. “There is nothing for me.  **_Nothing_ ** .”

To the family… this was not Angron. This wasn’t the raging berserker of a gladiator they all knew… Watching him show so much regret and despair deeply disturbed them.

“I think we should watch it,” Sanguinius spoke. “At the very least it might bring Angron some closure in his life-”

“Closure?” Angron ground out, anger seeping in, “ **Closure** ? I don’t need closure! I just wanted to get away from that fucking planet and everything they did to me, to my family, to my people! None of you know how horrible it was there! None of you! Do you think I’m bad enough with the nails? I’m nothing compared to what the fucking High-Riders saw as ‘normal’!” He spat that last word, the foul taste in his mouth making him relive every single incident he had to live through on that planet.

“ANGRON, I UNDERSTAND YOU WENT THROUGH A HORRIBLE EXPERIENCE ON THERE, BUT THE PAST IS THE PAST-” The Emperor attempted to defuse the situation but was interrupted by Angron’s snarling, seething voice.

“Horrible experience!? I went through a ‘HORRIBLE EXPERIENCE’!? If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t be in this fucked up place! I should have died on Nuceria! I should have died fighting against those slaving assholes! The  **_fucking High-Riders_ ** deserved to have me tear them to pieces! After what they did to me, did to her, did to  **everyone** !” He turned to Magos Lehm, “play the fucking vid!”

“Angron, hold on, please consider that watching this while you are angry isn’t such a good idea…” Lorgar tried to reason.

“No.” He turned back to the Emperor, “I want you to sit there and watch it. Look at everything Nuceria has done. I want you to see how fucking far they went. It wasn’t a ‘horrible experience’ it was pure humiliation! If this vid shows off what I think it’s going to show, then you are going to sit there and watch… every… single… detail…” If looks could kill, the Emperor would have been interred on the golden throne by now. “Play it.”

The Magos slowly turned to the Emperor who had an inquisitive look on his face. Fine, if Angron wanted him to watch it, then he’ll do it.

“SO BE IT. PLAY THE VID.”

Roboute and Magnus returned to their thrones, both exchanging a look of, ‘this is going to be a disaster’. The rest of the brothers also joined in on this look, they knew Nuceria was bad, but how bad did it get? Some really didn’t want an answer to that question.

**...**

_ I’m sorry I’m so useless. I’m worth nothing, and I am nothing. I am only good at two things. _

_ Being a pleasure slave, and being able to always smile. _

_ I don’t have a name, only a title. _

_ Sleeve. _

_ But you gave me a new purpose. I felt like I had awoken from a long sleep I didn’t know I was in, that the nightmare of captivity and suffering I lived in was behind me. _

_ Because of you, I was able to be strong. _

_ Because of you, I now had a name. _

_ Because of you, I was able to learn. _

_ Because of you, I saved lives. _

_ Because of you, I lived a wonderful life. _

_ Because of you, I finally knew what love was. _

Angron: *Has a faraway look on his face* “...I’m sorry.” *Winces and looks away as the nails bite*

**...  
914.M30 - Nuceria,** **_The Slave Markets  
_ ** **...**

Keep your head down, don’t look at anyone unless spoken to. If spoken to, have a smile on your face, no matter what. You are there to pleasure and serve, you have no other reason for living. That is your life.

She remembered what the matron told her, the matron of the pleasure slaves of Desh’ea. The matron taught her how to be a good pleasure slave, how you must always be docile, always be willing, always ready to be used. Be good, and they most likely wouldn’t hurt you.

The footage was of Nuceria, Desh’ea to be exact, with it’s white and blue masonry styled buildings and winding streets with a mixture of finely dressed nobility and lesser nobility, and the violent difference between them and the common citizenry. Most regular people wore less than stellar robes, not even counting the people who obviously were slaves, anyone could tell from the collars and shackles they wore, and how some were as nude as the day they were born. From the mid to high vantage of the footage, it was obviously a flying type of security footage of the city.

Angron: “...The Maggot’s Eyes…”  
Ferrus: “...w-what’s the Maggot’s Eyes?”  
Angron: “Security. Kept the slaves in line. Let the fucking High-Riders watch everything so they don’t have to leave their precious fucking homes...”

She winced slightly as she walked behind her master, a collar around her neck and a loincloth was all she wore in the hot sun of Nuceria. On her side was a huge bruise that was dark and ugly on her skin, it hurt to move that area, and made her want to curl up and sleep. Her collar was attached to a leash held onto her master, he was holding onto two leashes with two girls following him. Both girls wore the same thing, with only differences in their face, skin, hair and other superficial traits. But they both had the same look on their faces.

Completely empty eyes with not a shred of hope in them, eternally downcast as they followed after their master.

The wind blew and danced around her skin, making her shiver from being so exposed in a highly crowded area. The long loincloth barely hid anything, and the wind only helped show the bare skin underneath. She could feel the eyes of the people all over her exposed body. She long ago lost any sense of shame, how could you feel something if it was your life? If you knew nothing else? If you thought that it was the norm?

She was just glad to be here in the slave markets. Here, she was free from any groping hands. If anyone touched them, they were liable to lose their life, or worse, become a punishment slave or merely be harvested for anything of value. That was the only mercy she had as a pleasure slave to the young lord Thal’kr.

She couldn’t imagine what it was like to be a lower pleasure slave, living in the city or in the pits. What it must be like to have the pleasure pins shoved into your head, making you into a mindless sex-crazed hussy who couldn’t live if they weren’t being used, meant to forever be bred by other slaves and gladiators until they withered away or died after too many births. She was glad to be beaten, hurt, used, and passed around in the Thal’kr Estate if it meant she never had to have the pins. At least that way she could think about something other than giving pleasure to other people.

Roboute: “This is…  _ disgusting. _ ”  
Angron: “Take a good fucking look. Nuceria was always about degrading, humiliating and destroying innocent people. Like what you see!?”  
Roboute: “What? No! Why would I? This looks like some sick and perverted fantasy of a society! I would  _ never _ endorse something like this brother!”  
Angron: *Pauses, then looks away*

She felt her master stop, they were in the middle of the markets now, there was a chorus of voices around her, all were bidding for the newest stock on the stage, being shown off and given a slave objective. Pleasure, Punishment, Gladiator, or Cattle. Always one of the four.

Men, women, children, no one was free from the status of slave. Each stock would have a collar and shackles on, completely nude so the seller may show off how fit, how beautiful, or how easily they could be hurt. Multiples at a time, all on stage with countless cages filled with the dead-eyed stock who had given up hope, those that screamed to the sky and demanding ‘why’ and even some that plead for freedom. Some would even beg for favors, bartering their family members if it meant they could escape. It wasn’t uncommon for a mother to offer her child if it meant she didn’t have to be sold. And all of this was drowned out by the auctioneer, who frequently joked as sold the stock, all to the laughing, bidding audience.

Vulkan: *Eye twitching in a  _ very _ violent manner as it takes every bit of his will to control himself*  
Horus: “I would usually keep this to myself, but this is rapidly making me lose any tolerance I might have had for these people.”  
Angron: “This is normal for Nuceria. Normal…” *spits to the side* “Fucking bottom-feeding maggots…”  
Konrad: “It makes me want to flay every single one of those slaving bastards alive.”  
Angron: “I wanted to kill all of them. But you all saw how that went... And the planet is still being  **_protected_ ** by the law of  _ Imperial Compliance _ … so I just avoid it. I don’t want anything to do with that place.”

Her master was bidding, but she was not meant to listen, they were never meant to listen. Merely pay attention to if they were summoned. They simply kept their heads down and stayed silent behind him, they had no say in any of this. It was not their business.

Breeder, beside her, was standing still, she never said a word, not that they were expected to. They often were next to each other, being the favored two of the young lord. Yet they never said a word to each other in the years they knew each other.

She ignored Breeder, thinking back on the lessons that Matron had taught them, even if she knew them by heart, she would often think back on them. Anything to distract her from the reality of her life. She wanted to be a good slave. One that didn’t get kicked, or have iho-sticks burned into her skin, or have her hair pulled until it ripped out by the roots, or have them stab her until they had enough. She would be better, so they wouldn’t do it anymore.

Hands folded together, right in front of you, but not like you are trying to shield yourself. You must look pleasing and presentable, docile, and feminine. Do not cover your chest, it is there to be seen and enjoyed, fondled, and used. You are not human, you are whatever they call you. And you are called  _ Sleeve _ .

Matron was always right, even when she got old and was only useful for bookkeeping and training all of the young girls and boys to be turned into pleasure slaves. Matron taught them what their life was going to be like, better to be a pleasure slave than a cattle slave, a gladiator slave, or a punishment slave. It was better to be a good pleasure slave than a dead slave. Matron was always right.

Mortarion: “I would take death over slavery.”  
Angron: “Death or freedom…”  
Mortarion: “After going through hell. There is barely a difference between the two.”

“Come along, Sleeve, Breeder.” The young lord called to them, the sounds of the markets bleeding back into her mind. She had been so deep in her mind, that so much time had passed that the markets were noticeably thinner. The auctions must have been over for the day. The cages were completely empty of all stock after all. She hoped it would have been longer, so it would have been a long time of not being used. To give her bruise time to heal-

A tug and they followed him dutifully, the eyes following her journey. She barely stopped herself from wincing as she irritated the bruise. It didn’t use to hurt this bad but Master was angry last night and swung a bit too hard and cracked a rib.

Lion: “Hitting a woman that can’t even fight back. What kind of pathetic excuse of noble filth is that?”  
Angron: “A  _ High-Rider.  _ Trust me, they saw all of them as less than dirt. A slave is nothing to them.”  
Jaghatai: “By the laws of Chogoris. I cannot kill them directly.”  
Lorgar: “That’s-”  
Jaghatai: “So I would conveniently let them fall into a cauldron of boiling oil and let them cook until their skin slips off of their worthless corpses.”  
Emperor: “I KNEW I DIDN’T MISPLACE THE GENGHIS DNA…”

He took them deeper into the city, his clean and crisp dress robe flowing elegantly behind him as they walked the paved roads, being careful to avoid any and all filth littering them, hoping to keep herself clean for her Master. The last time she had accidentally trodden through a decomposing body that was left there as a warning for errant slaves.

Oh, Master did not like that one bit… she was sent to have a bath in ice-cold water and scrubbed so hard every single bit of her skin felt as if it was burning... The sky was darkening, shouldn’t they be getting back to the estate? She didn’t mind not being there, out here, she just had to walk and stand. She wasn’t being told she was useless and having all of the things that her Master would do to her when they got back described in vivid detail, so it was a good walk.

Magnus: “Wait, I just remembered. Wasn’t Corvus-” *Turns around to look at his brother only to see a seething shadow like mass emitting pure and utter  _ hatred _ through the warp. “... yeah, fair enough…”

Corvus: “ _...they broke them so far that they enjoy being treated like  _ **_dogs_ ** _ … _ ”

Outside was better. She hoped she could get a walk in every now and then if it meant that.

She smelled the scent of blood in the air, her head just barely raising to see her surroundings.

This was the arena of Desh’ea, where the blood games were held.

Why were they here?

Did the young lord buy more gladiator slaves? Did he have business here? She hated coming here, she hated watching the gladiator fights, they could barely be called that since it was more about them surviving against whatever was thrown in. Even then, she barely ever watched a full fight, since she was too busy being used.

The young lord loved the fights, he always loved watching the blood fly. He even made her watch without being used at times… so he could play the victor later on. The only difference was that the swords, maces, and daggers were swapped out for whips, switches, and shockers.

Leman: “I would like to set these so-called ‘lords’ loose on Fenris. Then hunt them down. One by one. And break every. single. Bone. in their worthless bodies.”  
Magnus: “Brother… for once we agree.”  
Fulgrim: “I do believe I have not felt such disgust in… ever.”

She felt a phantom pang on her head, all of them where she lost patches of hair from when he would get frustrated with her. But with how dark it was, there shouldn’t be any survival matches going on. So why was she here with the young lord?

They entered into the arena, but they went downwards, not upwards to the stands. The smell that hit her nose made her stiffen as she followed the young lord. The smell of sweat, blood, feces, urine, and rotting bodies. It made her skin crawl, it made her want to turn around and run away. She wanted to go back to the estate!

But the young lord was going there, and he would do horrible, terrible things if she didn’t do what he wanted. Only the worst punishments were reserved for runaways… So she would step down into hell itself after him.

She just desperately hoped it wasn’t what she thought it was going to be.

Please… Whatever is out there…

Please don’t let her die down here.

Please, send an angel for her.

Sanguinius: “Alright, Angron, you made your point to Father. Can turn this off now?”  
Angron: “No. I want him to watch all of it.”  
Lorgar: “Brother… are you sure it is because of father?”  
Angron: *Looks away* “Yes…”  
Lorgar: *Thinks otherwise but says nothing*  
Emperor: “DON’T WORRY. I’LL WATCH ALL OF IT. SO YOU CAN FINALLY SEE THAT I’M TRYING TO FIX THINGS, ANGRON.”

**…**

“Lord Thal’kr! Such a pleasure to see you here!” A fat, sweating, man in robes greeted the young lord but didn’t dare to offer his hand to him. The fat, bald, sweaty man instead clasped his hands together, rubbing his palms, still attempting to look presentable, despite being down in the pits with it’s acrid and stale air and heated yet still cold stillness. He was so delighted to have the young lord here! He was such a wonderful, high paying patron to the arenas! And he often brought the best slaves from the markets  _ directly  _ to him!

Angron: “It’s him… fucking  _ him _ …”  
Lorgar: “Who?”  
Angron: “The piece of fucking shit who ‘bought’ me.  **Both** of them.”

“Ah, Killian. So nice to be face to face with you. I must say, the show you put on with your gladiators was quite the spectacle.” The young lord grinned widely at his… benefactor. The shows were always a great thing to watch. And quite pleasing even… arousing. “You have been putting my money and my slaves to good use?”

“But of course, Lord Thal’kr! I train them thoroughly! I am ever your patron and your benefactor! Always happy to live my life to serve to you your entertainment!”

She could feel the oil coming off of this large tub of a man, his voice silky smooth as he buttered up the young lord so obviously and badly that even she and Breeder could feel it. She could hear and feel the pure animosity of the slaves around her, the ones barely conscious directed their hate at this fat man who cooed at the young lord. And if they weren’t looking at him with sheer abhorrence, then they were looking at them with pure unfiltered lust. Many of them most likely haven't seen a woman… well ever. Much less got to hold or copulate with-

Please, please don’t let what she thinks is going to happen, happen!

Please, send an angel to save her!

Fulgrim: “I believe I am going to vomit from the sheer sight of even thinking about this.”  
Sanguinius: “I’m close to that as well.”

“Indeed you are. Indeed you are. And I am here to reward you for your efforts.” The lord Thal’kr spoke silkily, pulling the leashes forward and making the two women behind him step forward. “For all of your hard work, I am allowing you full use of two of my favored pleasure slaves. As a reward for everything you have done so far.”

She felt her heart drop, she couldn’t count how many men and even women that were practically licking their chops at them both. And that wasn’t even counting the look they were getting from Killian. He was practically manic with his want for them.

Please, god! Please no!

A tug. She didn’t want to. She wanted to run. To turn and run as fast as her legs could carry her… but her body moved by itself. She walked, and the lord Thal’kr made them stop in front of Killian, but by his side still.

A hand came up to their chins, making them look up at the fat, sweaty and oily man who had so many rolls of fat on his body, he looked like he was practically melting. “On my left, is Breeder. She is about twenty-two now, obedient and very quiet. Never makes a peep. She actually has a problem, never bleeds every month and can’t carry, but means you don’t have to be careful either. Use her all you want, never have to deal with unwanted consequences. And clean too. Not a single scar on her face, or body. Keep it like that if you can.” His right hand, made her look up at the man. She remembered her lessons and plastered a smile on her face. “On my right, is Sleeve. Not very bright, dumber than a mule in fact, but always smiles and is the most resilient pleasure slave I have. Not very common to have a perfect pleasure and punishment slave all in one. Doesn’t make a peep, no matter how hard I go at her. She’s younger, about seventeen now, had her for a good number of years now. She can take whatever you throw at her and still keep smiling. But isn’t the prettiest to look at, need to get her to the sculptors one day, she has been used quite a lot.” Her master ran a hand across her shoulder, his hand sliding into the cloth that covered her chest and caressing with a falsely gentle hand. “All I ask for her is that she doesn’t die. But anywhere up to that point is fine.”

Corvus: *Absolutely seething* “ _ Punishment… slave…”  _ *Sounds of metal bending*  
Angron: “A slave meant to be beaten. Hurt. Tortured. Typically people who were made into slaves because they did something the fucking slavers didn’t like.”  
Corvus:  _ “I suspected as much.”  
_ Ferrus: “They just… talk about people like this? All the time?”  
Fulgrim: “It seems like it…” *Looks away* “He’s describing them like they’re a couple of prized canids for a show! What next? Will he start quoting their pedigrees!?”  
Roboute: “Like cattle for slaughter. As if they didn’t have a soul.” *Really deep breath*

She wanted to scream, she wanted to beg. She wanted to run away.

But she had nowhere to go.

She was  _ weak.. _ .

Someone… please save her…

The lord let go, moving to unclip their leashes with an audible noise. He held his hands behind his back and he stepped back. “Please do remember, I want them back in one piece. If I find out you let any of them die on your watch…” He let the unspoken threat hang in the air, one that Killian understood crystal clear. They were slaves, his property. And while they were meant for the most sadistic of enjoyments… they were for  _ his _ enjoyment.

“Of course, my lord. Of course. I promise you that your…” The fat man ran his pair of hungry eyes across the pleasure slaves. “- wonderful stock, will be returned to you in the same condition they came in.” Killian cooed to his lord, salivating at the two beauties he had under his control. Gladiator women were never good enough, especially when they were given the nails, then they were nigh untouchable. Not to mention that they died far too quickly to train in anything even resembling the art of pleasure.

The young lord Thal’kr swiftly turned and left without much else to say other than, “You have until tomorrow's games. I shall collect them then.” He was quick to leave the pits, the caverns used as the slave quarters for the gladiators. Disgusting place.

As soon as the young lord Thal’kr left them with Killian, he immediately grabbed for Breeder, who made not a single sound. She accepted what was going to happen, giving Sleeve a look that made her shiver. A look of… smug pride…

Oh gods, Sleeve, she… She was…

“You will be my companion tonight, Breeder. Such a fine specimen…” He licked his chops, his jowls jiggling with the motion. He was so excited! A finely made and used pleasure slave all to himself! Oh, he’d love to have two, but the other one… Ugh, he hated scars. Far too much of a reminder of the whip. It was then that Breeder smirked and came close to Killian’s ear and said something to him that made him grin at the suggestion.

Lion: “I believe we might have some business to conduct after this.”  
Konrad: “I agree.”  
Emperor: “NOT NOW BOYS. NOT NOW. BUT SOON.”

He could be generous too, you know.

“Guards, open the pits and throw in Sleeve. The Gladiators that aren’t fully sedated yet can have fun too. After all…” He grinned at her, her smile never leaving her face even though her eyes were shining with pure horror. “They deserve a gift too. They are the ones who pleased the Lord Thal’kr with their performances. Simply make sure they don’t… use her too much.”

Please, gods, no!

She could do nothing as a guard seemed to appear out of nowhere and grabbed one of her arms, leading her to the opened gate that led into the deeper pits. She could hear the sounds of the ones not fully sedated yet, they were hungry, salivating, like starving hounds where a steak was thrown in for them to fight over. Growling like the monsters that they were.

Still, she kept her smile on her face, though she desperately wanted to cry and run instead. Of course, of course, a slave would want to experience what it was like to dominate another slave...

Help me… Help me… Please… Anyone…

She was thrown forward, the gate hadn’t even closed before they were upon her, like a pack of starving animals ready to tear apart their kill. She couldn’t scream, only let her mind empty as she tried to disassociate with what was going to happen.

Sanguinius: “I believe we should skip this. It serves no purpose-”

She was weak.

She would always be  _ weak... _

She could feel their hands on her, the voices, the sounds, the crowd of faces as haggard and dirty as any would be if they lived down here. It was like looking at hell itself, and it had no sympathy for anyone too weak to fight back.

“What are all of you doing!? Stop!”

Sanguinius: “-wait! That voice!”  
Lorgar: “Brother. That doesn’t sound like you… not fully.”  
Angron: *Doesn’t look at Lorgar* “...here it comes…”

The voice was as strong and commanding as the bell which announced the beginning of a new fight.

Immediately she was let go, the slaves backing away from her. She blinked a few times, looking around her and realizing she wasn’t being touched. Who…?

And that was the first time she met him.

**…**

All he had ever known was the pits, the slave quarters. For nearly nine years, he had only known the cramped and terrible place under the arena.

For all his life, he had only known the dark, of fighting, of sedatives being injected into his body as they desperately attempted to control him. Pumping him so full of drugs that it nearly overwhelmed even his superior body and mind.

Mortarion: “They had that many sedatives on hand?”  
Angron: “All day unless it was to throw me into the arena. Hard to move most of the time.”  
Horus: “Couldn’t you have escaped?”  
Angron: “And go where? Back then, I thought it was fucking impossible to escape.”  
Ferrus: “They did have Dark Age technology… so it’s not out of the realm of possibility that they could have kept you there for all that time…”

He had lost so many brothers in arms, lost so many fellow slaves to the brutal survival games of the arena. Every single one was still like a blow to his hearts. And yet, he still lived in these pits, seeing the worst parts of humanity flaunt itself before his eyes.

Thus, when a young, beautiful looking slave girl was thrown into his cage to pleasure his friends, he was disgusted. A smile plastered on her face even as her entire being radiated fear and hysteria.

They fell upon her. As if they were animals! Vermin! Barely better than the High-Riders!

So he demanded that they stop, and they all obeyed. Not out of shock. But because of fear and the respect they had for their comrade. They all knew he could kill any and all of them as easily as snapping a twig in half.

“Ah, I see.” One of the Gladiators purred. “Angron wants her to himself first of all.” The giant man pushed the girl forward towards Angron. Despite it all, and the only thing left for modesty being her arms covering her chest, she continued smiling even as she shook like a new slave about to partake in their first blood game.

He looked up at all of his fellow Gladiators and gave them all a look of pure disgust. “What is wrong with all of you? Do you honestly wish to rape this girl? That would make all of you just as bad as the High-Riding bastards that claim ownership over us. Are you all really so desperate for any type of power, that you take it out on someone else!? We are not the rabid dogs that they so desperately try to make us out to be! We already must debase ourselves in the arena day after day, now you want to further throw your humanity away!? Are we not siblings in camaraderie, to endure the suffering we live through daily together? Act like it!”

Corvus: “Good words brother.”  
Lorgar: “That’s what you were like? Before the nails?”  
Angron: “Hn… Yes…”

Some sneered and hissed at him. Others looked away in shame.

“You speak well Angron.” His adoptive father praised him from his position in the corner of the cell, sitting on hay and attempting to get some rest. “She is a slave. Like us. We cannot give the Masters the pleasure of showing how debased we are.” He lectured sternly towards the other Gladiators even as they slowly began dispersing to their own ‘beds’.

Angron: “Oenomaus… I’m sorry…  _ so sorry… _ ” *Winces and closes his eyes*  
Lorgar: “Wait. That isn’t...?”  
Angron: “Father…  _ father… _ ”

With that, Angron turned and walked over to his own spot. By far the biggest of them all since he had outgrown every other gladiator long ago.

He sat down on it with a grunt. Attempting to relax on the biting hay and cold of the stones that was managing to come through.

Then he looked towards the Slave that had been thrown in with them. Hair that reminded him of pure untainted sand, and eyes that reminded him vaguely of an ocean. Whatever an ocean was. Skin like soft light peaches and the dusting of freckles over the skin that wasn’t covered with scars. Her hair had places where it looked like chunks were ripped out and it was in the process of growing back or was covered with longer parts, no single strand going past her chin.

She was standing completely still. That fake smile still plastered on her face. Not having moved an inch. As if she was waiting for the other scabbard to drop.

Sanguinius: “Does she really expect that someone who saved her would take advantage?”  
Angron: “Happened before. There are few if any good people on Nuceria. I don’t blame her...”

He saw how some of the others looked at her. He knew they couldn’t control themselves. Especially the ones with the nails…

“You there. Girl.” He spoke up, looking towards the slave. “Come here.”

In her own mind, she knew it finally dropped. Instead of a multitude of slaves ravishing and devouring her, she would be left with the biggest, toughest and strongest out of them all. She quickly made her way to him but stood only a few feet away from him. She was confused about whether the teachings applied here since it was slaves here too, does she uncover herself and wait for the orders? But wasn’t the Master the only one who could give orders? The Master and his guests? What was she supposed to do, she didn’t have the words and teachings of the Matron to tell her what she should do here!

Well… getting rid of her clothes always brought a smile to their faces…

She quickly untied the loincloth and let it drop to the floor. Exposing herself fully before him.

*Many of the family respectfully look away, horribly uncomfortable and disgusted that someone would break a person down like this*

Only for him to do…  _ nothing!? _ Oh no… no-no-no-no! She must have done something wrong! What now!? Would he punish her!? Hit her? Send her off to become-

Suddenly, a rough, coarse blanket was thrown over her.

“Please.” The gruff voice spoke in a surprisingly gentle manner. “You’re lovely, but I don’t want you.”

Those words… She never felt such a cascading sense of relief fall over her like this before. She’s never had someone just say no and… leave her be. The relief was too much and she nearly collapsed to the ground but settled for just falling to her knees and onto her rump. The smile fell, as her face started to show true confusion, bewilderment, and relief all at once. “W...What?”

Fulgrim: “Poor girl. She never had a true choice before has she?”  
Corvus:  _ “No.”  
_ Angron: “She never did until then.”

He looked at her even as she subconsciously drew the blanket tighter around her shoulders. For the first time in a very long time, her training was forgotten.

“I don’t want to use you. If it makes any difference I can tell the slaving bastards that come and get you that you did a good job.” He leaned against the wall now. His eyes closing. “You can stay here. The others won’t do anything to you then.”

She looked around bewildered. It wouldn’t be the first time she knelt for a long time… and it was better than getting used she guessed.

For a minute they simply lapsed into silence.

Then his eyes opened and he perched an inquisitive eyebrow. “I didn’t mean kneel. You can lie down and get some sleep.”

“I’m sorry!” She instantly apologized, hoping she didn’t make him mad. Don’t make him mad, that’s a rule she could follow! “I’m sorry, I don’t… I don’t know what to do- I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be talking- I’m sorry for breathing towards you- I’m sorry-”

“Woah!” He raised his hands in a defensive gesture. “Calm down! No one’s going to do anything to you here! We aren’t the High-Riders. Speak your mind if you need to and get some rest you…” He looked her up and down, seeing her many scars and yet well-maintained body and beautiful skin that shone through the blanket. “-clearly need it.”

Speak her mind? What? What does that… What did that mean? “R-Rest? I-I’m sorry, I… Speak… Mind? What? I…” She babbled, lost on everything he was speaking about. Weren’t gladiators just… brutes?

Oenomaus chose this time to intervene. “Angron, she’s a pleasure slave. Most likely since birth, she doesn’t know the meaning of free will.”

She nodded, birth. Yes. That made sense. “Yes. Yes, Sleeve has been a slave all her life. Sleeve does her best. Sleeve is a good pleasure slave…” She gripped the blanket tighter, hoping she wasn’t going to make the large man angry.

Silence was all that greeted her.

“If Sleeve had displeased you, please, don’t be afraid to hit. Sleeve is a good punishment slave.” She offered, as soon as people knew she was a punishment slave too, then they usually…

Roboute: “... I think I am going to vomit.”  
Vulkan: *Physically holding himself back* “ **Angron, I wish to visit Nuceria now.** ”  
Rogal: “This is…  _ repulsive.”  
_ Konrad: “I’m going to kill them. I will plan out all of their deaths, just give me the word. I will spare none of them.”

More silence before angry muttering interrupted it.

Oh no… she had made him angry…

“Fucking High-Riders.” The massive gladiator muttered in front of her. “Look I… I don’t want to use you. You’re free to rest or just talk or…” He threw his hands up in frustration. “No one is going to hurt you. Alright?”

That was… weird. “I don’t understand.”

“You don’t have to do anything you do not wish to girl.” Oenomaus spoke up from his corner. “You’re not a slave. Not while in here at least.”

That was an option? “Not… Not a slave… But… But Sleeve has always been a slave… Aren’t… Aren’t we all? Aren’t you? This… This doesn’t make sense… Sleeve wants to go back… Sleeve wants to go back to Master…”

The Gladiator spat all of sudden, pure disgust evident on his face. “You want to go back to him? The one that  _ uses _ you as if you were property? The one that abuses you and beats you? How could you be that weak?” He looked at her then the disgust gone and replaced entirely by pity.

She shook her head, “But… No. Sleeve doesn’t hate Master. He… He keeps Sleeve safe. Sleeve accepts the hurt. Sleeve takes it because… Because that’s what she is supposed to do… Sleeve isn’t on the streets, Sleeve is warm and happy. Happy…”

“Happy to get beaten up, abused and taken advantage of?” Angron asked. “That isn’t happiness. That is slavery. At least on the street you would be  _ free. _ ” He looked up at the ceiling, a wishful expression on his face.

She covered her ears, trying to block out his words. Stop it. “Stop it.”

He looked at her again. “That is what moves you? The fact that you are reminded that you are a slave?” The pity was gone now. Replaced only by anger. “You have a choice to not debase yourself and you want to go  _ back _ !?”

Emperor: “YOU CAN’T JUST YELL AT PEOPLE AND EXPECT THEM TO UNDERSTAND.”  
Angron: “Fuck you.”  
Emperor: “MERELY TRYING TO BE HELPFUL.”

She hummed, trying to block it out. “H-How would you know!? How would you know about… About being free, about… About everything… How do you know!?” She shot back, for the first time in her life speaking up. It… It felt good.

His eyes went blank. “There is a time when… I talked to someone. Someone made of gold… he made so many promises.” He snapped out of it, a snarl present on his face. “THAT! Is how I know what freedom is! That is how I know that this isn’t natural. And that is why, first chance I get, I am breaking every single slave owning bastard’s back.”

She shook her head, “No. No one ever has… You’ll die… You’ll die.”

He huffed even as he leaned back on the wall. His eyes closing and his face going neutral once more. “At least I would die by my own choice… and free.”

She stopped, looking back up at him with apprehension etched on her face. “You would die… to be free?”

“In a heartbeat.”

She knelt there. In complete and utter shock, the concept of freedom being utterly foreign to her. Death for freedom? Was it really worth paying such a price? But… no pain, no more obeying commands… it did sound nic-

“SLEEP! ALL OF YOU MAGGOTS GO TO SLEEP!” A guard shouted from outside of the cage even as the lights went out. No sense in keeping the lights on if they weren’t gonna fuck the girl.

In the darkness, she couldn’t see. And the reality of the cold temperatures finally began to sink in even as she began to slightly shiver.

Then she felt a hand on her shoulders… Oh god, someone was touching her, someone was touching her, someone was going to-

“You’re going to catch hypothermia if you don’t squeeze against the hay and wall with no clothes on.” Angron lectured her even as she was steered to his ‘bed’ and gently guided on how to lay down as he made space. He could tell she was radiating pure fear and hysteria, probably thinking he’d take advantage, so he had to coax her to relax. “Stay like that, you’ll be fine.”

Lorgar: “Brother, I noticed it earlier, but seeing it now… Were you an empath? Because it’s looking like you were…”  
Magnus: “That could be your own psychic potential manifesting since all of us do have our own powers.”  
Emperor: “HE IS. IT IS MOSTLY NEGATED BY THE NAILS.”  
Sanguinius: “It was nice of you to keep her warm, though.”  
Angron: “Shut up.”

She laid there, unsure if it was a trick or… He… He said he didn’t want to. He said it and… And… Maybe she could...maybe… trust him? She didn’t even know his name, or who he was, or what… He was so big and huge and everything! Was he some kind of monster!? But… But he was so warm… “Warm…” She snuggled up to him, despite him yelling at her, she still wanted to be warm.

He grunted but… that was that. It did feel nice to have someone curl up next to him though...

What? What was… what was this feeling?

She felt warm but… something more… Like she knew that if she were to close her eyes, that she wouldn’t be hurt. Or used. Or anything. That everything could actually be alright. She wondered what that word was, as she fell asleep against the big, warm man.

Oenomaus nearby spied Angron from the corner of his eye, watching how his adoptive son was all snuggled up to a beautiful pleasure slave. He shook his head and chuckled at the sight, giving Angron a little grin. In all his years as a gladiator slave, he had only seen this type of thing a handful of times. All ended in tragedy, of course, but this time… It was nice to see Angron all flustered at having this woman he was just yelling at snuggling up to him like nothing was wrong and he looked like he was just told he could sit out the next blood game.

Lorgar: “I realize that I am slow but… that is  _ her  _ isn’t it?”  
Angron: “...yes.”  
Lorgar: “I refuse to say that horrible, disgusting term they gave her, so what was her name?”  
Angron: “She had two… the one as a slave and the other when she became free… Falaere…  _ free _ …” *The nails bite as he lapses into ancient memories once more* “... _ fucking… nails… _ ”

**…**

Shouting awakened them, and it wasn’t a guard…

“You fool Killian! Throwing them in with the gladiators!?” Came the sound of Sleeve’s master as she quickly got up, fixed her loincloth and posture even as the gladiator beside her continued to lay there, but she knew he was awake.

“I-I am so sorry my lord! I- I did not know-”

Corvus: “ _ Oh what!? He didn’t know throwing a helpless woman into a pit of starving slaves could kill her!? _ ”  
Angron: “Bottom feeding, brown-nosing asshole was never known for his wits.”

“Who knows what these barbaric animals did!? I need her! I told you to make sure she stays in one piece!” Her Master’s shouting and hurried footsteps got louder as he apparently got closer to the cage.

Sleeve had already shed the blanket, her loincloth back on, and stood ready for her Master to find her. As she awoke and “dressed”, she couldn’t help but notice that instead of the teachings of the Matron running through her mind it was the words of the gladiator. Odd.

Roboute: “...the words of a Primarch does have a lasting impact on baselines…”  
Angron: “Yeah. I know.”  
Roboute: “Also helps that it was said to her by someone who treated her like a human being.”  
Angron: “Fuck off, brother.”

Finally, her Master appeared in front of the cage and let out a sigh as he saw her standing there. Then his eyes went down to the massive gladiator by her feet and he smirked. “She survived  _ that _ animal? I cannot believe he would let anyone live.”

She knew he was big, but what was… Oh. Oh! She remembered now! That gladiator was… Was Angron Thal’kr, the favored gladiator of House Thal’kr! She knew that she knew it but- but… How could she have forgotten…? Oh, she really was so stupid…

Sanguinius: “Darling, no… She’s not stupid, she just went through something traumatic and was sure she was going to die. I don’t blame her for not noticing you were someone… Apologies, that started to come out wrong.”  
Angron: “Whatever. I didn’t blame her then, I don’t blame her now.”

“Perhaps she’s tougher than I thought.” Her Master mused aloud with a chuckle even as Killian nervously smiled beside him and ordered the guards to open the gate, causing Sleeve to walk over and slip out.

She saw and watched as the guards equipped with tranquilizers shot at Angron, making sure to sedate him as the gate opened. She shuddered at the idea that he had to be sedated if the gate was opened.

As soon as she reached her Master, he reached up and re-attached the chain to her collar before looking her over.

“Is there an issue?” A much older and sterner voice came from down the hallway causing even her Master to stiffen with fear.

A man came around the corner. Well-groomed blonde hair and expensive clothes adorning a stoic face. Oh no… it was  _ the _ Lord Thal’kr. Master of his house…

“Nothing, Father.” Her Master quickly responded. “No issues, merely making sure Sleeve here wasn’t hurt by the gladiators which Killian so foolishly threw her in with, despite my orders  _ expressly _ saying to make sure she isn’t to be damaged beyond repair.”

Killian began to somehow sweat even more now even as he lightly began to tremble.

The Lord lifted an eyebrow even as he looked uninterestedly at Killian. “Did he now?” He then looked at her, his eyes roaming her body. The same way he did when she was forced to be beaten by another slave for his amusement. “Ah, yes. Your favorite toy. Lost almost because of disobedience.” He barely looked towards Killian, almost as if he was looking down at an unpleasant rat. “Fortunately for you, Killian.” The Lord spoke. “I am a forgiving man.” He did the slightest of motions then while looking at his son and her Master immediately gave her a tug even as they walked out of the pits.

Lorgar: “Is that the one we need to kill? Because I will.”  
Angron: *Grins and chuckles darkly* “...don’t worry about him.”

There they were joined by Breeder, who gave a look of pure shock towards Sleeve for just a second as they walked the streets back to the estate.

Konrad: “Set it all up, hoping she would die. Despicable.”  
Angron: “That was her biggest and only mistake.”

For once, it felt as if the entire walk passed by in a blur for her. They soon made it there and the two slaves were deposited in their quarters to wait for when they would be called next.

As their Master’s favorites, they had the distinct pleasure of being one door away from their Master’s bedroom. So that they could be called at any time.

It also meant that the two shared the room.

“How are you not dead?” Breeder asked, speaking up with a much more confident tone compared to hers. Her Master liked to talk to her sometimes, so she needed to know how to speak properly but… this was the first time Breeder had ever spoken to her, which rooted Sleeve to the ground.

“I’m sorry?” Sleeve asked back in utter shock.

“You were thrown in with those beasts and came out alive. How was that possible?”

“Uh-” She began, not knowing which words to use. How did one speak to another slave? Maybe… Maybe she just talks to Breeder like she did with Angron? What did he, no, the other one say…?

_ “You’re not a slave. Not while in here at least.” _

“Um… they didn’t use me.”

Breeder recoiled in shock. “Didn’t use you? Didn’t use you!? You mean you got a good night's sleep while I sucked off that fat bastard!?”

Sleeve waved her hands before her, holding them up defensively. “Well- I almost was! Then… Then he… He saved me and… And he yelled at me but then I was able to sleep- I didn’t mean to- I’m sorry-”

Breeder quickly dashed closer to her and grabbed a handful of her hair. “Do you have any  **fucking** idea how disgusting that cunt was!?” She leaned in closer to her face. “Reeked like corpse and fucked just like one as well.”

“I-I-I-I’m sorry!” Sleeve cried out even as she tugged her hair harder before pushing her away.

“I have been trying to get rid of your ass for a year, you stupid bitch!” Breeder then shouted at her. “Master doesn’t need you!”

Corvus: “ _ Even on Deliverance, we were all slaves! There was no point in turning on each other! We had to depend on each other to survive under the bastards that ruled over us! _ ”  
Angron: “That isn’t how it always fucking works, bird boy! Slaves turn on each other all the time on Nuceria! It’s either live as a slave or live as a slaver! No holds barred, winner takes all! Sorry, not every slave world works like fucking  **Deliverance** !”  
Corvus: “ _ They die. After this, they all die. I will not sit back and let them take another breath after pushing innocent people to the point that they eat themselves rather than band together… _ ”  
Emperor: “BOYS! I SAID LATER!”

“But-but-but-”

Seeing that Sleeve apparently wasn’t getting the message. Breeder once again grabbed her and shoved her against the wall. Her head thunking heavily against the hard stone, causing Sleeve’s sight to blur all of a sudden.

Then she pulled her back and did it again and again. A resounding crack sounding around the room even as Sleeves’ world spun as the pain rattled across her body and she fell to the floor. Double and even triple vision swirling about as the edges of her vision danced with black spots.

Mortarion: “If she isn’t seen by a medical professional in time, she will die. And since there is more to be seen, she will live. Any other regular baseline who goes through that trauma to the head would be severely concussed with a high chance of death.”  
Angron: “She’s stronger than that.”

“Finally… Master will be all mine…” She heard Breeder say in a greedy voice even as the door slammed open and the armour of the guards was heard, followed soon thereafter by the sound of a shocker going off and Breeder screaming.

Then everything faded to black.

**...**

The last time she dreamed she was a young girl who wasn't fully aware of her new life yet. She usually had a dreamless sleep or a type of lucid dream that made her relive the days she had gone through.

Her old dreams had been her escaping the slave quarters and going back to her mother, of fantastical ideas and schemes to leave and go back to the street. She could barely remember it all, the time she barely spent in that tiny home with the single red lantern her mother would light every night.

Roboute: “Rampant, widely accepted slavery, blatant prostitution, torture, child trafficking, and blood games, all for the amusement of a select few individuals and citizens who happen to have enough money!?”  
Angron: “That is Nuceria. Don’t forget the organ harvesting, the living furniture, the dark technology, the butcher's nails, the pleasure pins, the scramblers, the cancer growths, and don’t forget the rape, the torture, the kidnapping and all of the sick fucking games and auctions always going on.”  
Fulgrim: “I can’t watch anymore! Angron, please! Turn this off! You have proven your point! Nuceria is a terrible place and needs to be wiped from memory!”  
Angron: “No.”  
Sanguinius: " **_WHY!?_ ** ”  
Angron: “Because of  **him** !” *Points to the Emperor who blankly stares at Angron* “He has always pushed aside everything I went through on Nuceria!  **Forcing** the mantle of Primarch and Legion onto me! Forcing me to continue being a  **slave** ! I wanted to die! But he wouldn’t let me! All of you see me like a rabid dog, and I am! Now sit down and watch everything that happened-”

She barely remembered her, just that she sold her to the Thal'kr representatives when she was barely three.

She never saw her again, and her life of hell began. All for only a handful of silver.

But now, for the first time in so long, she dreamed.

Waking up in a soft bed, as nice as the Master's bed, next to a large warmth. A warmth that made her feel as if there wasn't anything that could hurt her as long as he was there-

Oh.

She turned, saw and felt how his massive arms were wrapped around her, using his massive bicep as a pillow while the other was thrown over her and keeping her close to him. The same gladiator, Angron, there beside her.

Angron: “...what?” *Turns to the holoprojector* “...you dreamt of me? Even then…?” *Winces, clutching his head* “ _ -shut up, shut up- _ ”  
Vulkan: “Why wouldn’t she? You were the first person to ever be kind to her. Of course she’d dream of you.”  
Horus: “Angron, just say the word- Just say the word and we can shut this off and just finish off Nuceria…” *Trails off when he sees Angron isn’t even listening* “-Angron?”  
Angron: *Silently watching the holoprojector*

He cracked open one of his golden eyes, a smirk on his face as he buried his face in her hair, holding her close and squeezing her tightly to him. She could feel the sprouting stubble on his chin rubbing against one of the spots on her head where the hair wasn’t fully grown back yet. “Morning.”

“Good morning,” she answered him, sounding much more confident and… at peace around him? She has never felt at peace, only heard about it in passing from the ladies of the house. But that was how it felt to just lie in bed, held tightly in the arms of someone who wasn’t hurting her, and actually wanted her to be there. “How long was I asleep?”

“Not too long. Go back to sleep, rest as much as you want.” He gently coaxed her back down, pulling the covers over them better. His arm that was over her now had his hand idly resting over her shoulder, the large hand practically covering her entire shoulder and back easily.

“But, don’t I have to work?” She asked while nuzzling into him and enjoying the peace.

“No. Never again.”

He sounded so sure as if there was no doubt about it. That she could just rest and lie there next to him. Actually wanting to lie next to someone, knowing he wasn’t going to do anything to her, knowing she was… What was that word again?

She answered him by closing her eyes again, breathing in the clean scent and not thinking about the Master, the slaves, Nuceria, her work, their lives, nothing. Just peace. Peace and…

“Can I hold your hand?” She asked, looking up at the overly large man. He laughed at her as if that was a ridiculous request. She was embarrassed, but before she could retract her statement, he moved his hand from her shoulder and held her own two that were bunched up between them, right in front of her thundering heart.

Feeling him hold her so gently, protecting her…

She never wanted to wake up.

It would be so easy to let go and just dream forever. Dream this sweet image forever, never have to wake up to the reality of her life, have to be used, beaten, fucked, humiliated, anything! Just… Just rest.

Just rest and stop trying to wake up.

No one trying to kill her, no one telling her she’s nothing, no one branding her, cutting her, hitting her, shocking her, pulling her, groping her, raping her, kicking her, choking her, nothing.

Just a sweet dream.

She had met an angel, and she never wanted to go back.

Angron: *Still silent*  _ Just dream. Dream and never wake up… Was that all it took to see her?  
_ Lorgar: “Angron?”  
Emperor: “YOU’RE FREAKING EVERYONE OUT… YOU THERE?”  
Angron: “...shut it off…” *Bows head, not able to stand looking at the holoprojector anymore* “...just shut it off…”  
Emperor: “FINALLY. MAGOS, SHUT IT OFF.”  
Lehm: *Attempts to shut it off, but none of the runes are working and the vid keeps playing* “Omnissiah it’s doing it again!”  
Emperor: “HOW!? SHUT IT OFF! NO ONE WANTS TO KEEP WATCHING!”  
Lehm: “It’s refusing to shut off!”  
Ferrus: “Oh no.”  
Magnus: “I have a really bad feeling about this…”

**…**

Then she felt as her eyes opened…

Everything was still slightly blurry. Out of focus as the triple images danced in her vision, before all coming together into one unstable and shaky vision. And as always…  _ pain _ .

Emperor: “LET ME SEE THAT THING-”  
Ferrus: “I as well!”  
Fulgrim: “Please hurry I don’t know if I want to listen to a second more! I just know it’s going to get worse!”  
Emperor: “WAIT HOLD ON- NOTHING IS WRONG WITH IT! IT’S JUST REFUSING TO SWITCH OFF!”  
Ferrus: “Well, let’s just unplug it-”  
Lehm: “UNPLUG IT WHILE IT IS IN USE!? Omnissiah, please! Don’t do something that rash!”  
Emperor: “I AM TEMPTED TO DO THAT, LEHM!”  
Angron: “Just fucking do something…”

She felt herself let out a slight groan as she attempted to shift her head.

Immediately, a woman was above her, looking down at her. The robes of a healer adorning her body, yet she looked as identical to her as if she was looking into a mirror.

“Good, you’re awake.” The Healer spoke, retreating to retrieve something apparently as a few seconds later, she felt the sharp prick of a hypodermic in her arm and the world coming into focus a lot quicker.

Medical stims, she knew that one. Those have been used on plenty of pleasure slaves to keep them up for work. Everything became clearer as her vision became crystal clear and her senses came fully awake, which meant she was acutely aware of how much her body was in pain, leading to her holding back groans and instead smile and glance around the room, ignoring the bloodstain on the wall.

“Don’t try to move. You went through a serious concussion. I was just barely able to control the swelling.” The Healer ordered nonchalantly as she returned to her bag and continued to rummage through it, the sound of light and heavy tools clinking together was vividly clear through her ears.

Sanguinius: “Is it fixed yet?”  
Emperor: “NO. IT’S REFUSING TO SHUT OFF! FUCK IT- MIGHT AS WELL SIT BACK AND SEE WHERE THIS GOES.”  
Fulgrim: “Father, I really don’t want to.”  
Ferrus: “I would rather do anything else.”  
Roboute: “I severely regret picking this up…”  
Magnus: “I’m so uncomfortable…”  
Leman: “I don’t have enough ale for this!”  
Lorgar: “Seeing Angron like this has already deeply disturbed me!”  
Vulkan: “Watching this just makes my hearts hurt…”  
Konrad: “All of you are a bunch of weak willed pansies! Nostramo wasn’t as bad as Nuceria, but it was pretty fracking close!”  
Mortarion: “Barbarus was a radioactive hellscape. I can keep trudging on, if the rest of you are going to be so weak willed.”  
Lion: “We’ve already delved deeply into the future and now past lives of our brothers, might as well keep going. We cannot leave a job half finished, how else will we know exactly who else to kill on Nuceria later?”  
Jaghatai: “We must push on, if the projector isn’t turning off, then might as well brave through whatever else is on the vid.”  
Rogal: “Yes.”  
Perturabo: “Might as well.”  
Corvus: “ _ It would be a disservice to this woman, who already went through hell already. The least we can do is watch it till the end. Does she not deserve our attention, for not being able to save her, as Angron has said? Have some respect for the dead, because at some point she will be free. _ ”  
Horus: “Angron? Will you be alright-”  
Angron: “ **_No_ ** . But keep watching… I don’t care…”  
Sanguinius: “...then push on, we go…”  
Emperor: “THIS IS GOING TO END REALLY FUCKING HORRIBLY…”

She still looked around, knowing that if she didn’t do something, the medical stims would make her want to do anything else. Ceiling? Walls? Bed? Yes, she was still in the shared quarters with Bree-

Oh. Oh yes, that’s right. Breeder tried to kill her.

...she could see why. She wasn’t important enough, it was fine if she died. Why didn’t she? She wanted to dream more, to sleep more. She wasn’t in pain and wasn’t having to work or anything. Why wasn’t she dead?

She would have been better off dead.

Angron: “No you wouldn’t…”

“You will need at least twelve full hours before working again, I recommend the full thirty-one, so you get a full day’s rest, but I’m not sure if your Master will see it that way.” The healer continued on, a matter of factly speaking, almost sounding bored. Of course, she would sound bored, no one should have to deal with her, she was just a meaningless slave. She felt sorry that this healer was wasting her time on her.

A few seconds later she felt another sting as yet another needle was shoved into her arm.

“For the shock.” The Healer explained before returning and beginning to mix up a cocktail. Mixing together some unknown powders and plants and… oh, it turned pink.

She knew that one, every Slave knew that one. You could be halfway dead for all you cared but that drug would keep you going until you literally dropped dead.

Mortarion: “A type of stimulant that would keep the body going? Suppressing the needs and forcing the person to keep going until it burned out of the system, or the body burned out?”  
Angron: “Yeah. Take a wild guess what it was used for.”  
Mortarion: “I don’t need to.”

The Healer poured some into a tiny glass before putting it down on the little table next to her bed.

“Your Master ordered that one after you rest. In order to make sure you perform well.”

Yes. Yes, work. Work was what she did, work is all she does. She does not matter. Rest for a while, then drink and work. Work until she dies.

_ “You’re not a slave. Not while in here at least.” _

...why did she remember those words? Some slaves have talked about being free before, but they never have the chance to ever get too far. They either died or became punishment slaves. Or made into an example…

Freedom wasn’t possible. She’s just going to die working and working until she can’t work anymore. What could freedom give her? Where would she even go?

_ “At least I would die by my own choice… and free.” _

...What if he had a point? He spoke with such conviction, so much strength behind his words, confidence, and trust in his own words made her want to trust in them too. No one else that she has heard speak of freedom has stuck with her like he had.

What kind of power did he have to make her want to believe in him? To want to believe in his convictions? What kind of man was he to practically ooze strength in his words alone?

Sanguinius: “Any person can talk to another, doesn’t mean they will stay in their minds… But a Primarch and his people? That would be enough to possibly rethink everything. Isn’t that right, Father?”  
Emperor: “EXACTLY. I MADE ALL OF YOU TO HAVE THE CHARISMA AND ORATOR SKILLS NEEDED TO INFLUENCE AND INSPIRE ANYONE WHO WOULD LISTEN TO YOU. ANGRON INSPIRING HER ISN’T OUTSIDE OF THE REALM OF POSSIBILITY, ESPECIALLY WITH HIM BEING KIND TO HER.”  
Angron: “I didn’t tell her that for my own benefit! I just… I…” *goes quiet* “...it doesn’t matter…”

She could see the healer was turned away now, putting her tools away one by one and carefully packing her healers bag.

It felt like everything was slower now, the movements becoming more and more sluggish as she kept thinking about what he said. How much he yelled at her, then still had the decency to not hit her and hold her.

_ He looked at her again. “That is what moves you? The fact that you are reminded that you are a slave?” The pity was gone now. Replaced only by anger. “You have a choice to not debase yourself and you want to go  _ **_back_ ** _!?” _

Now that she thought about how angry he was when she babbled about wanting to go back, she was thinking about why she wanted to go back. Isn’t that what she had accepted? Why is he the one to snap her thoughts and make her think of…

Think of…

She glanced at the floor, near her bed on the floor was a heavier instrument. Type of hammer or something… She barely knew what even a couple of these were called or how to use them.

She couldn’t-

_ “You have a choice to not debase yourself and you want to go  _ **_back_ ** _!?” _

Corvus: “ _ Come on! You can do it! Break the chains! Set yourself free! _ ”  
Konrad: “I’ve never seen the little Raven get so worked up before-”  
Corvus: “ _ Shut up, Konrad! I will always support anyone who would free themselves, I will always destroy a society that employs such deplorable acts! _ ”  
Angron: *huffs* “...good.”

She could just ignore it and work-

_ “You want to go  _ **_back_ ** _!?” _

...no she doesn’t.

Carefully, she leaned down and grabbed onto the thing, it was kind of heavy in her hands. She just… She just needed to hit her. Just one good hit… But… But does she deserve to do something like this? Can she do something like this? Is she as bad as Breeder is?

Fulgrim: “No! No, you are not! She tried to kill you because she just wanted to have that man to herself! You are trying to free yourself- But it’s also killing someone who had nothing to do with any of this.”  
Horus: “Is it better? I mean, she is trying to free herself, but like you said she’s about to kill someone else that had nothing to do with this… Is it moral?”  
Lorgar: “Do you really want to get in on that conversation? Don’t we commit immoral acts for the Imperium daily?”  
Sanguinius: “Yes, we do, but it’s for a reason that’s greater than what we are. We order the deaths of planets and people so we can continue the Imperium. We do our best to have them join the Imperium, to be Imperial Citizens, but when push comes to shove, we do what is necessary. But she is doing what she can to escape, but at the same time is doing something that counts against her. It is both moral and immoral.”

_ “THAT! Is how I know what freedom is! That is how I know that this isn’t natural. And that is why, first chance I get, I am breaking every single slave owning bastard’s back.” _

It all happened in an instant. Just a second, she remembered his words, his convictions and the next, she was staring at the body of the healer who she just struck with all of her might. Right there on the back of her head. She was silent and shook in place as she just realized what she did to that woman.

Konrad: “She took her chance. Even I can’t blame her for it.”

Oh god, she just...

She just…

She was half off, half lying on the bed, shaking her trying to see if she was still alive, awake or something! She heard the woman groan, making Sleeve panic. She thought about hitting her again, but how would she know where to hit? Maybe it would be easier if she hit the same spot again? But how would she-

Her mind raced. What now!? What  **_now!?_ ** She didn’t think she could go through with it.

Somehow managing to get out of bed, she almost by pure instinct drank the tiny glass of pink liquid, feeling as it went down her throat and energized her almost immediately.

Another groan came from the healer, who was still collapsed on the ground. She grabbed the hood of the woman and pulled it away, showing the angry spot she hit the first time. Maybe just one more time, and she could just end it.

She raised the tool…

And brought it down on the same spot where she hit before.

There was a crack.

Then the Healer laid there. Not another word spoken.

She… she killed her…

Mortarion: “Direct hit to the Parietal lobe. Most likely dead or severely paralyzed. Unless they have Imperium grade Apothecaries, she is as good as dead.”  
Angron: “Nuceria has the healers to save people, but use it to make more slaves and make them little more than flesh golems. If she is alive, I doubt they will help her out of the goodness of their hearts…”  
Fulgrim: “What else is this planet capable of!?”

But she couldn’t stop now. Not now! When she had gotten so far!

Wait! Wait-wait-

Rushing down to the healer’s side, she turned her around revealing her look-alike’s face. It was almost as if she was looking at her own corpse, would she have looked like that if she died? Not wanting to dwell on that, she immediately began to strip off both of their clothes, going almost manic with worry while doing so.

Who knew when a guard or even Master himself would walk in?

Master?

No. Not anymore she supposed. She would be free. Or die. Just like he said.

She adorned the healer’s robes. Then thinking further, dragged the healer’s body to the bed in the same position as she was in before.

Corvus: “Smart girl.”  
Sanguinius: “She just needs to work on her confidence.”

She just managed to do so and pull up the cowl of her robes as the door opened.

“Any luck Healer?” Came the silky smooth voice of her former Master.

Sleeve took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Attempting to steady herself.

What did healers do to bodies when they died? Think, think, think! She has to know if she doesn’t- What if he comes closer and looks at the body!? He would know that wasn’t her! He would know what she did and everything would be worse for her!

She panicked, pulled the sheet and covered the body, maybe if he didn’t see the body, he wouldn’t suspect anything?

Mortarion: “By panicking and trying to hide the body, she makes the universal sign of passing. That must either be pure dumb luck or something. With how much she’s panicking, that shouldn’t work-”

She must have done something right, since he sighed quite heavily behind her from the door. She guessed the sheet was a good idea?

“A shame.” He spoke in a regretful tone. “What was wrong?”

Mortarion: “Wow… it actually worked.”

Oh-oh no! Think! Think! The Healer said-

“It…” She stopped and cleared her throat, she couldn’t sound hesitant or like herself, if she did, he would know. The healer sounded different from her, she sounded more confident! Sound confident! She just- Oh! YES! She remembered what the healer said! Maybe she could use that? “The swelling from where she was hit against… the wall was too… severe. Concussion, I got here too late. I’m sorry.”

Mortarion: “... fair enough of a diagnosis to be fair.”

She turned around, hoping against all odds that her face didn’t appear scared or as full of fear as she felt like.

“I tried my best.” She continued on, remembering how the Healers liked to protect their reputation. “Used a lot of stims.” She nodded towards the still arrayed needles of the bag and leftover tools from mixing the pink colored drug from earlier.

“A pity. She was one of my favoured slaves. It seems both of them will now be lost.” The Master sighed again, turning to the door and leaving the slave quarter. “I shall send some guards to dispose of the body. No use anymore. You will receive reduced pay from my captain. Begone.” He left her there as a couple of guards came in and fully wrapped the covered body and began work to remove her.

Lorgar: “I am beginning to think that all of the luck that had abandoned this woman in the early parts of her life is deciding to apologize to her by making up for it in a matter of minutes.”

Meanwhile, Sleeve nearly collapsed from relief at how she just survived that. She had never felt so stressed and panicked before in her life! And now- Now- now- it’s all over?

She was free?

And getting paid!?

What even was pay!?

Corvus: “Honestly… poor girl.”  
Angron: “That’s how she freed herself.” *Small sigh*

**_...  
_ ** **_Two weeks later  
_ ** **_..._ **

“Thank you for coming.” She bowed her head slightly even as the Lord left the tiny apothecarium, his slave in tow.

In the coming days since her assuming the role of a Healer, she had found out that her name was Falaere… she quite liked that. Named after a Nucerian saint who was rebirthed and reinvented herself, kinda suiting… Even more, Falaere had owned a tiny apothecarium and even had a couple of employees.

What’s more, Falaere had been fairly new and was just released from the Healers guild.

Learning to read and speak properly had been difficult. She needed to stay up most nights with little to no sleep some days, cramming as much information as possible. But now she was able to do basic numbers and read enough to operate the Apothecarium in about two weeks. She still felt as if she was doing everything wrong, she could barely read the textbooks Falaere- SHE. She kept from the guild. At least there were lots of pictures she could follow.

Life… wasn’t bad.

Lorgar: “I enforce my statement on luck.”  
Corvus: *Slowly beginning to smile* “At the very least her fortunes have turned for the better.”  
Roboute: “I do think it’s admirable for her to work on her skills, even sacrificing sleep to improve. She really is more intelligent than she gives herself credit for.”  
Angron: “She was…  _ she was… _ ” *The nails bite as he refuses to even wince at the pain*

And not just for her. She tried as hard as she could to help the Slaves that came into the shop along with the poorest of people.

She might not have been experienced in medicine much herself. But over her relatively short life, she had seen and sustained so many injuries she knew how to fix most. Especially since most used to be done to her…

It helped that the books had illustrations on how and what to do, mostly step by step. And the notebooks of notes from the guild were found after she dug through Falaere’s-  **her** bedroom. And what to mix and match to get the drugs right. Those had taken the longest. And had some  _ really _ close calls. As it turns out if you added even a gram too much of something it could blow up in your face… literally.

Perturabo: “Yeah. It does. I think most of us learned that the hard way when mixing chemicals.”  
Emperor: “YOU THINK THAT IS BAD? FOR A REALLY LONG TIME PEOPLE DIDN’T EVEN KNOW WHAT RADIOACTIVITY WAS. RESEARCHERS CARRIED LIVE URANIUM AND OTHER RADIOACTIVE MATERIALS AROUND IN THEIR POCKETS OR AS PART OF NECKLACES.”  
Perturabo: “I swear, how the fuck did humanity survive this long…”  
Rogal: “Perseverance. And stubbornness. Our Father is a prime example of this.”  
Emperor: “...DID YOU JUST MAKE A JAB AT ME, ROGAL?”  
Rogal: “I have made a verbal jab at you as you are the embodiment of humanity, Father, and as a result, you embody even the most foolhardy parts of humanity as well. That. Is the joke.”  
Emperor: “I… WON’T GET INTO THIS.”

She still felt as if everything she was doing was wrong and she was too useless to help people and everything she is doing was completely meaningless and no matter what she did all of it was going to come crashing down! But from what she did know of her time here, was that she was actually pretty good at remembering pictures and remembering all of her first-hand experiences. So she wasn’t a total failure!

It was still odd to wake up in her own bed, wearing so many clothes and actually making money. She kept thinking she was going to wake up back in the slave quarters and this was all one giant dream.

Or maybe the gladiator, Angron, wasn’t real, and she died being fucked mercilessly in the slave pits. That maybe she was in heaven.

No. No, heaven wouldn’t have slaves, would it? So maybe she was alive. Alive and living a dream. A dream that cost the life of someone who just… happened to look like her.

“Hello? Miss?”

“SQUEE!” She jumped slightly as she realized she was just standing at her counter staring off into space. Apparently, there was someone there to see her? “Ah- yes! Yes, hello! Welcome to my apothecarium! How can I help you?”

Roboute: “...did she just… squeak?”  
Fulgrim: “Like a mouse. Or a canid’s toy…”  
Angron: “...she squeaked a lot.”  
Roboute: “I had no idea people could squeak like that…”  
Emperor: “YOU HAVE NOT BEEN AROUND ENOUGH WOMEN.”  
Magnus: “And you have?”  
Emperor: “I AM A LITTLE OVER FORTY THOUSAND YEARS OLD SONNY.”   
Magnus: “Roight… And you being single now is just all of that experience biting you back, isn’t it?”  
Emperor: “WELL TECHNICALLY I’M… YEAH, I’M SINGLE.”

The young man, looked to be a cattle slave. Well kept too, since he only had the collar on and the brands, but nicer looking tunic and sandals. Carried a bag with him that had a strap across his chest and over his shoulder. He shook his head slightly and leaned closer to her, like he had been exasperatedly waiting for her to notice him at some point for a while now. “Do I need to repeat myself?”

“Uh…” She tried to figure out what he wanted, but couldn’t remember anything. She needed to stop spacing out like that… “I’m sorry.” She just did the same thing she always did, she smiled and apologized.

He sighed, as if done with her shenanigans. “I said I’m here from my master with a request for your services. He deals with lots of high profile gladiators and needs you to come by and patch them up.”

“Yes! Yes, I can do that!” She squawked out a bit too loudly, nervous about accepting a big job like this.

The Slave blinked owlishly. Obviously surprised that anyone would want to go even near the bloodthirsty beasts. “So, in terms of price-”

“You can explain them to me.” Bast, her assistant walked up, giving Falaere a little grin. He was a former slave himself apparently.

Bast was a complete godsend! He was at first suspicious of her, but since she made sure to pay him- she knew what pay was now!- he helped her and continued on. Seemingly fine to keep working for her. Thank you Bast for being so good! She would give him an extra prayer tonight!

“Fine, my Master has already agreed to pay top coin for these gladiators. They’re fan favorites and many houses are fond of them as well, so we are willing to pay a thousand silver for each of the lower ranked ones on the list, and everyone from Johaven to Oenomaus will be five hundred gold. Angron will be up to two thousand gold if you can even help him.”

Lorgar: “Ah… so this is how she came to you again.”  
Angron: “All because little shit lord wanted to have his precious stock all healed up and taken care of for the next blood game.”  
Lorgar: “Well, it sounds like he signed his own death there.”  
Angron: *Chuckles* “Yes he fucking did…”

Angron? She stopped and remembered the words of the gladiator who gave her the courage to escape. To kill… But to also help… She had to go now! “We accept!” She quickly agreed while Bast gave her a look.

“Without haggling, my Lady?” Bast questioned, but she waved it off.

“We should be fine!” She quickly answered, excited at the idea of seeing Angron again! Besides, those were big numbers, so that should be good right?

“Are you sure, my Lady? These are beasts. Bred for war-”

She waved a hand at him. “I can deal with them! Don’t worry about it!”

Both the Slave and Bast looked at her as if she had gone completely off her knocker. But well… Bast knew his Mistress. Once she made up her mind…

**…**

The streets were busy. The last of the Blood Games had just been played and the people were leaving the arena of Desh'ea en masse. She and Bast were weaving through the crowds, heading to the opening of the pits with their letter of invitation and passage. When she showed it to the guards, they let her and Bast in and the smell of the pits hit her like a physical wave.

This was a bad idea, why did she think this was a good decision? She could barely handle the smell of this place oh god she made a bad choice she was so stupid! She just dragged herself and Bast down into the pits to see Angron and take this job just so she could see him again this was such a terrible idea why did she agree oh she was so stupid, stupid, stupid!

Emperor: “SHE REALLY FREAKS OUT OVER EVERYTHING.”  
Leman: “Isn’t she goin’ down into the same place where she almos’ died?”  
Emperor: “VALID POINT.”

“My Lady?” Bast asked, snapping her out of her reverie. She looked back to him, a smile still plastered on her face, showing how nervous she was at this moment. “Are you alright? Should we cancel?”

“No!” She squeaked out, “No, it’s fine, I’m fine! Let’s go, shall we?”

“If you are sure my Lady.” Bast gave her a wry smile even as they showed their permission slips to the guard at the entrance to the caverns.

They escorted them down to the hall and pointed towards which cage was their destination. It was filled to the brim with injured slaves but looking a bit neater and less populated than the other cages.

Then they stayed by the pit entrance, not going any deeper within.

“Wait? You aren’t coming with us?” Bast demanded, reeling on one of the guards.

“Not our business. We aren’t getting paid nearly enough to risk our asses for a couple of healers.”

Roboute: “Glad to see that lazy workers aren’t unique to-”  
Horus: “Roboute, let it go. Ever since you saw that one vid of workers in the 41st Millennium and how lazy they were, and even the two guardsmen in that last vid, you have been complaining about lazy workers. Let it go.”  
Emperor: “LET IT GO.”  
Roboute: “But it is inefficient-”  
Emperor: “CAN’T HOLD IT BACK ANYMORE, CAN YOU?”  
Roboute: “Yeah! And it’s your fault! You’re the one who made my mind like this!”  
Jaghatai: “Ouch. Backfire.”  
Angron: “If I hear one more fucking word about efficient workers while watching about fucking Nuceria I will personally turn him into corpse rations for the army!”  
Roboute: “I’m sorry… I’m sorry… in my defense, it’s akin to the nails biting into me.”  
Magnus: “I will defend Roboute on this one. It's merely in our nature. Not like it was our choice.”  
Angron: *Huff*

“You-” Bast began to retaliate but Falaere held up a hand, the other still clutching her Healer’s bag.

“It will be fine. They won’t hurt us.” She assured Bast who once more looked at her incredulously. She gave him a reassuring smile, “I promise.”

Bast searched her face, then sighed uneasily as he agreed. It was his job to follow where she led, so… So he would follow her no matter what. He just hoped she just wasn’t optimistic for no reason...

“Right! So, let’s get to business!” Nodding to him, she turned back to the cages and prepared to get to work. Though she was panicking on the inside of course. What if everything didn’t go well!? What if she was just being optimistic for no reason, oh she was going to get Bast killed, this was a terrible idea she knew being optimistic was a bad idea she should have stayed as a pessimist at least then life would be easier-

Oh. Oh, she was already at the cage door. She spaced out. Again.

A guard came by and unlocked the door, shoving the two healers inside before quickly locking it behind them.

Suddenly, all the groaning, talking and snarling stopped as Falaere and Bast felt every single pair of eyes in the cage turn towards them.

“Uhhh…” Falaere began, her nerves freaking out. “I’m a Healer... along with my assistant here… Yes.”

Jaghatai: “Lovely.”

A few grunts were heard at that, but otherwise, the silence was still the main noise of the cage.

“Is uh… anyone hurt?” She asked, her voice going higher pitched as she felt herself begin to panic again.

“I am not.” A familiar, older voice spoke. “But Angron is.” A Gladiator in the corner nodded towards the massive man who was sitting on the ground, leaning against the wall.

“I am not.” The gruff voice spoke up. “I will heal.”

Rogal: “A Primarch’s healing factor most likely can heal any nonmortal injury by essentially himself. Even some mortal ones.”

Perturabo: “Well… it’s not exactly obvious… maybe?”

“You broke your hands boy.” The older man lectured. “Let the healer have a look.”

Yes! It was him! If she helped him first, then maybe he could intimidate the others and everything will be alright! Yes! Flawless plan! “Bast, go and help the elder one, I’ll handle the big guy.”

Bast glanced from Angron to Falaere, then back and forth, “Are you sure about that? That’s… that’s Angron. The king of the arena-”

Falaere nodded, “Of course! I am a healer! And I know how to deal with big guys!” She instantly felt like dropping to the floor and crying, that came out so wrong in her own mind. Damn her for babbling out words! Just smile the pain away!

Lorgar: “I uh…”  
Fulgrim: *covers face* “Sweetie, no…”

*uncomfortable coughing*

It took Bast every little bit of his self-control in order not to slap his own face.

“If you say so, Mistress…” He trailed off even as she slowly walked over to the other side of the cage.

Which left her to approach Angron, who wasn’t looking at her. She took a deep breath and placed her Healer’s bag down, beginning to set her diagnosis. “So, I hear you broke your hands?” Oh, that sounded so stupid.

Rogal: *Facepalm*  
Angron: “Her wits… weren’t the  _ best _ …”

The Gladiator groaned, “If that isn’t a stupid question…” He muttered before he looked up at her face, seeing that dumb wide grin. His eidetic memory quickly pieced together everything he saw and soon he blinked a few times as he fully regarded her now. It was her!

“Sorry… I’m still new at being a healer…” Falaere answered, beginning her full body examination. “Just a bit nervous…” It took her a few tries to get close enough to check him out, lifting an arm and moving him about slowly as she tried to find any other places he may be hurt. Usually, she would ask what happened, but from what she remembered of the few times she saw one of the blood games, it was a terrible thing to remember. She wouldn’t want to remember it either...

She felt up the massive hand that was as broad as her chest. Capable of killing with a single slap.

Feeling and tried to find a crack or see if the Gladiator would wince or make any indication of pain. She found neither.

“I… I don’t think it’s broken…” She spoke slowly, utterly perplexed at how this was possible. “I can get you a salve to make sure the bone heals nicely the rest of the way…” She muttered, reaching into her bag and applying the white, fatty cream even as it was instantly sucked into the Gladiator’s skin as she massaged his hands. Odd, but well, he was just a really big man. So not too odd, she supposed.

“I… think that’s it?” She asked herself more than him and began to step back, only to be gently pulled back and forced to look into his golden eyes.

Mortarion: “Well… not a bad job? And… Did she really just call Angron a really big man?”  
Rogal: “I believe that is the definition of an understatement.”  
Angron: “She was the only person to see me as just a man, you know. It’s refreshing.”  
Fulgrim: “Yes… I can see that.”

He studied her, intently looking her over.

Then, the tiniest smile appeared on his face as he pulled in her hand and kissed her knuckles before covering them with his other hand.

“Thank you.” He spoke gently even as he released her and leaned back against the wall.

She felt hot in her face, the feeling of his lips on her hand made her want to bury herself into the ground and squeal like a young girl. Or maybe just jump off a building. Or into a sword. Kind of a mixture there. She had never felt so excited and happy to have someone… do that to her! It was amazing! She would never forget that feeling in her life!

Jaghatai: “Never took you for a flirt brother.”  
Angron: “What? I just kissed her hand!”  
Fulgrim: “Such a gentleman!”  
Angron: “What!?”  
Sanguinius: “No wonder she fell for you.”  
Angron: “I… I… I think I know how the blueberry feels now…”  
Roboute: *Slaps thighs* “Thank you!”

She… She didn’t want to be away from him… Just- Just a few more moments! “Actually, wait, hold on…” She grabbed his head and turned him from side to side, “I swear, I think there’s something wrong with your neck… How does your head feel?”

This was so surreal, he thought. To have this girl here, the same girl he saved from being devoured and- the same girl who couldn’t understand what free will was. The same slave that babbled about going back to her abusive Master and be used as a beating toy for his own pleasure, was in front of him. Happy, healthy and a healer. How did she do it?

Slaves don’t just escape and have normal lives. But she did it. Just a couple of weeks after he yelled at her, maybe convinced her. Was he the reason why she was able to escape? Did he inspire her to fight back? Did he inspire freedom into her?

If a nearly broken pleasure slave was able to be so inspired by his words alone, by a kind act, and escape and be free… What about him? The rest of his brothers and sisters of the pits? If she could do it, why couldn’t they?

He needed a plan, a plan and to convince guards and others to follow him. Had he been holding himself back? There had been a small voice in the back of his mind that perhaps freedom was a fool’s dream, that he would forever be stuck in the pits fighting for his life and being pumped with untold amounts of sedatives. But now, even he was inspired to fight harder for freedom! He just needed a plan of action…

But for now, he just enjoyed having her soft hands run along his face, savouring the moment of just having someone give him attention. She really was stronger than most, and even he would have given her credit for. Combined with her looks, her ability to smile through it all, he began to see her in a new light.

Lorgar: “So this is how it started?”  
Angron: “I inspired her, she inspired me.”  
Sanguinius: “The beginning of both, huh?”  
Angron: “Both?”  
Sanguinius: “Obviously your own love for her, too.”  
Angron: *Grumbles*

**_...  
Three months later  
_ ** **_..._ **

Coming back to the slave markets made her want to retch. All of these people, begging to be saved, knowing she couldn’t buy them all. Knowing she couldn’t help everyone, knowing that many were going to live lives that had been as bad or worse than what she knew of.

But she had to come here, she had a job to do.

Roboute: “Wait? Why are we back at this horrid place?”  
Angron: “We had a plan. A really fucking good one.” *Sadistic grin*

“Do you see any good candidates, Bast?” She asked him, looking through the overcrowded cages. She had to look away from the cages filled with children, as horrible as it sounded, they weren’t going to be… use… useful- God, she felt sick!

“Ah, young Healer. What a coincidence.” A silky smooth, far too familiar voice came from her side, causing Falaere to brace herself. She had gotten far better at confronting her past. “Lord Thal’kr.” She turned and bowed her head in respect, keeping her hood covering as much of her face as possible to keep her identity from him. Even after all this time, she still feared the idea of him finding out… and ruining everything she worked for.

“In the market for some Slaves I see?” He asked, his voice full of false good intent.

“I… am…” She answered hesitantly.

“Some for harvesting perhaps?” He asked even as he turned to survey the stock himself. “I know you healers are always after good organs and some such. Personally. I require a new pleasure and punishment slave. Sadly, none have thus far been able to replace the one I lost.” He paused then shook his head with a tiny scoff and laugh, “Apologies, the one  **you** lost.”

Corvus:  _ “Is this rotting carcass of a terrible example for human decency dead yet?”  
_ Angron: “No. And I have dibs on him. After everything his family has done to me, to her, to everyone, I want to kill him with my own two hands. I know he is weak and spineless enough to get rejuvenation treatments… So I know he’s alive.”

“I… I do require some for harvesting…” She continued in her slowly spoken voice.

“Then may I give you an offer myself?” He asked, a smile playing about the young Master’s face even as he pointed towards a cage on the stage where a fat, sweating man… Killian!?

Konrad: “Oh, how the tables have turned.”  
Angron: “Nuceria is like that to all. Sometimes it just turns out  _ good _ .”

“The man disrespected and disobeyed me. However, he lived a fairly relaxed life. Surely, his organs would be fitting for many patients no?”

She wasn’t a hateful person. She didn’t feel much of anything in her life, but looking at him… Looking at that man… She knew what hate was. He regularly hurt so many, all to suck up to the young Master… He regularly hurt the gladiators and used them as bargaining chips! Like prized canids!

But most of all, he hurt Angron.

“With how simple and relaxed his life was, I’m sure he must have very healthy organs…” She idly wondered aloud, knowingly speaking loud enough for the young Master to hear her. She had a long list of people who needed transplants… “But well… he is fat. I would need to starve him down and make sure he was in better condition. Fat organs are no good. Especially for your gladiators, young Lord.” She found that the more truth she mixed into her words, the more she forgot who she was speaking to and of. The easier the lies would come. “Indeed, not many healers would wager so much as ten silvers for him.”

Mortarion: “Wow… wasn’t sure if she had it in her.”  
Horus: “Well, she did kill that healer, so…”

She felt sick talking about people like this, knowingly hurting and even harvesting was something that kept her up at night. But… But it was Killian… Was it alright to not feel bad about doing this to him? Was she just like… Just like every other Nucerian?

“Truly? Ah, a shame that.” The Lord clucked his tongue. “What is it you would propose for me to do with him then?”

“Starve him, or work him until he sweats all of his fat off. If you sell now, you won’t get a good price for him. Many would try to undercut you. But if you sell him to me, I will pay you the extra to cover your base, and I can have a new cattle slave until he’s ready for picking. In exchange, you keep sending my apothecarium to care for your gladiators. A favor for a favor?” She spoke quickly, worried that she was able to throw out the suggestion so easily. Maybe she was as horrible as everyone else.

“Hmm.” The Lord nodded, seemingly pleased at the prospect. “Deal.” He spoke a second later, reaching out with his hand and shaking Falaere’s. He paused, feeling how soft her hands were. Weren't healer hands supposed to be hard and calloused?

Falaere started to panic, did he see up her sleeve? She hasn't had the time to see the sculptor yet, she needed to find one that wouldn't ask questions! She still had the slave brands on her body, all the scars- what if he noticed!?

No, he wouldn't! She bound her sleeves tightly, so they wouldn't flutter. Unless they came loose, he wouldn't see under them. Stop panicking, stop panicking! You are fine! Everything is fine!

She pulled away after a shake or two, "Thank you, Young Lord. Who shall I speak to, to finalize this transaction?" Be professional. Hopefully.

"Speak with my cattle slave, he does my book keeping and stock exchanges. I will make sure that no one else bids." Young Lord Thal'kr waved off the discrepancy, so what if she had soft hands? He was too busy getting rid of Killian and his idiocy. Costing him two good slaves that he still hadn't been able to replace!

She bowed her head slightly as the young Lord walked off to get a better view of the pleasure slave auctions.

As soon as he turned his back and slipped into the crowd, Falaere felt as she released a massive sigh of relief, no matter how much time passed, she doubted she would ever feel comfortable or even slightly okay with being around… him… Constantly keeping herself from screaming and crying, and not remembering everything that he did and-

“Mistress?” She felt Bast ask from behind her. “Were you that worried over a simple deal?”

She stiffened, turning her head to Bast as her nerves returned once more. “I uh- no! Of course not! Merely trying not to offend the young lord!”

Bast looked at her with some suspicion before slowly nodding. “The Thal’kr family are quite cruel.” He muttered more to himself than to her even as he scribbled something down. “I was able to begin bidding for Killian.”

“Ah. Really? What was the starting bid?”

“One silver.”

“Really?”

“Turns out, no one wants a fat bastard who used to run the pits.” Bast shrugged slightly. “That or because they can tell he’d be useless and stink up the place. Probably both.” He leaned in slightly closer to her. “The deal you made with the young lord most likely helped as well.”

“Do I hear two silvers?” The seller announced loudly for Killian even as no one in the crowd bothered making a motion in order to bid.

Kilian for his part appeared to be utterly horrified. Sweating even more than usual and seemingly denying that this was happening to him. No one spoke up. Damn the pride! Killian couldn’t just let himself be sold to someone who’d harvest him!

“Come on! I’d be a good sell! I promise I’d do my best no matter what! I’ll shine your shoes! I’ll be your chair! I’ll do anything! Please!”

Laughter suddenly boomed from some members of the crowd even as the seller displayed a pleased grin. “A jester as well! Do I hear  **two** silvers?”

Konrad: “You know? Seeing all of that injustice earlier… it is nice seeing some of it finally be paid back.”  
Leman: “It’s the best.”  
Angron: “Heh, it was one of the many things she made better on that shithole of a planet.”

No one bothered as the seller looked around.

“Sold! To…” He looked out and found Bast, motioning for him to come forward to the platform even as Killian was dragged away in chains and Bast along with Falaere stepped forward.

“Ooooo… Sold to a healer. Tough luck with that one. May not see him again! So look out for some deals on organ transplants in the near future, my friends! Listen for the squealing of a pig!”

Corvus: “Normally I would feel guilty for laughing at such a crude joke… but this time.” *Chuckles darkly*

More chuckles were heard from the crowd even as Killian was brought down the stage and his shackles were attached around a wooden pole as the seller's apprentices came around.

“Your brand and designation for the slave please, my lady.” One of the apprentices politely asked even as he slightly bowed his head and extended his arm.

Bast moved forward and deposited said brand in his hand even as Falaere looked over to Killian.

He was looking directly back at her. Eye to eye. Pleading with every fibre of his being even as what was left of his clothes were stripped off of him by another assistant wielding a knife.

“Cattle Slave.” She ground out, all of her hatred for him coming out as she took the brand and waited for it to heat, and with more malicious glee than she thought was possible for her. She ignored how the assistant wrote down her designation, admittedly having… not fun, but she was enjoying herself branding this pig.

God, she was just like any other Nucerian, wasn’t she?

Angron: “No… you weren’t.”

But everyone thought this the norm. Owning slaves and torturing them like this. To their eyes, after all, they weren’t human anymore.

The assistant rotated the brand around slowly in the furnace until he retrieved it a minute later, now glowing bright red from the heat.

Well… they would have to deal with it later, she supposed. But at least for once, the person getting the brand would deserve it.

And she didn’t flinch when she branded him, didn’t turn away when the stench of burning flesh hit her senses, she stayed strong. A terrible, angry wound of his designation directly on his flesh. Forever branded that he was cattle, that he was meant to serve in any way he could.

And she would make sure he would. Throw her into a pit of sex-starved slaves? Gleefully torture Angron? She will make him useful whether he liked it or not.

Konrad: “Justice!”  
Emperor: “DEATH TO THE NUCERIANS.”  
Angron: “Wait… you’re baying for-”  
Emperor: “LONG DEAD REFERENCE SONNY HOWARD. BUT YEAH, I WANT TO KILL THEM.”  
Leman: “HA!”  
Angron: “Wait! You forbid-”  
Emperor: “THE RULES OF IMPERIAL COMPLIANCE FORBID IT. BUT THERE ARE EXCEPTIONS.”  
Angron: “ _ Oh really… like  _ **_what!?”  
_ ** Emperor: “LIKE BREAKING MULTIPLE IMPERIAL EDICTS. AND KILLING AN IMPERIAL OF EXCEPTIONAL STANDING.”  
Angron: *Suddenly no longer caring about his father’s change of mind as rage slowly seeps into his mind once more and he takes a very deep breath*  _ “Finally.”  _ *Cracks knuckles*

**_…  
_ ** **_The Pits  
_ ** **_…_ **

“Keep up, cattle,” Bast ordered for her, he kept their new slave on a leash as he carried their bags. Why his Mistress wanted this fat sack of shit, he would never know.

This left her to carry their permission slips, showing them to the guards and allowing them access into the Pits yet again. She was glad that Bast did such a great job as a healer, he was the reason why they were called on by Lord Thal’kr to care for his gladiators so much. She just helped. But then again, maybe it was their lower prices that attracted the young Lord, they did a great job at a fraction of the price… Or maybe she was just bad at numbers and forget to add a zero here and there…

Magnus: “Just like Le-”  
Leman: “Numbers  _ hard _ .”  
Magnus: “Wha- what?”  
Leman: “Ha! Knocked you off course!”  
Magnus: “Fuc- ugh…”

Either way, she didn’t care. She got to see Angron!

Going down into the pits and getting that same sense of rot and blood didn’t matter to her. She gets to talk to him, to be near him! Oh… What if he… What if he kissed her hand again? He had done that almost every single time she saw him…

Sanguinius: “Every time, hmmm? Such a casanova…”  
Angron: “ **_Shut the fuck up bird brain._ ** ”  
Fulgrim: “Again… Such a gentleman…”  
Lorgar: “It is sweet, though…”

She felt like a little girl again, getting excited about something so little like this. Well, the short time she actually experienced that allowed her to be excited about something. For the first time in her life, she was actually looking forward to the next time she is touched. She still jumped and skittered when Bast just touched her arm to get her attention, but with Angron… It was so different…

What would it be like if it was… on her… l-lips…? Her face went red and she had to swat those ideas away. She couldn’t be thinking like that! She could barely be around other people, skittered with Bast, nearly breaking into tears being around Lord Thal’kr, why did she feel so comfortable with Angron?

Finally coming down to the bottom of the Pits, she was greeted by the same guards that had always worked here. The ones who have shot Angron and worked for Killian and thrown her into the Pits. Always the same ones.

What they have planned, it wouldn’t do to have them here. Or at least to look the other way…

“We’re here for healing. I’m sure you men are tired and ready for a break?” She asked them, putting on a confident smile towards them.

“We’re not going on break.” They answered, but elbowed each other, “We need food, drink, and something to help us along the way.”

A small bag of silver from her pockets to their hands, after unlocking the cages the guards were gone, but not before they spoke to her quietly, “We find any of them missing, no matter how much money you give us, the master will kill us. Got it?”

She promised no slave was going to be missing from their “watch”. Those few guards were to care for the entire floor, confident in knowing the gladiators were in cages and weren’t able to get out. So, of course, minimal guards were needed for keeping sedated and emaciated slaves in their cages. At least they had silver to get drinks, food and maybe even allow a few to roam the night streets. They made sure to lock the Pits closed while they were gone. Just in case.

“Mistress?” Bast asked, not sure why she was bribing the guards and why she insisted they brought Killian with them to the Pits. He had an idea but wasn’t sure if it was true or if she was crazy enough to possibly do it...

“Trust me, Bast.” She answered him, smiling at him comfortingly and quickly making her way to the cages and letting herself in, not sure if Angron could see how excited she was.

He could feel how excited she was to see him, it was radiating off of her so brightly he felt it reflect off of him as well.

“Angron.” She whispered even as she came close and hugged him. It had become a ritual that took weeks to build up the courage to even start. But it came naturally as she slowly opened up to him about her past and vice versa.

He consoled her over her killing the healer and she fed him news of what the world outside of the arena was like.

And then they had begun to plan.

They would get out of here. All of them. They would topple the High-Riders and free the slaves. Angron felt it as deeply and strongly within him, it was like his very blood was calling out to his destiny.

“Falaere.” He whispered back in his gruff voice even as the two separated, but were still within arm’s length of each other. Whispering was for the best, just because the guards were bribed to go elsewhere or turn their heads, didn’t mean anyone else couldn’t hear them.

“I found a way to scout the pits and arena.” She then whispered to him even as Angron’s eyes went wide with surprise.

Horus: “Oh… that is why she bought that useless pile of blubber.”  
Angron: “How else did you think I escaped? Needed to know the ins and outs.”

“How?” He asked. “You cannot bribe the guards. They aren’t to be trusted.” And they were too stupid, he thought bitterly. Being stopped by half-wit guards who held the power over you and kept freedom from you was beyond agonizing.

“It’s not the guards.” She whispered before waving Bast over. Bast hesitated, everything falling into place as he realized what was going on. “Bast?” She asked, worried about what was going through his mind.

“Are you sure?” He asked her back, looking back at Killian then back at her. A lot of questions in his eyes and in his stance, worrying her over the idea about Bast possibly wanting to possibly go against her and them…

“Yes.” She answered, “If you want no part in this, you can ignore it, I’ll do everything I can to make sure you aren’t implicated-”

“No. It’s okay.” He cut her off, sighing as he led Killian into the cage. His Mistress was always weird, so of course, she would get it into her head that she was going to help a slave rebellion. And if he let her go off and do it by herself, she would get hurt. In the end, as her apprentice, it was his duty to make sure she didn’t get herself killed. “Come, Cattle.”

Lion: *Approving nod* “I can appreciate that loyalty.”  
Angron: *Looks away* “He was a good kid…”

Falaere breathed a sigh of relief, then stiffened as she felt the anger, bemusement, and surprise that was coming off of Angron.

The other gladiators began stirring, smelling the familiar stench and sneering at the sight of the fat man. If the air itself could carry pure hatred, right now, it would reek with it.

“What is  **_he_ ** doing here?” Angron asked with so much resentment that Falaere felt a chill go down her spine.

She took a deep breath, not sure how he would take her buying someone… “I bought him. He was for sale and I thought… He would help…” She started to trail off, what if he was disgusted with her? What if he found out how much she enjoyed branding him? Oh god, she deserves to be thrown from the tallest point in the Thal’kr estate-

Suddenly, a chuckle interrupted them. Coming from the old man that Falaere had learned was Angron’s adopted father, Oenomaus.

“The girl is quick on her wits.” He praised. “You are indeed correct, he could be useful. But will he tell us what he knows willingly?”

“I sure as fuck hope he doesn’t.” Another gladiator sneered from a different part of the cage.

Konrad: “Oh… I do too.”

Before she could stop herself, the words came tumbling out, “If he doesn’t then I’ll harvest him starting from nonessential organs all the way until I reach his heart.” She quickly covered her mouth, not believing she could speak so hatefully and so… horribly about someone… monster, monster, she such a monster, how could she think of doing something like that to a person- no! No, he’s… He hurt people- so it’s not as bad? But it’s a person...

Killian began to babble behind her and plead even as Angron made eye contact with her. For a horrible split second, she expected him to judge her, but instead, he gave her a sadistic grin. “Will you go slowly?”

“...after everything he did, he doesn’t deserve a quick harvest.”

“Please my lady!” Killian cried out behind her. “I will speak! I will speak!”

She then turned to Killian, a sweet smile on her face that was anything but. “Then please, speak nicely to Angron here. If you promise to tell us everything, I’ll make sure you won’t be harvested.” She paused, then added, “But if I believe you are holding anything back, that will be an organ I take from you. Alright?”

She had never seen a pig cry before.

But oh, did the pig squeal. He squealed and guttered out as if he was being burned alive. He gave up every corridor. Every entrance. Every defensive measure. Every single detail of the layout. Everything.

Roboute: “Normally I would be against this cruelty, however in this case…”

And all the while, Angron sucked it all up. His advanced mind remembering every minuscule detail to the letter.

It took Killian nearly thirty minutes. But oh, he got out everything. Enough even for the other gladiators inside of the cage to begin and be hopeful that they just might just make it out alive.

“That-that’s all I know! I swear it!” He sputtered as he fell to his feet. His rings of fat splaying around on the cold stone floor.

“I believe you.” Falaere slowly spoke, trying to remember all of the information. There was so much to remember, she wondered if Angron would be able to remember it all. He was just a man, wasn’t he?

“Mistress.” Bast stepped forward and leaned into her ear. “If you do go through with this… Killian is… a leak.”

Konrad: “The kid makes a fair point.”  
Angron: “Oh he did… he made a  _ very  _ good point.”  
Corvus: “I like where this is going.”

She looked at him in shock. She honestly shouldn’t be surprised but… well… Bast was Nucerian…

“What do you suggest?” She asked him openly, only to see him wave his head over in the direction of the gate even as he released the chain that held Killian.

Ah...

“Yes, you are right. I did promise not to harvest him…” She began, seeing Bast’s point.

“But you said nothing about not leaving him here. Not our fault if there is an accident.” Bast shrugged, Killian nearby pleading for his life frantically at this point even as some of the gladiators began to stand. Grunting with pleasure at the prospect of killing their former caretaker. All of them had a grudge over the fat man, and all of them were practically salivating at the idea of getting back at him.

“My lady please!” Killian pleaded for his life even as Falaere looked down at the pig. Didn’t she plead? She never wanted to be thrown to the wolves, you know. She grabbed Killian, a smile on her face as always. This made Killian relax just slightly at her, hoping she wouldn’t-

“You know, this reminds me of something, something that made all of this possible. The Gladiators that aren’t fully sedated yet can have fun too. After all…” Echoing these words, made Killian go quiet, as he truly looked at her now. The same pleasure slave he threw into the Pits. He knew then what was coming, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. “They deserve a gift too. They are the ones who pleased the Lord Thal’kr with their performances. But unlike him, I’m fine with them having too much fun.” It was then that she threw him off of her, leaving him on the ground as gladiators came closer and began to surround him.

Horus: “Oh…  _ delicious irony. _ ”  
Angron: “She was so beautiful in this moment. I have never been that attracted to anything in my life at that point.”  
Emperor: “THAT IS BOTH EXTREMELY DISCONCERTING AND LOVELY AT THE SAME TIME.”

It was here that she quickly walked out with Bast, waving over at Angron who smiled pleasantly at her before beginning to stand himself.

They had just gotten around the corner when they heard the screams and the guards rushed to her. “What’s going on!?” They demanded, hoping they wouldn’t have to do work.

“Oh, nothing really. Just left my cattle in there.” She shrugged her shoulders. “They needed to unwind. Not good for the state of their mental health.”

She saw the guards relax slightly even as the screams reached their zenith. Going quiet seconds later with an unhealthy sounding gurgle. “Oh, fine. Thought we had to work for a second.”

Roboute: *Grumbling* “Lazy… damned… guards…”

**_..._ **

“I’m glad I was able to help you…” She admitted to him, able to sit in a slightly more private alcove, where they all could sit together and not have to deal with having to look at Killian’s dead body. Her, Bast, Angron and Oenomaus.

“I am thankful you were able to get this for me. I don’t know how to repay you for it.” Angron responded, both of them sitting closer together than usual.

Nearby, both Bast and Oenomaus watched their interaction. The elder rubbing at his temple as he watched his adopted son flounder about with his own attraction. He leaned closer to Bast, “Do you think they see the sparks flying or…?”

Bast was quiet, not looking at the two. He didn’t really know why she was so attached to the giant. “I dunno. I’m only here to make sure she doesn’t die.”

The elder fully looked to Bast, then back at the two love birds. “This is our only chance at freedom. Don’t mess it up. For any reason.”

Bast nodded, knowing that he was going to have to be silent about it no matter what he felt or did. He was in it now. Whether he liked it or not.

Falaere, meanwhile, was flustered. She was sitting so close to him, and he was thanking her and she didn’t know what she wanted from him! She really didn’t want anything from him, just knowing she was helping him was good enough for her! Even if she wanted him to keep kissing her hands or maybe even her lips- no! No, don’t say that that would be so awkward and horrible and embarrassing- “You could kiss me for it.”

Emperor: “MAGOS… DOES THE SKIP FUNCTION WORK?”  
Lehm: *Clicks rune* “No Omnissiah…”  
Emperor: “AH… FIGURES.”  
Angron: “I don’t want to see this either! It’s beyond painful to watch this, even remember!”

NO! NO WHAT DID SHE JUST DO!? OH NO NO NO SHE JUST SAID THAT OUT LOUD! WHAT IS WRONG WITH HER!? She freaked out internally, not really paying attention to Bast choking on his own breath and sputtering nearby, or Oenomaus burying his face in his hands and holding back laughter at the absurdity of the situation. She couldn’t even tell what Angron was thinking, she was freaking out on what she just said out loud-

“Sure.”

Jaghatai: “Slick as a running river brother.”  
Angron: “Shut.  **Up** .”

**Wait what.**

“It’s a simple request, not too difficult.” He shrugged, keeping a cool look on him. But on the inside, he was wondering what the fuck was he doing!? Sure, he kissed her hands and held her a lot, but what the fuck was this about!? He liked her, a lot actually, but he had no experience in this! This was new territory for him- wasn’t she a pleasure slave!? What if he did it wrong and made her freak out- shit shit shit shit- “Uh…” He was practically lost for words at the moment. “So. How do we?” He motioned with his hands as if she wasn’t sitting on his lap already. Well, no, she was next to him, but she could easily- I mean-

Fulgrim: “Simple request? My… I never took for a flirt brother.”  
Magnus: “It’s… quite comical to see you internally freaking out over it as well. Dare I say, cu-”  
Angron: “ **Don’t you dare.** ”

“Well, I uh… never kissed before… Well, I kissed! Just not someone on the lips and-” She babbled and tried to figure this out too. She really didn’t want to look back on her past, but well- maybe something could help!? NO! MOST OF THAT WAS SEX OR FOREPLAY! SHE DIDN’T THINK SHE COULD EVER HANDLE THAT! Wasn’t it just- just- you know, lips on lips and- THIS WAS SO DIFFICULT!

Nearby she could hear his adoptive father groaning into his hands, wanting to help and give direction, but knowing that this was too awkward to help out in. There were just some things that some people needed to learn for themselves. It didn’t mean he couldn’t be severely awkward and pained just listening to this.

“You’re the one who asked in the first place!” Angron shot back, the situation too awkward for him. But he kinda really wanted to…

“Well, it just came out and- maybe we just press them together and try it out-”

Horus: “Damn. Even my first wasn’t this awkward.”  
Emperor: “I’M SORRY BUT WHAT-”  
Horus: “Nothing. Just a servant girl.”  
Emperor: “... I DOUBT IT BUT OK.”

“I am willing to do that if you will stop making this awkward!”

“I am not making this awkward you just keep talking-”

“You’re the one starting it!”

“Well-fine!” She grabbed both of his cheeks, they felt so rough in her hands, dark stubble rubbing against her palms, how long was his hair brown? He was always shaven, so she never really paid attention. It felt incredibly weird since she never actually got to be so close to someone like this before. And before she could change her mind, dived in.

All the arguing and the awkwardness were worth it, this was the best feeling she ever felt in her life! It felt soft, and warm and gentle and right- She loved it and didn’t want it to end!

Angron thought that kissing was the best fucking thing in the world.

They both loved it. Clearly. Not thinking the least bit about how horrible and awkward it looked to Oenomaus and Bast who were looking away from the two. Oenomaus because he couldn’t handle watching his boy kissing and hoped it would end soon. And Bast, who felt as if he was dying on the inside.

Emperor: “UHHHH- I HAVE SEEN SOME SLOPPY KISSES IN MY TIME BUT…”  
Angron: “DON’T!”  
Fulgrim: “It looks like two Canids going at one another.”  
Horus: “You two definitely look like this is your first ever kiss.”  
Roboute: “I mean… this is pretty bad.”

When they finally pulled away, they both had to stop themselves from bursting into laughter at how absurd the entire situation was. Bast was just thankful they stopped.

Until they kissed again. At that point, Bast got up and left the alcove, proclaiming that looking at a dead body was a much more viable use of his time. Oenomaus quickly followed, not wanting to watch these two  _ literally  _ suck face.

It wasn’t as if the two could even see or hear anything going on around them in the first place.

Horus: “It had… good intent at least?”  
Angron: *Burying face in hands while the nails aren’t biting for once*

**_...  
_ ** **915.M30 - Nuceria,** **_Desh’ea  
_ ** **_..._ **

“How does that feel?” She asked the child who was on her examination table, from the clothes she wore, she was a common citizen, the same as her mother nearby.

The child flexed her fingers, looking down at the splint on her arm that kept it immobile. She looked at up Falaere, “Not moving?”

Falaere nodded, pointing out how the splint worked. “Correct! Your arm can’t move since you broke it. You need to keep that on a bit longer before you start feeling better. We would put a cast on, but we just don’t have the supplies for it. So this is the next best thing!” She smiled softly at the child, who looked back down at her splint.

“Thank you so much, the other apothecariums didn’t want our money…” The mother trailed off, bowing towards Falaere, “Thank you for your generosity!”

Waving her hands, an embarrassed blush on her face, “Please! It’s fine! Money is money, and to make up for the lack of cast, it was free of charge for me to reapply the splints! What’s most important is your health, after all!” Falaere waved it off, it was just common courtesy?

The mother, however, didn’t take it as common courtesy, “I am forever in your debt…” The underlying additional hung in the air, which Falaere was quick to cut off.

“No, it is to help. I’m not going to take advantage of anyone.”

Soon enough, she was able to send them off, waving them off and telling them to come again. But she paused and watched as the mother and daughter walked off hand in hand, watching how the mother was so gentle with her child, how the child looked at her mother.

How would she look with her own child?

She had been feeling quite sick for a while now, dreaming of a sweet little boy with golden eyes. She just had a feeling that she was carrying. She had been able to hold hands, and even kiss Angron and go further, but… She didn’t know if she would be ready to take that leap with him. After all her life, just thinking about it was… difficult. Sure, it was different to experience… passion… And their kisses having edged closer to something deeper, even going… well…  _ all the way once before _ …

It had taken a VERY long time to get to that point, however. Even to the point where they had talked about kid-

Just being by Angron’s side it would be enough to keep her happy. She loved him, and having a baby with him was...

Oh, but thinking it and telling him were two very different things. She hadn’t told him and didn’t know how to tell him, or even if she should tell him. On Nuceria, life was… painful and unstable. No environment any sane mother would want to bring a child into… She even doubted she would be a good mother since she never had one...

But it was okay! Because now… Instead of just drifting on in life, she had a job, freedom, and most importantly she had someone she cared about… She wouldn’t dare ask for anything more.

As she was cleaning up and straightening out the shelves, Bast returned from the markets. She turned to greet him but stopped when she saw the look on his face.

He looked as if the worst happened and had to break the news to her. “M-Mistress…” He stopped and swallowed, not sure how to tell her what happened. “A-Angron…”

“What happened to him?” She demanded, fully turned to Bast now, “Tell me! What happened!?”

“Angron is going to be nailed.”

Lorgar: “WAIT! Then that one time turned out to be…”  
Angron: “Yeah… yeah…”

It felt as if everything was falling apart, her breath stopped, eyes wide, hands loose and empty. She kept thinking that Bast was wrong, that Angron was fine, nothing was wrong, they were still planning and- and-...

And…

She started to move, going for the door, first instinct to run to the Pits and demand them to stop, to spare him. But she was barely able to make it across the room, Bast wrapping his arms around her torso and keeping her in the Apothecarium. She started to scream at him, hands pounding on him, “Let me go!”

“Mistress NO!” He tightened his grip on her, keeping her in the Apothecarium was his number one priority. If he let her run out to Angron now, then anything could happen! She didn’t have the power to stop it, not an order from the Lords. She would get herself killed telling them to stop. “Mistress please! You need to stay! You’ll get yourself killed!”

“I DON’T CARE!” She demanded, tears falling from her eyes as she struggled to get out of Bast’s arms. Dammit! Why did Bast have to be so much stronger than her, despite being shorter than her!? “Bast they’re going to nail him! I have to do something! **I have to do something!** ”

“There is nothing you can do, Mistress!” Bast countered, pulling her to the back of the Apothecarium, which made her thrash in his arms even more. “Please! If you go there, what are you going to do!? You don’t have the money to stand up to Lord Thal’kr’s order! You don’t have anything to offer him-”

“Yes I do!”

“What!?” Bast was bewildered, what did she mean-

“If it will save Angron, I don’t mind being a pleasure slave again! If I tell Lord Thal’kr who I am, I can save Angron! I just need to tell him! I just need to tell him!” She babbled out, desperate to get out and run to Lord Thal’kr, if she offered herself, if she took the abuse, if she just went back, she could help Angron!

Angron: “NO! How could you think about doing that!? Don’t do this to yourself…  _ please… _ ”

“A-Again!?” Bast had no idea what she was saying, why she would and what the hell she was even doing anymore! “What do you mean-”

“I-” She stopped, the adrenaline in her body cooling and making her sluggish as she accepted that it was out now. It was out and… She had to be honest. “My name isn’t Falaere, Bast… I’m not Falaere- Falaere is dead!” She shook as the life she built over the year came crashing down, all of her fears, her lies were being exposed. “I was one of Lord Thal’kr’s pleasure slaves, Sleeve… I am Sleeve… I killed the healer who was helping me because she looked like me… I killed her because I wanted to be free…” She hiccuped, not feeling the ability to fight back anymore, her past life like a leech that was sucking up all of the healthy blood she made over the year. “I killed her, took her place, stole my freedom… I never went to the guilds, I never went to school, I don’t actually own this Apothecarium- I am an escaped slave who did horrible things to be free! I lied to everyone, to you, to Lord Thal’kr, I lied and killed and cheated!”

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing, everything she was claiming couldn’t be true! But… But with unconfident she was, how much she stayed up to study, how much she praised his work, how much she insisted he was the one who deserved the praise… How much she paid him, how much she felt as if she was never good enough, how much she covered her body at all times, how uncomfortable she was around him, around Lord Thal’kr- Oh god… Oh god, she was telling the truth… “You… You were a pleasure slave… You killed my Mistress-”

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry Bast… I just couldn’t handle another day- I couldn’t handle another day of the beatings, the burning, the stabbing, the raping, the humiliation! I couldn’t handle it! But now if I have the choice to choose between saving Angron and being free, I’d rather he be saved!” She sobbed, collapsing to the ground as Bast held her there, keeping her from running off to hell. “Please Bast, I need to go… I need to save him… I can’t sit here and do nothing… Please…”

“What?” Bast unbelieving that she would do this. No wait, she would. She would jump straight into the bowels of hell for someone else. Of course, she would… “No. No, I won’t allow it. What do you think is going to happen?”

“If I offer myself to Lord Thal’kr, he would stop it-”

“No! He won’t! Angron personally insulted him! He refused to fight! If you offer yourself to him in exchange for Angron to be nail-free, do you honestly think he’ll keep his side of the bargain!?”

Mortarion: “The boy is correct. Once that filth knows your weakness, he will exploit it mercilessly until your dying day. Never tell your enemy your weakness.”

“He-”

“He won’t! As soon as he knows that you are desperate for Angron to be nail-free, he’ll have more incentive to do it! As soon as he knows who you are, he will stop at nothing to have you back! If he finds out you care for Angron, you will seal it done and still give up your freedom! No matter what you do, you can’t win!” Bast practically yelled at her, holding her close and burying his face in her back. He hated the idea that she used to be a slave to Lord Thal’kr, he hated that he didn’t see the possibility of her being an escaped slave, he hated that he was fine with her killing his Mistress! He hated that he was holding her for the first time, and it was to stop her from sacrificing her freedom to save a man she loved.

If only she hadn’t have met Angron…

Konrad: “Ironic, because if she didn’t, he wouldn’t have known her.”

**_…  
_ ** **_Hours later  
_ ** **_…_ **

It took Bast hours to calm her down enough to convince her that she couldn’t do anything, all the while struggling with his conscience. And well… even though he had met his mistress a mere month before she was replaced… he had mixed feelings.

His new mistress, she had challenged every single part of his mind that though slavery and indentured servitude were normal. She had even given him the freedom of choice to part from her.

Thus, he had to respect her. He knew what they did to the pleasure and punishment slaves. Especially the cruel Thal’kr family. Those people… even him, a trueborn Nucerian, bred and raised on the norms of slavery, found that type of servitude appalling.

And that was why he went along with it as they prepared for the slave rebellion.

For almost a year now they had been setting up networks of underground operation to free more and more slaves and get them out in order to prepare for the rebellion. They had even gotten some gladiators to convincingly have their deaths faked in the arena and managed to drag them off, though those were few and far between and cost an absolute fortune each.

Roboute: “That is some organization… why didn’t it work?”  
Angron: “There were too many of them. Too much tech on their side as well. They gunned us down.” *Grins* “But it wasn’t a bad death. We took  _ a lot _ of them with us.” *Suddenly goes somber* “...then I lost my will to live.”

The network had expanded at this point beyond their wildest proportions, his mistress quickly finding out that she wasn’t the only one trying to free the slaves and thought the society unethical, to say the least.

And well… Bast couldn’t blame her. Even less so now that he knew her history.

But Angron was unsavable.

And quite quickly, that measure of fear, shame, and worry in his mistress turned into pure, unadulterated, fury.

She didn’t like it, but she had a cruel side when she needed or wanted to have one. Killian being the best example.

And that is how they found themselves going to the arena yet again in the middle of the night, citing to the guards that they had come for a medical emergency. They were let in practically immediately with almost no questions asked. When they reached the bottom, they understood why.

Angron had been split away from all the other gladiators upon the threat of almost killing them. He had slaughtered all of the chirurgeons who had operated on him. All fifty. The entire stock that the arena had held.

To say that Bast was apprehensive about letting his mistress enter Angron’s personal cage was an understatement. He wanted to beg her to stay back, that once a gladiator had the nails, then there was no hope for them. Everyone knew that when the nails were in, you barely have a year or two left before… He knew that he would be little more than a wild animal, he would tear her apart, he’d kill her and-

“Angron?” She whispered, practically terrified of possibly speaking too loudly and making him angry. She hadn’t been this scared of him before, even when she was thrown into the Pits and thought he would take advantage of her. No, she was more terrified of him now than she ever would have been. “Angron…?”

A loud groan was the only answer, even as she fumbled with the keys and let herself in, overriding the part of her mind warning her about the danger.

Lorgar: “Brother?”  
Angron: “I wouldn’t hurt her… even then… That was the first time I couldn’t feel the emotions of everyone… It was… Isolating...”  
Konrad: “Only going to get worse.”  
Angron: “I know, you don’t have to bring it up, asshole.”  
Magnus: “Would you ever want that back?”  
Angron: “Doesn’t matter. The nails aren’t going anywhere, not until I die. Nothing matters.”

“Mistress, NO!” Bast attempted to reach for her, but his hand was unable to pull her back as she slid into the cage.

She took a deep breath and forced herself to walk into the cage, focusing on him and not on the body parts that were still littered in his cage. Almost like she was approaching a wild animal that would tear her apart and gleefully drink her blood. “Angron…” She whispered again, afraid to possibly reach out to him. Would he hurt her? Would he kill her? “Angron, I’m here…”

A loud roar startled her, making her skin shiver as he leapt up and grabbed her.

She closed her eyes, prepared for death. If this is how it would go… so be it…

Instead of tearing her apart, however… she felt as he slowed.

“Falaere?” He ground out, the noise toothy and filled with rage, almost as if he was reigning in something strong and nearly uncontrollable. Like a constant war inside of himself.

She reached up and cupped his cheeks, nodding, “I’m here. I’m here, Angron.” He wouldn’t hurt her, would he?

Lorgar: “She… didn’t fear you? Even then?”  
Sanguinius: “No, she did. But I believe she was so worried over Angron, she pushed aside her fear for him.”  
Angron: “The only good part about these fucking things is them blocking this crap out... I didn’t want to feel her fearing me…”

He pushed her away. “Get out!” He groaned. “Get out!”

“Angron?” She asked carefully stepping back towards him.

“GET OUT!” He yelled. “BEFORE I KILL YOU! I CAN’T CONTROL MYSELF! GET  **OUT!”**

The order he gave her was like a physical weight, manifesting itself and pushing her back like his words had a power that could control others. But she shook it off, taking another step towards him, “No. I won’t leave you alone! I won’t sit back and let you suffer alone!”

He grabbed her again in his massive hands, she felt as they shook as if they had tremors.

She tried to look up at him, at his glowing, golden irises. “You won’t.” She whispered even as she reached up and cupped his cheek. “But… if you do…” She stood on her toes, reaching up and giving him a kiss which he didn’t reciprocate. “It’s okay. Knowing you has been the best thing that had happened in my life. If I die, I’ll die knowing I spent it with you. I love you too much to leave you behind.”

He groaned again, feeling the pain. Not physical but psychological. “I… killed him.” He ground out. “They made me… kill Oenomaus…” He confessed, thumping down onto the ground as he released her. “I  **killed him…** ” He ground out again, feeling tears come to his eyes. “He was my father, and I  _ slaughtered _ him!”

Lorgar: “What!?”  
Angron: “They… made me… I couldn’t control myself… I got those fucking nails because I wouldn’t kill him… They nailed me, then made my first kill him. They made me do it. Those bastards made me do it!”  
Emperor: *Slowly beginning to actually get furious*  
Roboute: “That- that… there are no words…”

Her heart broke for him, knowing those things made him do it. Knowing that the lords-... No. No, the  _ High-Riders _ did this to him. They did this and now Angron was… She hugged him, holding him as tightly as she could. The pain he felt was palpable in the air, it was strongest where she stood as if he was projecting his pain for all to feel. And now… Now…

Oh god, Angron was going to die… He would only have a year, two? Three at most? Everything they had been planning, everything they hoped for, everything they wanted to reach for… All of it was going to be lost. “I’m here. I’m here for you, I’m right here.”

They only had so much time left. They only had so much time before everyone would be for nothing. She wouldn’t stand for Angron to rot here in the Pits after being forced to kill Oenomaus! He needed his freedom now! Now, before it was too late… “I’m here, and I won’t go anywhere. I promise you.”

“I might kill you…” He warned, slowly hugging her back even as the Nails bit harder, demanding more blood and skulls.

“Well… don’t kill your son.”

Lorgar: “Oh… I was right…”  
Angron: “You were…”

“What?” He asked, half thinking that he had misheard her even as she took one of his massive hands and slowly reached down with it until it was on her stomach.

“He’s growing really quickly…” She muttered slowly even as she looked him back into his eyes. “I… I found out this morning… You’re going to be a father Angron.” She reached up and cupped his cheeks, even as tears fell from her eyes in both happiness and fear. Would he even be able to hold him? To meet him? “I’m having your baby.”

Damn them. Damn them all. Damn ALL of them! He refused to fight, he refused to kill just once, and then- then they just shove these nails into his mind! They mutilated him, made him kill Oenomaus and now-

Now he was still stuck in the Pits, about to be a father and he’s still just a slave. A slave with nails and a timer. What would happen if… If their son was just like him…?

What if they  **took** him?

He held her protectively, a deep, dark growl coming from him as the nails bit harder. No. No, they wouldn’t. He won’t let them. They wouldn’t get their damned, dirty fucking claws on him! He will make sure of it! He will have his freedom  **_now_ ** !

“Falaere…” He ground out. “Give the signal… we need to get out…  **_now._ ** **”**

She nodded, tonight was the night, huh? She was terrified, she had never been a part of a rebellion before. She didn’t know what she was going to do, how she was going to help in the coming times… But as long as she kept doing her best, and was by his side, then she would be able to do anything.

Absolutely anything.

“I’ll be here. To the end.”

He grabbed her hand, as gently as he possibly could even as they held each other for a few minutes before she slipped out.

They had work to do.

Corvus: “Finally.”  
Angron “It ends badly…”  
Leman: “It ends with a fight. A damn good one too.”  
Lion: “With conviction in your heart and a fight for a good cause.”  
Roboute: “Giving your life in a just war is nothing to be ashamed off.”  
Angron: “... stop it. All of you.”

“Bast. Pack as much of our supplies as we can carry. It happens tonight.” She ordered him, looking stoic, controlled and not like the nervous mess she currently was. He silently watched her as she left the cage, not a scratch on her.

This was it. The point of no return. If he followed her here, if he went along with her and into this, there would be no turning back. Leave behind the constant and stable life they lived, but forever watch as society kept debasing themselves with slavery… or take a chance and rebel for the chance to lead a better life. But also a chance at losing it all… A gamble that could reach for heaven or hell. He knew what his answer was, even before thinking about it.

Wherever she goes, he goes. “Right away, Mistress.”

...

“Move it, slave!” The guard commanded even as he whipped one that was busy mining precious ore in the depths of the cold mines.

Corvus: “Wait… I recognize that sound…”

The cries of pain and reverberating noises of clinking pickaxes were heard all over.

Corvus: “Ah…  _ not limited to only the surface. _ ”

And like the bearer of the word of god itself, a miner from a different section descended and whispered into one's ear.

The second miner nodded before whispering it onward.

And like a chain, it traveled until everyone heard.

“Get a move on maggots!” The guard shouted even as he raised his whip, only for it to be stopped by a hand.

“What!? Who dare-” He whirled around to punch the slave who would dare to stop his hand.

Only to find a pickaxe suddenly embedded into his head.

The miner who had swung it, unceremoniously pulled it back out even as he leant down and picked up the guard’s keys.

“Today.” The Miner began to proclaim even as all around the mine many of the guards began to be killed in similar gruesome methods. “We are FREE!”

And a roar was heard all across the mines. A roar of pure and utter loathing even as all across Nuceria… a revolution began to happen.

Corvus: “ _ Finally _ .”

Pleasure slaves cut the throats of their sleeping masters.

Fulgrim: “Good.”

Cattle freed itself and burned down the homes of their owners.

Leman: “Revenge.”

In one measly hour. The entirety of Nuceria was burning.

**…**

“What’s happening!?” A guard demanded even as they descended into the pits of the arena, rushing to secure the gladiators.

“Slave revolt!” The head guard responded even as he fiddled with the keys and opened the gate leading deeper into the pits.

“What? How is that even possible?” An appalled, younger guard asked in shock.

“It’s happened before.” The older one explained. “But I don’t think it was ever this bad… or organized. We gotta lock them up in chains and make sure they are tranquelizeAH **HHH!”** His own scream cut him off as a shiv was plunged into his back and the group of guards turned to see a few gladiators standing there. No weapons other than a few shivs and their bare hands.

“Stand back!” A guard warned even as a sadistic grin graced all of the gladiators faces.

“Fine.” They spat and made way even as a pair of golden glowing irises emerged from the darkness, revealing Angron. Bloody and with a permanent monstrous face.

The guards didn’t even have time to scream.

Vulkan: “ _ Good _ .”

**…**

“Bast, how much of the ointment did you pack?”

“All of the red tags and green tags. I also made room for as many bandages as possible, but we may have to wear some under our clothes to fit in more medicine.”

“Good, I’m bringing as much of the antibiotics as we can carry. Antivirals as well, just in case. I’m trying to fit in the herbs, but I’m running out of room-”

“Give them to me, I can swap out the extra food supplies for them.”

They both paused as they heard an explosion deep into the city, the Apothecarium practically shaking from it. They looked at each other before they came to the same conclusion. Time was up.

“We need to go.” Bast broke the silence. She agreed, the two of them working hard to force their Apothecary bags to close. If the violence was this close to the inner city, then their window to escape was rapidly closing.

“The mountain path should still be clear. They will be waiting for us there.” Bast reaffirmed as they shouldered their bags and practically sprinted out of the back door, weaving through the city and desperately avoiding the guards that were running.

But there was one issue. All the guards were running in the same direction.

What could require that many?

Falaere pushed it out of her mind as they ran as fast as they could.

But only more and more guards were running in that direction.

Wait… that was the direction of the arena… Angron!

“Bast! It has to be Angron!” She said, voicing her thoughts aloud even as he groaned but turned and they ran practically with the guards.

They scurried through some alleyways before coming to the massive, open, market. It was the main slave market of Desh’ea.

And in the middle of it. Standing atop a pile of corpses. Was Angron.

He was waving around two massive axes. Slaughtering anyone and anything that attempted to get near. Anyone that shot something at him found it either ineffective or simply missing entirely.

All around him fought his friends. All with sadistic grins on their faces, displayed proudly as they slaughtered the guards as easily as if they were completely unarmed.

Oh… they had been waiting for this.

But well… in the light of the burning city behind him, the piles of corpses and being painted red by all of the blood of his slaughtered enemies, the shadow that fell behind him looked almost as if he had wings.

Wings… wings like an angel.

A  **Red** Angel.

Angron: “I  **fucking hate** that monicker.”  
Sanguinius: “Why? It is fitting. Especially after seeing this scene.”  
Angron: “Because I’m my own fucking man is why!”  
Sanguinius: *Points at screen* “Indeed you are. Red Angel.”  
Angron: *Grumbles seeing his point*

Maybe someone had heard her prayers after all…

Soon, the guards stopped coming and she and Bast took this chance to get closer to Angron. Falaere having to stop herself from shivering in fear from seeing how…  _ monstrous  _ he now looked.

But when he saw her, when he looked into her eyes... Despite being drenched in blood, despite killing all of those people, despite having the nails hammered into his head she knew. Falaere knew, from merely how he was looking at her he wouldn’t hurt a single hair on her head.

Then his head turned around to look at all of the gathered slaves. Gladiator, pleasure, cattle, everyone had come.

He grinned even as he raised one of his axes into the air.

“FREEDOM!” He bellowed even as his cry was echoed by all of the present slaves.

“Freedom!” They cried alongside him, their voices becoming one as they howled their allegiance to the Red Angel. “Freedom! Freedom!”

A cacophony of voices, all screaming to the heavens, primal sounds coming from deep in their souls, the need for freedom. All looking to Angron, who relished their camaraderie.

Then slowly… Angron pointed an axe for the rich district and let out an earth shattering rumble of a shout. “DEATH!”

Konrad: “Oh.. they shall.”  
Emperor: “SOON.”

...

“You filthy dogs!” A metallic, buzzing sound came out, as tiny machines came out, swarming near the rebels, but just out of reach. The Maggot’s Eyes. “You think you have won!?”

Each of the countless little eyes, the same ones that were used to watch the people, the arena from a safe distance away. Everyone had seen these damned machines before. Each of them were screeching death to the rebels, all of them belonging to some lord, or some other high rider. All of them were taunting the rebels, with the loudest voice at the front.

“What do you hope to accomplish!? A quicker death!? Do you really believe that you will last against us? Against our armies? Against our might!?” The robotic voice of Lord Thal’kr recognizable in the swarm as they looked down at the collected rebels. “You will never win against us, you’re just expediting the process.”

“Death! Death! Death!”

The slaves below were more than happy to show off how much they hated the High-Riders, glad to have an audience to show off their hatred towards.

Lord Thal’kr was already low on patience, where did these maggots get the idea of freedom from? He made sure that Angron wouldn’t be able to think- he had the nails, dammit! How did he get out!?

“My Lord!” A guard came running before quickly kneeling. “The mines! All the miners have revolted!”

The miners? What about the damn miner- oh. Oh no.  **Oh no.**

“My Lord-my lord!” Another guard ran in, this one injured and completely breathless. “The arena burns! It’s completely destroyed! The gladiators-” The guard gasped for breath. “-they all got out!”

Shit. Shit! “The Arena!?” No, no no! With all of the gladiators out, then the situation was far worse than he would have thought… He couldn’t do this alone.

Perturabo: “That’s what happens when you design your entire city around an arena and base your fucking culture on slavery.”  
Lorgar: “And strip them of any and all things to lose.”  
Mortarion: “Then push them to the brink of breaking.”  
Corvus: “And it only took a spark.”

Thinking quickly, the young Lord walked over to his father’s chambers. His father would not be happy about being awakened, especially because of a rebellion.

“Father.” He began as he opened the door. “Sorry to disturb-” He opened to door to see his father strung up like an effigy on his own bed. His guts on the floor and a pained look on his face even as the window behind the bed was smashed and in massive blood writing on the wall was written: “If we die, we die free.”

Horus: “Oh… so that’s what you meant…  _ good. _ ”

He was silent as he read the wall, then a nearly uncontrollable fury burned deep inside of him. Fine. If they wanted to die? They were going to die. He was going to make all of them rue the day they even thought of an uprising against him, against Nuceria. As the new Lord Thal’kr, as the highest lord amongst his peers, he would lead them all.

He would lead them all to slaughter the errant pigs who dared think of themselves as people.

“I will give them death.”

Emperor: “AND I TO YOU.”  
Angron: “Not if I get him first.”  
Emperor: “I’LL RACE YOU.”  
Angron: *Sad grin* “We’ll talk later old man…” *Goes completely morose* “...That’s it. That’s the end. We escape, we rebel for a while, but then… Then she dies…”  
Lorgar: “How did she die?”  
Angron: “Sickness. I wasn’t there, she passed while I was gone. She couldn’t move, was too pale, too heavy.  **It** killed her, sucked away all of her life and she had no time to rest.”  
Mortarion: “That isn’t how… I doubt the pregnancy itself would do it. The birth might have…”  
Angron: “All I know is that I left to fend off some of those bastards, then the next thing I know… I know… She’s gone. I didn’t want to look at her body, so I gathered up all of our forces and went on one final charge. I lost the only reason I had for living, and we had no more chances. We would go out in glory...”  
Emperor: “WELL, IF YOU WANT TO FINISH THE JOB, MIGHT AS WELL GO NOW. LOOKS LIKE THE VID IS OVER ANYWAY-”  
Lehm: “No, Omnissiah, there is more.”  
Angron: “No, there shouldn’t. She is dead.”  
Lehm: “Technology does not lie. There is more.”  
Angron: "The only thing I can think of that it could show is her dead body. Fucking- No, I do not want to see that!"

**...  
** **_Months later  
..._ **

“Where-where is he!?” Falaere cried out in their little hideout even as the battle raged outside. She looked close to death, from how pale she was, to the gauntness of her face and to how strained she looked in a cold sweat. Lying on her back, looking absolutely massive from her pregnancy, as if her body had gained a large tumor the size of a young child that was keeping her pinned to the ground. From the angle, it must have been some recording device on the ground, hidden from sight.

Angron: "F-Falaere?"  
Mortarion: "Yeah okay, now I can see why you would think she died of sickness. She looks like the pregnancy is sucking away her very life."  
Angron: "SHUT UP!"

“Gone Mistress!” Bast confessed even as he took a wet rag and patted Falere’s forehead with it. The baby had grown  _ incredibly _ quickly over the course of the rebellion and she had lost her water hours ago.

And that was when Angron disappeared. Not died, not murdered or fallen or back or anything. Disappeared.

A gladiator ran in, heavily bloodied and carrying the remnants of battle before looking her over. He looked both relieved and slightly horrified as he put everything together and what happened, “Oh, thank the fucking stars, you’re alive!”

She looked up at him along with Bast in shock. “What? No, I'm not dead!” She demanded even as another contraction took her by storm, wracking through her entire body and felt as if someone was stabbing her and twisting the knife throughout her entire body. But what was the worst, was how she could feel the mass of her baby squirming inside of her, every movement as if he was fighting against the friction of a dry bag against wet skin, pulling on the organ and sending sharp pains.

“We thought you dead! Angron got so angry he simply charged with what was left of us!”

Angron: “ **WHAT!? SHE WAS ALIVE WHEN I CHARGED!?”  
** Lorgar: “Oh…”  
Leman: “Shite…”  
Angron: “NO! No she was... She was... Her and the baby... I...” *breathing quickens*

Falaere felt her eyes widen. No. No. No-no-no-no! Why would he charge like that!? They had a plan! They just needed to get to the mountains, get somewhere safe, somewhere defensible and just- What was he thinking!?

“What happened to him?” Bast demanded beside her, quickly covering Falaere when a nearby wall was shot through and sent dust over them. She was already in a terribly delicate situation, no need to suffocate her too!

“We don’t know! He disappeared in a flash of literal light! Gone in the blink of an eye!”

Falaere’s breathing increased. This was not happening! Where did Angron go!? He promised her- He promised they were going to be free! That they were going to get away from everyone- he promised her! Did he leave? Or was he taken!? Please no, please... She can't run or escape, she can't go on without him! She doesn't know how to care for their child by herself... He promised her...

“What’s left of the High-Riders army is coming.” The gladiator warned. “We have to go. We can hide in the mountain village, they will never find us. With Angron gone not only do we not stand a chance, but they will also stop.”

Angron:  **“NO! I ran off on false information- I abandoned her! Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck”  
** Lorgar:  **"Angron calm down-"**

“I can’t!” Falaere cried out in desperation, maybe if they just wait, maybe he will come back!? “We are so close-”

“We have no more men!” The gladiator re-affirmed harshly, shirking back when she winced at his tone, before he rubs at his face, not trying to distress her even further. “They are all gone! It’s just us! Our troops are nearly depleted!”

It all went silent for a moment as Falaere said a silent prayer for the fallen, oh god... was this all for nothing? “Did-did they die well?”

The gladiator reluctantly nodded. “They will remember us for this. But we need to go!”

Falaere attempted to stand, only for another contraction to hit her, never in her life had she experienced such pain as this, and she was a punishment slave. Not to mention the severe weight of it all was keeping her on the ground, she could feel the weight of her son crushing her bones, making them creak in a threat of breaking. The baby wasn’t coming out, and she didn't know what to do!

She couldn't get up, she couldn't move, she wouldn't even be able to run! If the enemy was as close as they said... then... Oh god... She had to make a choice... If... If Angron is gone... She doesn't have a reason to live, except for their son... But if she can't move and they capture them... Her baby... her friends... She just knew what had to be done, accepting her fate if it meant her baby and her friends could go and be free.

“Bast!” She yelled up at her friend, hand in hand and squeezing his own with as much strength as she could, to convey the severity of her request. “You-you have to promise me!”

“What? Mistress?” Bast asked her confused, before his mind was connecting what she was going to ask of him. No, no no...

“Bast, I can’t move! I can’t move and he’s not coming out! Promise me! Promise me you’ll take care of him!”

Angron:  **“NO! NO NO NO!”**

“What!? What are you on about mistress-” He didn't want to hear her ask him the impossible, maybe he was wrong. Before he could beg further, a scream cut him off, the enemy was already close enough for melee range. If it was just the first wave and not the whole army, then maybe-

“Bast! I can’t move! He’s too large! My body can’t handle it, he’ll be there inside of me too long and he’ll- Ragio- Angron’s son! My son! He will die!” She held Bast's hand, looking up at her friend, hoping he wouldn't fight her on this. Her life was worth nothing, but her son... Her son deserved a chance!

“You’re not proposing-”

“Cut him out!”

“You’ll  **die!”**

Angron:  **“NO! NO! YOU DIED BEFORE I LEFT! THE CHILD DIED! IT'S NOT TRUE IT'S NOT TRUE” *shakes his head and denies the vision, hoping this was a joke, a horrible, fucking joke that was only trying to fuck him up further***

“We both will! Cut him out and save him!” She breathed as she grabbed onto his shirt. “Take him to the village… raise him… don’t let him be a slave. Please. Please, Bast.”

Outside, Bast could hear the raging battle outside, the sounds of an approaching army. Even if he took his time to make sure she survived, they would be found and killed. Or taken as slaves. Then everything would have been for nothing. But if he did it quickly and only saved the baby… Oh god, he didn’t want to do this… But when she looked at him like that, when she asked him to do the impossible, to knowingly kill her to save him… God…

“I promise.” Bast nodded, already planning out how to get this done as fast as possible. He looked to the gladiator beside him, “give me updates, I need time.”

“Gotcha.” The gladiator peeked out to ascertain the battle, and watch for the approaching army. “We got minutes, so do it!”

Bast pulled out his sharpest knife, glancing at Falaere one more time as she nodded, giving him a smile. “It’s okay, Bast. Please… I want my son to grow up free.”

Angron: *Stands and lunges for the holoprojector*  **“NO!”  
** Lorgar: “Brother! NO!” *Barely grabs onto him along with Leman and Horus*  
Leman: "Calm down ye mad fookin' lad!"  
Horus: "Brother, please! I know this is beyond distressing, but please calm down-"  
Angron: " **IT'S NOT TRUE IT'S NOT TRUE IT'S NOT TRUE IT'S NOT TRUE"**

Then he made the first cut, having to listen to the woman he loved cry out, hold back screams as he cut into her flesh. No time to dull the pain, no time to care about her safety, just cut, dig, cut, dig. Keep going, cut through the layers, cut open the uterus, don’t harm the baby. She made him promise, to take and raise her son. Save the kid... Save the kid, kill the woman he loved...

God, it was like looking into a nightmare! The boy was huge! He could see the outline of him inside of her, squirming as if trying to find a way out of her. No wonder she had been in so much pain all this time! How massive was he?! If he wasn’t so big, then maybe she would have had a normal pregnancy and then she could have run! But no! He had to be born like his fucking father in a blaze of damned glory! He had to be little more than a parasite sucking away the life of a woman who deserved to live in peace! Live free, but was dying on the floor of a battlefield!

No! No, it wasn’t the kid’s fault! It’s not his fault. God, he's blaming a child for something it didn't have a choice in! None of this was fucking right! Angron wasn't supposed to disappear! Falaere wasn't supposed to die! He wasn't supposed to be killing her! Just… Just cut it open, pull him out. Cut her open and pull Ragio out.

The final cuts and he was ripping her open, hearing the squalling of the baby, taking its first breaths while covered in gore. Ha… Just like his father. The sound of Falaere’s pain had become white noise, joining what was left of the noise of battle as he focused on pulling the boy out, cutting the cord and wiping away the fluids so he could breathe better. He was massive… Practically the size of a toddler of two, maybe three years old? Just as if not a bit heavier than a normal child. Of fucking course, he was just like his fucking father...

“Let me… let me…” Falaere gestured with weak arms as Bast reluctantly handed her Ragio, quickly covering her up. She wouldn’t live long, losing far too much blood she was shaking from it and the last pangs of pain as he was watching her life slipping away from her…

“My son…” She muttered before pressing her lips to the babe’s forehead. Ragio did not cry now, instead looking back at his mother with apparent awe, as if he knew who she was. She loved how much he looked like his father, with the same golden eyes, brown hair… She was happy to see he had her freckles, though. She lamented the fact that this was going to be the only time she was going to hold and see her boy. She wanted to live, to see him grow up, to tell him of his father, to wait for him to come back, to teach him everything she knew, to watch him grow up into a strong, kind, charismatic and free man.

“Ragio…” She whispered. “Your father would be so proud…”

Angron: “No… no… nooo…”

An explosion was heard nearby. “We need to go!” The Gladiator demanded.

Falaere immediately held out Ragio who Bast took as gently as he could, more determined than ever to uphold his vow. He wouldn't hold it against the boy, he would do everything he could to uphold his vow. He promised her that no matter where she went, he would follow.

“Bast…” Falaere murmured as he ran to the door and turned to look back at his friend.

“Don’t mourn me… for I died free…” She trailed off, breathing her last even as her head swayed to the side, a gentle smile on her face. Dead.

Angron: *Falls to his knees, eyes glued to the holoprojector* "F-Falaere..."

Bast held Ragio close to him, wrapping the boy in his mother’s cloak. He would protect him, he would let him grow up free…

He wouldn’t let her sacrifice be in vain.

And that was where the vid finally ended, on the vision of Falaere lying on the ground, alone and dead.

“Falaere…” Angron bit. Tears beginning to flow down his cheeks even as the nails bit so hard that his cry instantly turned into a pure roar of utter rage that shook the entire ship.

“Angron!” Lorgar stepped up once more, holding back an arm even as Horus and Leman grabbed onto him again, barely able to push him to the floor.

“ANGRON.” His father demanded of him, appearing in front of him. “YOU HAVE A SON.”

He wanted to kill them. He wanted to go back and kill every single Nucerian, every single High-Rider, their wives, their children, all of them. He wanted them to scream and beg and wish they never were born-

“Brother,” Lorgar spoke beside him. “Ragio! You have a son! Raised free! We can still rescue him.”

“WE ARE DOING MORE THAN THAT.”

Konrad now stood and loomed in the middle of the room. “I have knives to sharpen.” He said even as he walked out, Corvus not far behind.

Angron continued his thrashing, but the nails were slowly beginning to release their hold.

“WE SHALL MAKE THIS RIGHT. I HAVE ERRED. IT IS TIME I HAVE CORRECTED THIS MISTAKE.”

“Leman,” Magnus spoke even as he passed by his brother who was slowly releasing the hold he had on Angron.

“Aye, brother?”

“Just this once. Will you fight beside me?”

“Aye. Just this once.”

“I shall join you two.” Came a deceptively gentle voice as Sanguinius walked to join his two brothers. A vampiric look on the normally angelic face.

Angron slowly began to look into his father's eyes. And found himself… surprised?

Gone was the eternal calm glow projected in those brown irises. Forgotten was the aura of peace and calm that he had so irritatingly radiated. Vanished, had the normal sized man. What replaced it were gold glowing eyes. Filled with fury even as the Emperor’s very being radiated anger and fury and he had grown to the size of a Primarch.

“I DECLARE NUCERIA EXCOMMUNICATE DELICTUM.” The Emperor now reached down with a hand to his son. “I HAVE DONE MANY WRONGS WITH YOUR LIFE. HELP ME CORRECT THIS ONE, AS MY TRUE SON.”

Angron stared at the hand,  _ very _ tempted to simply spit on it even as Vulkan stood, hefting a massive thunder hammer and Jaghatai stalked off along with Mortarion.

The Lion also came by with Guilliman. Both looking over their wargear.

Then Angron decided. Falaere had believed in him, believed in him not hurting her. In raising a child…  _ their  _ child…

If it meant tolerating his father…

He reached out and grabbed the Emperor’s hand. Allowing himself to be pulled to his feet.

The Emperor then turned to all of his present sons.

“NOW… LET US BURN NUCERIA.”


	11. Meanwhile 1 - For Her

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amazing art made by Splitmind90 again

**...  
** **000.M31 -Above Ullanor  
** **...**

“Do you have… the three of thrones?”

“No. Go fish.”

“What?! Yer’ lying!” The Space Wolf accused the Thousand son, who simply regarded the Space wolf with barely a hint of annoyance, mostly boredom. The nearby Night Lord shook his head, wondering how it had come to this.

Ahriman slowly looked above his deck, staring into Bjorn’s soul.

“No. Go fish..”

Bjorn’s eyes narrowed. “Fuck you. Go fish.”

“What?” Ahriman asked, astonished.

“Fuck you. This is a stupid fucking game.” Bjorn ground out, throwing his massive deck of cards to the table even as he took a big gulp of his ale.

Ahriman sighed before turning to the Night Lord sitting with them. “Three of… jackals.”

Jago Sevatarion eyed him before muttering something and handing the sorcerer the card.

In the past weeks, the Astartes stationed in orbit had gotten so incredibly **bored** that most of the past legion tensions simply… got old. After the one-hundredth duel and the one-millionth discussion as to why sorcery was supposed to be bad/good. Practically everything got **_really_** dull.

So they had resulted to the oldest of time passing activities, passed down from millennia of human tradition.

Table games. And there weren’t many war games, those were taken within a blink of an eye, so most were stuck with the baseline’s games.

Ahriman once more focused on Sevatarions cards. “Five of Emperors?”

Sevatarion slowly let out a massive sigh even as he began tearing up the cards before throwing them at the big pile of the destroyed board and table games.

It had been a  _ long _ few weeks.

The one that had lasted the longest was the war game with all the miniatures that Ahriman had painstakingly painted.

That was until they had a battle of the Imperial Fists against the Iron Warriors.

Not only did it last  _ days _ but it had ended with both sides getting incredibly frustrated and destroying them all. Not to mention all of the called out rolls and lost opportunities due to said bad rolls. And those weren’t cheap.

Then they decided to go build a mountain together.

Simply to prove that YES you could build one and use it a fortification and YES one could still successfully siege it to death.

They had to lie to Sigismund that they went to build a signal tower. The first captain was too busy with political business to care anyway it seemed. Though practically everyone agreed- no one wanted to go to one of those parties, no matter how bored they were. They would rather sit and play cards until anything else happened. Or maybe they could requisition one of those consoles that were rumored to be on the Emperor’s own ship… He heard there were plenty of games to play on those...

“What’s next?” Bjorn asked from his seat, leaning so far back into it that if he was wearing his armour the chair would most likely simply fall apart.

“Oh, I wouldn’t know.” Ahriman began. “Since you two BROKE all the games!”

“Shit games anyway,” Sevatar spoke up even as snoring was heard from above them.

“Oi!” Bjorn yelled up. “If that’s a fukin Raven who snuck in again and fell asleep AGAIN! Yer better feck off before the wolves smell ya!”

“I don’t think they care anymore,” Sevatar spoke as he lit up an iho stick.

“How do yer know?” Bjorn butted in even as Sevatar blew out a puff of smoke.

“Because I don’t care anymore.” He leaned back, kicking his feet up on the table.

Ahriman let out a sigh. Everything truly had gone to the dogs. Even the LIBRARY had gotten boring. He didn’t think that was even possible! Who knew that he would miss conquering worlds… his Space Marine DNA he guessed. They were built for war, not garrison duty…

In fact, some had gotten lucky.

And by luck, he meant that they had gotten picked to go on some smaller crusades.

Of course, they had done it in a calm and orderly manner.

And by that, he meant in total. Fucking. Chaos.

Ahriman himself had gotten the order from his Primarch, Magnus. But he had been on the  _ Hrafnkel _ when the orders came through.

Oh… that had been a fight. It left most of the ship in absolute ruins when the Blood Claws had found out they had torn apart most of the damn ship when they found out none would be going.

And then the rumor that some people would be going on crusade spread fleet-wide…

_ Oh… that had NOT been fun… _

Twenty percent. Twenty. Percent. THAT was how many Astartes had been written up and punished from breaking conduct.

The punishments themselves had to be fairly light, even in the stricter legions. For one, they couldn’t hold a grudge against the greatest soldiers in the Imperium being disgruntled abut being glorified sentries and two, for obvious reasons, grounding twenty percent of the Legiones Astartes was NOT a good idea.

“What game’s next anyway?” Sevatar asked nonchalantly.

“There  _ is _ no  _ next _ game!” Ahriman said in a frustrated tone even as he groaned into his hands. “We went through  _ all _ of them…”

“And by that, yer mean we broke all of em’ right?” Bjorn asked, grinning.

“We could try that one game you told us about. That one about roleplaying and character sheets?” Sevatar offered, willing to try anything at this point.

“We agreed we can’t do that one because Bjorn over there can’t read.” Ahriman quickly shut it down. He wanted to play that one so badly, but no one was interested in this fracking wolf ship and the ones who did weren’t up to snuff.

“Oi!” Bjorn defended himself. “I can read!”

“Fenrisian runes don’t count!” Ahriman argued back.

“They do!” A deep, thundering voice disturbed their argument as every single Astartes looked over to the entrance into the entertainment room. Then they all stood in shock and surprise.

“Wolf King!” Bjorn stood and bowed respectfully even as he looked over to his Primarchs side to find…

“My lord?” Ahriman asked in surprise upon seeing the Crimson King who was shaking his head.

“Gear up lads.” Leman Russ commanded. “We’re going to go burn some slaving bastards.”

**...  
** **000.M31 - Ullanor  
** **...**

“Orders! Orders are in! Up you fools! Up!” Kharn demanded as he walked down the line of barracks down on Ullanor. It was 4am standard Terran time and for the first time in the last excruciating seven weeks, they had orders.

The World Eaters slowly started coming out, most still groggy from sleep. Some of them had gotten lazy over the increased length of Garrison duty that had suddenly been assigned to them after the triumph of Ullanor.

“Captain.” One asked, coming out and to a standstill. “What is happening? Are we going back to the front?”

“No.” Kharn ground out, as the nails, still relatively freshly hammered into his head, bit. “We are to gather on the parade ground, Emperor’s orders. Full regalia.” He ground out before moving on and not bothering to wait for a response.

All around the other barracks much the same was happening. Thousands upon thousands, multiple legions worth of Astartes were all roused from their slumber and told to prepare as if they would be going on parade and leaving the world.

Many had hoped that it would mean that they would be going back to the frontlines, or at the very least going back to their homeworlds. The adrenaline and honour from the triumph had long since worn off. Especially with the politicians beginning to make their way here. Not a single legionnaire had the patience to be around the tiny politicians.

The Ultramarines, in particular, were forced to attend more and more pointless political summits in the name of their Primarch as he went wherever it was that he disappeared along with most of the other Primarchs weeks ago. And if the Ultramarines were tired of the seven weeks of practically nothing, then most likely everyone else had it worse. Many lamented at not being the blessed few who were given orders earlier about a few days ago, but perhaps now their lament could turn to optimism.

Even most of the other legions had been pressed into emergency peacekeeping service to assure the politicians and people that the Primarchs and the Emperor were still there and still giving out orders every now and then, even though it was getting tedious at best. And at worst, it was the bane of the existence of many who contemplated jumping into an Ork infestation without their armour. Just to get the satisfaction of something attempting to actually kill them again.

In short. They were all bored to hell and back.

It was at this very moment that Nykona Sharrowkyn of the Raven Guard along with Sigismund of the Imperial Fists and Tarik Torgaddon of the newly renamed Sons of Horus were sipping on “cocktail” drinks of the party that they had been forced to attend. All dressed in their finest, read “standard issue” uniforms for such gatherings. And if the three could agree to something it was that all of them hated wearing these and would rather have worn their casual fatigues, or even better, their armour.

“I swear… if I have to attend  **ONE** more of these so-called parties, I am going to tear out my own throat.” Sigismund spoke, his normal calm having been…  _ compromised _ long ago.

“I tried sneaking out long ago,” Nykona added on, vaguely stirring the tiny drink. “But my Primarch wasn’t happy about that. Saying that it was  _ important _ .”

“You two and your dour faces,” Tarik added in as he finally looked up from his drink. As the three found out when they were together most of the politicians were too afraid to come by and ask a question. “You would make a lovely couple. I could even write a book. I’m thinking either a good old fashioned war story, but then again maybe challenge myself? Maybe a good romance would be better?” He jested before munching on some Hors d'oeuvres. At least the food was good, and he got to see the two of them get even sourer. He didn’t think it possible, but it happened.

“Honestly Tarik I’m in  _ no _ mood.” Sigismund spat back, downing the rest of the cocktail before taking another from the table. He would have said he lost count on how many he drank, but he could never lose count. He was on his 128th drink and was hoping his bladder would explode so he could have a valid excuse to get out of this  **hell party** . They had been here “mingling” for  _ six. Fucking. Hours… _ fucking politicians and their penchant for long-winded parties. He could have gone through so many fortifications or battle simulations and actually made a valid use of his time. In fact, over the course of this party alone, he had run exactly 235 combat simulations in his head as to how he would react to if the room had suddenly been breached and he would need to defend it. For a moment he thought that this must have been like what the Iron Warriors felt, being thrown into sieges all the time.

Nykona on the other hand simply grunted, he wouldn’t give Tarik the rise he wanted, so what was the point? He hoped he could have gone down the route of one of his brothers and scare any away from him by acting as owlish as possible, but when he saw how Sigismund was floundering, he had no choice but to keep the sour man company. He would deny to his final days that the company was welcome, but Nykona had a feeling it was. He had been in the process of recording poetry inside of his head, all of them dour and dark and brooding. Ranging from the standard sonnet to the numerous haiku, all of them about how dull and torturous it was to be around politicians and their infernal parties.

They were disturbed however as politicians practically ran by them. What could they possibly have to run for? Did someone have a new pair of boots to brag about and tell another hour-long story about?

Then another.

Then essentially all of the politicians.

“By the forest of Kiavahr… what  _ now?”  _ Nykona asked, slowly stalking over to the window to see… brothers? What? He saw the numerous colors of different legions, all of them excitedly making their way towards the parade ground. All ranging from the legions who had participated in taking this damned place, to the legions who arrived later on. With how all of them were armoured and ready for battle with full parade honours… Could it be? Could it  _ actually  _ be?

“What is it?” Sigismund asked, marching to him in his dark uniform, the two looking like a massive wall. He wasn’t excited about possibly getting out of there at all, just… curious.

“The legions. They are mobilizing!” Nykona spoke up with a happy tone, unlike his typical self. Finally! Finally, they were being saved! Oh, he just needed a reason to vault himself out of here, he’d take jumping from the window but doors would be fine too!

“What?” Sigismund asked back in surprise even as Tarik joined them, looking out of the window. He was slightly breathless as if his prayers had been answered and a golden benevolent god has come to deliver them from this cold hell of socialization!

“Ah… the snacks were getting just good too. Wonder what’s going on?” Tarik commented, popping another spinach puff into his mouth. He raised his eyebrows and nodded at the flavour, at least the food was always good at these things.

It was at that moment that a Space Marine of the Sons of Horus came running in full battle plate.

“Captain Torgaddon!” He shouted. “The Legion is being mobilized! We are to report to the parade field ASAP!” He then looked at the other two high ranking Astartes. “Same with you my lords.”

“On whose orders?” Sigismund asked, his pride getting the better of him.

“The Emperor’s own-!” The marine answered and not even a millisecond later, the three marines ran. They ran so fast that almost an afterimage of them was left behind. Nykona personally jumped clean off the massive table in the middle of the room while Tarik vaulted over it while still holding the tray of spinach puffs and Sigismund didn’t bother evading at all and barreled right through the middle of it. Sending priceless dinnerware flying as they all ran for what could be mistaken for their lives.

**...  
** **Later  
** **...**

The Sons of Horus, like most others, had gathered before the entrance to the triumph field of Ullanor. There, the Mournival awaited their Primarch, Abbadon was currently hoping that his Primarch had good news and the frontlines were calling upon them again. Sejanus was hoping for any type of news from his father, doing something would be welcomed. Meanwhile, Aximand was looking over Tarik -who in record time arrived there- and trying to hold back laughter while the latter stood there happily munching.

They didn’t have to wait long, as the aforementioned son of the Emperor appeared in full battle plate. Ready for war.

“Good.” He spoke as he looked over all of them in their gleaming green armour, polished and adorned with all parade honours. “Since we have all…” Horus trailed off, blinking a few times as he regarded his more free-spirited son, “Tarik, is that a tray of snacks you have with you?”

“Yes my lord,” Tarik spoke even as he popped another spinach puff into his mouth. “They’re really good.” He said looking out at his brothers even as Abbadon facepalmed and groaned while Little Horus Aximand tried not to chuckle and was failing horribly.

He continued chewing even as bemused stares were his only response and so Tarik slowly reached out with the plate of delicious snacks. “Anyone want one?”

Very slowly after what seemed like an eternity, a hand reached over and popped a spinach puff into its owner’s mouth.

“Holy shit, these  _ are  _ good.” First Captain Hastur Sejanus spoke even as Abbadon groaned deeper and Little Horus finally lost it, doubling over and laughing like hell.

Horus simply watched the exchange, and reached over and ate one himself. “Wow, these  **are** good…”

Little Horus now had to sit down and cry laughing in order to prevent himself from falling over even as Abbadon groaned so hard and pressed both of his armoured hands into his face that the others could swear they heard the cracking of bones. Tarik merely happily munched, tasting hints of bacon and three types of cheese, his Astartes physique refusing to identify them as anything other than nutrients.

“Hey Abby, brother.” He called out to Abbadon, who glared at him from behind his armoured hands. “Try one.”

“No.”

Tarik took one and started to move it where Abbadon’s mouth would be, shaking it slightly to entice him, “Come on. They’re really good! Even father likes them!” He poked Abbadon’s hands with the offending thing, hoping to get his attention.

Aximand could have died right then and there and he wouldn’t complain about it.

“Fine,” Abbadon said, snatching one and munching on it angrily before his eyebrows raised in surprise. “Shit. These are fucking good.”

“Told you.”

It was then that Lord Dorn came by, all of the present Captains bowing their heads in respect even as Aximand was barely able to collect himself to do so. Tarik was careful to not spill the tray he held, which now that he thought about it, was more like a dinner plater compared to his size.

“We have been assigned the same place during this gathering brother. Along with Perturabo.” Rogal spoke, coming by Horus’ side, his tone conveying the same amount of grim determination as earlier when they watched the vid.

“Indeed. And where is Perturabo?”

“On the other side of Ullanor. There was a building competition.”

“Really? What did you build?”

“A mountain.”

“Weren’t the mountains pulverized into dust by the Mechanicus?”

“Yes.”

Horus looked at him for a moment before merely shaking his head and idly throwing another spinach puff into his mouth before thinking quickly and taking the tray from Tarik’s hands and offering it to his brother. “Snack, brother?”

Rogal looked at the item, examining it with all due intensity before carefully reaching over and eating one. “These are… standard.”

“Really? I thought them delicious.” Horus was surprised, he had seen Rogal enjoy many foods during their time together, and he always did enjoy a well made, well-fortified meal… Well fine, more for him.

“I have had better food.” He spoke even as Horus smiled and put away the tray.

From afar the Sons of Horus and Imperial Fists looked on in absolute shock, sure they had seen their Primarchs be amiable to each other and share a smile or two, but they have never been so… casual before. Casual and comfortable.

Since when did the Primarchs all get along like this to drop the political facade!?

“There you are.” A darker tone spoke even as Corvus Corax emerged from the shadows. “Father has said that we are to be together during the gathering.” He paused before looking at the tray, “Oh! Spinach puffs!” He quickly swiped a few before Horus could move the tray. “Not as good as my own, but they’ll do.”

Tarik starred in absolute shock even as Sigismund, now in full armour, along with Nykona who were all looking at their Primarchs bantering in surprise.

The fuck had happened?

“Primarch Corvus…  _ bakes _ ?” Sigismund finally asked in surprise.

“He swears that it is a science, taught to him by the Emperor. He tells of how food was scarce on Deliverance and he enjoys spending time creating something.” Nykona shrugged his shoulder, his Corvus Pattern power armour helmet already on.

“Wait. I just realized.” Tarik spoke. “What mountain?”

Sigismund sighed. “My brothers got bored along with the Iron Warriors and simply wanted to build a lookout point for the augur arrays. If it meant tolerating the seven weeks of hell, they were willing to put aside their hatred to do something.”

“Lookout point?” Nykona asked, tilting his head in such a way that both the captains knew he was being sarcastic.

“It turned into a competition of who could build it taller.”

“So… you turned it into a mountain?”

“Well…” Sigismund began. “...both sides weren’t satisfied with how tall it was and it eventually devolved into who could make a natural mountain.”

“That is… a massive offshoot from a lookout point.” Tarik added in.

“You’re telling me,” Sigismund said, rubbing his eyes.

“Speaking of,” Tarik said, turning to the rest of the Mournival even as the Primarch continued talking. “Where are we going in the first place?”

“Nuceria,” Horus spoke, turning back to his sons, his tone now far more serious compared to before, causing all of the marines to instantly tense up.

Nuceria? What would they be doing on Nuceria?

“Father.” Sejanus stepped up. “For what reason are we going there?”

Horus appeared to think on the question for a moment before turning back to look at Corvus and Rogal, the gravity of the situation making them both silent. Then he turned back to the Mournival, “That is for the Emperor to tell you.”

The gathered Captains looked at each other with bemused expressions. What was so important that the Emperor  _ himself _ would address them?

Not long after, orders came down for them to walk out onto the field, followed by every single legion that had gathered there, the newly renamed Sons of Horus following the Mournival and their Primarch in wonder.

It was as massive and splendid as it was on the day of the triumph, even if the banners, cheering crowds and masses of holocams were missing. All that was left were the many marines who were now gathered here to replace all others in their full regalia.

The air was somber and far tenser than any who had been living through the seven weeks of unwanted vacation, which was preferable to the current mood on the grounds. By now most of the Astartes had found out or at least had an inkling of an idea of just what exactly they were being sent to do. War was in the air again, and many were tense with anticipation of finally being unleashed once more.

“Rank and file. Rank and file.” Tarik commanded gently through the vox as the Sons of Horus formed into full parade formation. They had gotten rusty from the weeks of laziness, despite the greatest triumph of the Imperium happening relatively recently. Soon enough, however, their muscle memory kicked in and the formations were formed. Perfect and exact to the last inch.

Then they had all lapsed into silence. Merely a muted click here and there being heard coming from their helmets or the barking commands of higher rank Astartes as they patrolled the formations, looking for any flaws. Many were silent, except for the muted clicks of traded vox chatter, most likely many were wondering what it was they were here for. There was a rumor already going around that someone or somewhere was declared Excommunicate, while others dismissed this idea.

It was still very early, only the barest glimmers of sunlight and heavy spotlights being relied upon for light.

Yet still, they were a marvelous sight. Close to a hundred thousand legionnaires formed up and ready for war. Their banners, standards, and honours in a proud display for all to see.

There would be more. But apparently, the Emperor had decided that only a detachment from each legions company would attend. Why this had been done, none knew.

That is, none but for the Primarchs. It was, in fact, two days after they had viewed that…  _ disgusting _ holovid about Nuceria and Angron’s failed rebellion.

And for two days. The greatest tacticians and generals to ever exist in mankind's history. Planned for a crusade.

The minds of almost two dozen demigod beings focused on One. Single. World.

And their plan, when it all came down to it, was simple.

Burn it all to the ground.

Of course, there were  _ far _ more technicalities then that to arrange for. Supply lines, legion control, legion mobilization, slave rescue, slave identification, courts, and penalty assignments. The Second Compliance under a new ruler.

No planet had ever before been under bigger scrutiny. And most of the Primarchs doubted that another ever would be again.

For the last two days, down to the tiniest worry was planned for and polished out.

Nothing would stand in the way of Angron’s revenge and the Emperor’s Justice.

And just as the sun began to dawn upon Ullanor, the grand balcony upon which the Primarchs stood at the triumph was taken to by the Emperor and Angron. Just having the two next to each other like this, especially with little malice was a sight to behold. Many thought that perhaps they had gone mad over the weeks.

Uniquely, all of the other Primarchs choose instead to stand with their legions at this moment.

“MY LEGIONS. MY PEOPLE.” The Emperor began to speak, his booming voice impossible to miss or not listen to even as all the Marines saluted at once. “TODAY, I COME BEFORE YOU WITH MY SON, ANGRON, PRIMARCH OF THE TWELFTH LEGION.”

There was a slathering of various voices and noises from the World Eaters contingent before they were quieted down by their officers.

“I COME TO YOU WITH THE BEARING OF ILL TIDINGS. I COME TO TELL YOU, THAT I HAVE ERRED.”

The Space Marines all suddenly murmured amongst each other, their normal calm broken by the surprise of the Emperor’s words. Since when did the Emperor make mistakes? Most of the World Eaters swelled with smug satisfaction but were unable to show it. There were many who blamed the old legion masters for what had happened with their Primarch, where some put the blame on the Emperor for not trying hard enough to convince Angron.

“I HAVE LET AN INJUSTICE FESTER IN MY IMPERIUM. ONE THAT I HAD HOPED WOULD CORRECT ITSELF. ONE THAT I HAD GIVEN A SECOND CHANCE TO.”

Ah, so the rumors of there being a traitor were actually correct. Oh, they couldn’t wait to hear who and what it was, then march to correct this injustice.

“WITH RECENT EVIDENCE HAVING COME TO LIGHT, I HAVE DISCOVERED THAT MY SON ANGRON… HAS BEEN WRONGED. WRONGED TO THE POINT OF WHERE SUCH A BLATANT DISREGARD OF THE IMPERIAL EDICT, THE LEX IMPERIALIS AND THE VERY CONSTITUTION OF THE IMPERIUM ITSELF STANDS FOR HIM.”

He never got tired of hearing that. Angron beginning to relish hearing those words come from the Emperor’s mouth. Sweet words that began to ease the strain upon his soul.

Meanwhile, amongst the marines, they began to wonder even more now. Who would dare to go not only against the Primarch but also against the very Imperium itself? To break the edicts and knowingly bring harm on themselves-?

“THESE CRIMES, THIS… HERESY. HAS BEEN COMMITTED BY THE NUCERIANS.”

The World Eaters had to physically lock their own armour in place, Nuceria was always a sore subject for the XIIth Legion. The day their father was brought back eighty-five years ago would always serve their minds a heaping of anger, disappointment, and regret. They had no idea what the other legions must have been thinking since they had no connection to Nuceria.

“BY A PEOPLE SO VILE AND CRUEL, SO BACKWARDS AND DISGUSTING, THAT THEY BRING SHAME TO THE IMPERIUM, TO EVEN MANKIND ITSELF.”

Angron, nearby his Father practically shook from his own anger and resentment of the Nucerians. He could not help but imagine everything he would do to them when he went back. Not just for him, but what they did to  **her** .

“FOR UPON MY SON AND THEIR OWN PEOPLE. THEY HAVE WROUGHT SLAVERY. UNDUE TORTURE. DESPICABLE AND HEINOUS ACTS OF PERVERSION AND THE DEFILEMENT OF EVEN A PRIMARCH!” The Emperor gestured to the nails, hammered into Angron’s hand, his face turning remorseful even as Angron sneered at the reminder.

“NOW, I COME BEFORE YOU TO ASK YOU, TO STAND WITH ME AND FIX THIS INJUSTICE. TO COME AND FREE NUCERIA FROM ITS OWN PATHETIC GRASP. TO RIGHT A WRONG LONG OVERDUE. TO TEACH AN ERRANT PEOPLE WHAT HAPPENS WHEN ONE STANDS IN THE WAY OF MANKIND'S DESTINY.”

They knew what had to be done. They all felt it deep within their bodies, minds, and souls, what they had to do. If it was to right an extreme wrong, then all he had to do was ask.

“I ASK YOU. ONE LAST TIME, MY LEGIONS THAT HAVE STOOD WITH ME SINCE TERRA ITSELF. WILL YOU FIGHT? WILL YOU BURN THAT WRETCHED PLANET TO THE GROUND EVEN AS YOU FREE ITS PEOPLE AND BRING JUSTICE AND PENANCE UPON THE UNWORTHY!?”

The roar coming from the collected army of marines spoke what they felt about the Emperor’s request. They roared in hatred, roared in agreement and roared with vengeance deeply seeded in their minds. The traitors would be given no quarter, no mercy! So they would howl for vengeance, for the Primarch, and the Emperor.

They would burn Nuceria to the ground, and beyond.

It was at that moment that Angron himself stepped up, one foot on top of the balcony and gorefather held in hand.

“ **DEATH!”** He commanded even as the Astartes were turned and began to march in as orderly fashion as they could bring themselves to towards the transports the sun at their backs.

There would be no dawn, for the slavers.

**...  
** **000.M31 - Nuceria  
** **...**

As was like every other day, Lord Thal’kr awoke alone in his bed, awakening in the middle of the early hours, the sun of Nuceria not even up yet for another five or six hours.

He slowly yawned and stretched out his arms, enjoying the warm comforts of the satin sheets on his massive bed. For just a second, he leaned back and enjoyed every bit of it, every fiber as it caressed his newly rejuvenated body. Being a part of the Imperium had its advantages, ones that he was more than happy to exploit as a Planetary Governor.

Happy to have control over the entire planet happy to live longer than his father. He was pleased that he accomplished so much in his life. This was his reward for wrestling away all the power he could from all of his past peers, leaving him as the sole ruler of Nuceria. The lifelong dream of the Thal’kr family fulfilled, all of Nuceria was theirs.

Was  **_his_ ** .

Well, half of the work was to gain his ambition, the other half was to care for it and make sure it never left his grasp. So work called to him.

He snapped his fingers, sitting up and donning a robe. His personal pleasure and cattle slaves had come in to assist him in his day. He had budgets to approve, slaves to care for, a market to keep tending to, an economy that was just barely able to recover from that unfortunate business eighty-five years ago.

Beautiful blonde pleasure slaves, his personal cattle slaves, everyone he wanted and needed before him. He was so glad to read about how Planetary Governors were able to run their planets however they wished, as long as they paid their tithes and followed Imperial Law. So by their definition, they didn’t say he couldn’t continue to have life on Nuceria be the same as it always was.

“Read me my agenda for the day. Might as well get an early start.” Lord Thal’kr spoke, his pleasure slaves holding his slippers as they awaited their orders from him. He did so much love looking at them, beautiful blonde, beautiful blue eyes, peach skin… But no freckles. Almost perfect. Maybe if he were to dig into their skin, they would? Why did that combination have to be so elusive to him!?

He wanted his Sleeve back so badly. But she was dead, long dead and there was little he could do. He wanted his perfect little Sleeve back, his perfect slave. He saw the brands on her, he saw that she lived as she escaped Desh’ea eighty-five years ago and he hunted her down relentlessly. But she was dead when he finally had his hands on her again, and the body was gone by the time Imperial Technology arrived and he knew about servitors.

What would it have been like, to have her come back to him forever? He couldn’t answer that question, so he let it go. All he could do now was try and recreate her, make her come back with his own power. Make her perfect.

But none of them were perfect… No matter how hard he tried and how many times he sent them to the sculptors… He wanted her back, she was his. His and his alone. Not some mangy gladiator, not to some healer, she was his. No one took his property.

He tried to find the child she had apparently given birth to, to exact his revenge on it. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t find it. The boy or girl, nowhere was it found. Oh well, eighty-five years did a lot on the human body, they most likely were dead at this point anyway.

Throughout Lord Thal’kr’s day, it was the usual. Market statements, economic growth reports, the status of their tithe growth, slaves, and so on. But what made it different was when he heard from one of his cattle slaves who brought him news.

News that Nuceria was surrounded by the Imperial Army.

He was confused for a second, wondering why in the hell the Imperial Army was surrounding his planet. Perhaps if he were to contact them, they would give an answer. Waving a hand to a cattle slave, the built-in hololithic display in the grand dining table of his estate opened up, attempting to connect with any of the ships outside-

And then it went red, with only two words coming through as his access was cut off, repeating the two words over and over again with a Golden Aquilla in the background:

**EXCOMMUNICATE DELICTUM**

Delictum? Crime? He thought about what it could possibly be about, but couldn’t come up with anything! Not recent… For a single terrifying moment, his mind conjured up the sight of eighty-five years ago, the slave revolt of Angron, the day Nuceria burned and the streets flowed red with Nucerian blood.

Was this it? Was this them coming back to finish the job? After he found out that Angron was supposedly the son of the Emperor, he thought that would have been the end for Nuceria that day. But nothing happened, so it faded from memory. Then he shook his head, no. No, it was eighty-five years ago. Why would they come now to react to the incident? That didn’t make sense. No, it must have been something else.

Nearby, his slaves watched the display, watching how their Governor, their Lord, was worried. They knew that red and those words must mean something bad. Would he have been so stupid as to go against the Imperium? What did he do? Were they going to die? Was this the end? Would Nuceria burn again?

He thought back to everything that happened after that incident, going over his every decision. Were they here for the other lords? No, they were dead and useless, he made sure of that! Were they here for their technology? No, they gave it to their cult long ago, all of it! What did he do? He knew they had a reduced tithe due to the reconstruction and had appealed for an extension for the reduced tithe, the planet was just now showing signs of fully reconstructing after the revolt. What did he do?

And why did he feel so terrified?

**...  
** **000.M31 - Above Nuceria  
** **...**

As the massive crusading fleet of eighteen mixed legions was spat out of the warp and back into the materium, eighteen Glorianas all at once expunged Stormbirds that made their way for the  _ Bucephalus _ .

There, onboard the personal golden Battle-Barge of the Emperor, the Primarchs along with their Captains gathered for one final overview in the  _ Bucephalus’ _ grand war room. Slowly the Primarchs trickled in, armoured and armed with the full extent of their wargear.

The Emperor greeted each of his sons individually even as their respective Captains stood by their Primarch’s side. Many of said Captains were struggling with being surrounded by so many Primarchs and of course, the Emperor himself.

To a Space Marine, being near his gene-sire of a Primarch was like being near something you would defend with your life. Something you loved in such an undying way that there were no words for. Because no words could fit, their very genes were encoded in such a way that emotion was all they could use to comprehend that bond.

While being near one of a different legion had by no means the same potency. But, to say that the connection was weak wouldn’t be doing it true justice either. After serving by some of their Primarchs’ sides for decades, some near or even over a century, many had forgotten that their gene-fathers were in fact, demigods.

Standing here, amongst all eighteen of them and their own father, the Emperor himself had quickly reminded them of that.

Many had wondered what could attract such a terrible focus? Could draw such hate that it would take all of them, even after hearing the speech from the Emperor himself, they still wondered.

But oh… they had found out.

Each of the Primarchs took a seat on an elevated semi-circle around a massive hololithic projection now showing Nuceria even as their respective Captains took smaller seats surrounding their selective Primarch.

“GOOD, WE ARE GATHERED,” The Emperor began to speak even as he stood next to the hololith. His golden, auromite armour gleaming even after the lights were dimmed so that the hololith would shine brighter. “ROBOUTE.” The Emperor nodded towards the Ultramarine Primarch, who stood and took to the floor.

“Father, brothers, Captains.” He greeted before beginning his explanation. “Tallying up all Space Marine elements, we are at the strength of roughly 82.000 Astartes.” He began even as their massive fleet flashed in green above the planet. “The orbital blockade is complete and I have it on my First Captains authority, that we have complete orbital superiority.” He turned to all of them. “We are ready to deploy upon the preset locations as discussed…” He turned to the hololith before pointing at separate locations. “Here, here and here.” The locations flashed in red on the planet. “Insertions on these locations are of course only the primary sphere of entry. The rest is down to the individual legions that were assigned to operate together.”

He cleared his throat even as multiple insertion points blinked on the planet.

“As agreed to, heavily armoured units such as Fellblades and heavier tanks along with Titan support are deemed unnecessary as the Nucerians only have conventional weapons and troops.” He then gestured again even as icons with the Apothecarion symbol appeared. “Naturally, we are to avoid any and all possible innocent deaths as I do not need to remind anyone here, this is a Compliance action of salvation. Not a slaughter.” The ruler of Macragge allowed his eyes to wander, focusing specifically on the World Eaters, Death Guard, and Iron Warrior’s contingents. “It will require precision. And relief for the enslaved populace.”

He motioned over to Corvus, who stood and came to the floor. “The Raven Guard shall secure points of exit, infiltrate and prevent the High-Riders from effectively deploying their armed forces along with stopping them from taking their own lives or preventing the compliance in any other way along with identifying the slaves via their brands and sending them to the appropriate field Apothecariums for treatment and later reassignment.” Corvus slowly looked over his brothers even as he gestured towards Rogal and Perturabo. “As agreed upon, both Lord Dorn and Lord Perturabo will stay in orbit along with Lord Guilliman and make sure the supply intake and outtake of slaves will continue to flow smoothly even as they build the infrastructure.”

“NOW ONTO THE DETAILS.” The Emperor spoke up as he came around the hololith and both brothers took their seats again. “THE MAIN INSERTION POINT SHALL BE TAKEN BY ANGRON, LORGAR AND MYSELF. WE ARE TO TAKE THE SECRET REBEL MOUNTAINTOP VILLAGE BEFORE ADVANCING ON DESH’EA ITSELF.” He looked over to the two brothers who were sitting close by, the former seething quietly in his throne even as he attempted to prevent the nails from activating and the latter looking forwards with calm determination. “THE SECOND BELONGS TO THE WARMASTER, WHO HAS ACTING COMMAND IN THE AREA, ALONG WITH LORD LION’EL JONSON AND LORD MORTARION, WHO ARE TO TAKE THE WESTERN, MORE DENSELY POPULATED HEMISPHERE.” The three didn’t make a sound, agreeing to work together had been an opportunity they hadn’t had often and they intended to make the best of it, even if it would inevitably turn into a competition.

“THE LAST FALLS TO EVERYONE ELSE. THAT IS TO SAY LORDS CURZE AND CORAX SHALL TAKE TO THE TOWN’S AND CITIES VIA QUICK DEPLOYMENT WHILE LORD JAGHATAI SECURES THE MASSIVE STRETCHING STEPPES OF THE WORLD.” The three grunted in pleasure, happy to be killing for the good of it. “ALL THE WHILE LORD’S FULGRIM, MANUS, VULKAN, AND MAGNUS TAKE THE SUPPORTING ROLE AND SWEEP DOWN TO THE EASTERN CITIES.”

“AS FOR THE EVACUATION, THE PROTECTION FORCE SHALL BE PROVIDED BY LORDS RUSS AND SANGUINIUS. WHO SHALL PROTECT THE TRAIN OF LEAVING SLAVES AND THE MULTIPLE FIELD HOSPITALS. SHOULD ANY RESISTANCE BE MET, THEY ARE GIVEN FULL RIGHTS TO RETALIATE.” The two mentioned Primarchs bowed their heads in quiet respect, the former grinning while doing so.

The Emperor looked over them all. “AS FOR LORDS ALPHARIUS AND OMEGON.” He smirked as he looked at the twins. “CRY CHAOS.” The twins merely smiled back, looking identical as they nodded in response. “THEN REPORT BACK TO ME AFTER YOU FIND IT.”

The family had tried multiple times to have their father disclose what he was talking about. But of course, he didn’t give. Typical.

“IF THAT IS ALL.” The Emperor looked around. “THEN WE MOVE IMMEDIATELY. TO YOUR POSITIONS.”

With that, they all stood and left the room. Only Angron and Lorgar staying and following the Emperor to their own personal hangers and the golden Stormbirds which would take them down to the planet’s surface.

Angron wanted nothing more than to just drop down and set himself loose on the damn planet. He wanted them all dead and allow him the chance to just take all of his hate out on the planet that broke him. But they had to be ‘smart’ about it and they ‘couldn’t kill everyone’. So all the planning…

The sooner they started, the sooner he would feel better about all of this.

**...  
** **000.M31 - Nuceria  
** **...**

A violent knocking upon his door awoke him as he forced his massive body out of his bed with a groan. He passed by countless furniture pieces that he attempted to make to carry his weight, but usually ended up flat on the ground.

What the!? It was midnight!? Wait! Did someone get hurt!? Did the damned farm hands get drunk and hurt themselves  _ again?! _

Another knock, this one far too violent to even sound human, from his spot he could see the wooden door buckle under the hit. “Ugh… coming!” He called out as he hastily got dressed, turned on the lights, and moved to the door. Quickly unbarring and unlocking his front door. Usually, he would deliver service with a smile, but when it came to them knocking on his door at midnight there would be no pleasantries.

“Alright. What did you bunch of dumb-” He prepared to lecture only to freeze in complete and utter shock.

Before him was a man- Ney, a  **warrior** in very heavy armour. As big as him- No one was as big as him! What in the nine Nucerian hells was going on!?

“Um. Who are you?” He asked even as he carefully reached for the knife he kept by the door, was supposed to be a short sword but was more like a knife to him. If these were the Governor’s men he would need to bug out immediately. The plan for such an occasion already fully formed in his head.

“You are Ragio?” The armoured ‘man’ asked in an extremely deep, baritone voice. It obviously being augmented electronically. If augmented, he would need to really push himself if he was going to survive against someone like this… Armoured and weaponed, he would be at a severe disadvantage...

“No.” He lied smoothly, now taking the knife and hiding it behind his back.

“Don’t lie to me boy. I don’t have the patience for it.” The man rebuked even as he turned. “Found him!” He yelled out, turning back only to find that Ragio had moved in the blink of an eye, the knife now held to the Marine’s throat.

“Don’t fucking move!” Ragio screamed even as he grabbed the Marine, handling him with ease even with the Marine being fully armoured.

“What the-” The Marine struggled. “You’re misunderstanding boy! Let me go!”

“I’m not misunderstanding shit! Your Lord Thal’kr’s man!” He attempted to push the knife deeper, but the armour prevented it. “Come to finally take me.” He ground out, golden eyes going nearly red with his rage. “I’m not going to be taken, you fucking hear me!?”

Nearby, from afar, the Emperor spied the situation going on at the slightly oversized cottage that one of the World Eater’s Sergeant was at. He knew it. He fucking knew it. “OH FOR- WHERE IS ANGRON!?” The Emperor demanded, already knowing that one part of the plan was already a disaster.

Lorgar came to his side, “Other side of the village. I was barely able to control him, the nails are biting harder than usual.”

Before the Emperor could ask, he took another look at Ragio and the scene before them. He nodded a couple of times, “YEAH. DEFINITELY LOOKS LIKE ANGRON.”

“Yeah, no kidding. It’s like looking at a younger version of him. Though I do see some of his mother in him.”

“YOU MEAN THE PART WHERE THE MARINE ISN’T ALREADY DEAD?”

“Yeah.”

“WELL. GO GET ANGRON AND TELL HIM WE FOUND HIS SON. I’LL CALM THIS DOWN.”

“Right away old man.” Lorgar nodded before running off to attempt to fetch his brother even as more Marine surrounded Ragio, now pointing their bolters at him and attempting to make him drop the knife. Ragio for his part appeared to be getting more and more determined.

“OH, THAT’S JUST GREAT. LOOK, RAGIO. WE AREN’T HERE TO HURT YOU.”

Ragio looked towards the source of the voice and looked at the massive golden armoured man up and down, desperately trying not to fall under the sheer awe that he radiated. The Emperor’s words proved impossible to ignore, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t argue back. “And why should I believe you?” He asked who was obviously the commander of these warriors.

“BECAUSE RAGIO, I’M YOUR GRANDFATHER.”

Ragio laughed out loud, still holding on the marine and trying his hardest to break through his armour. “You!? Well, nice to meet you! Now fuck off and don’t come back!”

“KIND OF TOUGH BOY. WE ARE TAKING OVER THE PLANET.”

Ragio groaned. “Stop calling me a boy! I’m over 85 years old!”

The Marine that he held onto laughed at him. “And I’m 122! Join the club kid!”

“AND YOU’RE PRACTICALLY A SPERM COMPARED TO ME IN TERMS OF AGE. PUT DOWN THE KNIFE, YOU CAN’T KILL THE MARINE WITH IT ANYWAY.”

Who the fuck did this asshole think he was? Ragio let out a long-suffering grumble as he threw the marine away from him, crossed his arms over his chest and stood his ground at the man who called himself his ‘Grandfather’. “So. What the fuck are you doing here?”

“WELL, FIRST OF ALL… WAIT FOR IT.” The Emperor held out a hand and made a motion of listening for something even as a Golden Armoured warrior came to his side, beings even more massive than the ‘Marines’!

“My Emperor-” He began to speak only to be waved down by- The Emperor? Wait!  **The** Emperor!? Wait wait wait… no fucking way. His mind was making connections that he wasn’t happy to be making.

“What are we-” Another golden armoured warrior asked even as an explosion was heard. And then another. And then another. And then a bigger one.

“AND THAT WOULD BE CORVUS, KONRAD AND JAGHATAI COMING DOWN.” He turned to Ragio again and clarified. “YOUR UNCLES.”

Ragio grit his teeth, barely stopping a growl as he regarded this. “So. You wake me up in the middle of the night, proclaim yourself to be my Grandfather, and now I hear battle being done by whoever you just said? What-?”

“NOT EXACTLY FOR JUST THAT. AND I DIDN’T SAY TO STOP LISTENING.”

And sure as that, soon enough, some  _ very _ loud yelling was heard in the distance. “HE’S FUCKING DEAD!” An  _ extremely _ angry voice was heard shouting.

“No! He’s not brother! You saw in the vid!” A much calmer, more charismatic voice was heard next, apparently calming down the angry voice’s source.

Ragio blinked, a single hand coming out to gesture around them as if he was trying to convey the feeling of ‘fucking really?’ with a small shake of his head.

Soon enough, off in the distance, two  _ massive _ men were seen heading in their direction even as the Emperor began to speak again. “WELL GRANDSON. MAY I HAVE THE PRIVILEGE OF INTRODUCING YOU TO YOUR FATHER.”

Wait… no. No, he couldn’t mean. He was dead. There was  _ no fucking way in _ -

Then the two giants came closer and he saw him, truly saw him. The face, the nails, the armour, the way he acted… it was-

“ANGRON.” The Emperor called out, catching the Red Angel’s gaze. “LOOK.” He then pointed towards Ragio, one of whose eyes began twitching erratically.

And then, Father and Son’s eyes met.

For the first time in nearly a century, Angron felt all of the anger leave him. All the hate, fury and pain merely bleeding away. The bite of the nails slowly becoming duller and duller, replaced with a sense of calm. He could feel the tension in his body unwind, shoulders sagging down and hands falling towards the ground with a final angered breath escaping through his nose.

He stood there, almost gaping like a fish as he looked into eyes that he thought lost all those years ago.

They were  _ her _ eyes. Not the same colour, but the shape and the small crinklings at the end from all of the smiles.

They stood like that for a minute. The others surrounding them slowly relaxing more and more. Perhaps this wasn’t going to be so bad, maybe then they would finally have a Primarch they could actually work with.

The Emperor nodded at a job well done. If this was like anything he planned for it to go then this was one massive check on the to-do list.

“Son…” Angron slowly spoke, the voice completely losing its usual rough and angry tone. Being replaced by one of wonder and sadness, closer to how he used to speak before the nails.

Ragio however, didn’t respond. Merely standing and shaking in place even as he clenched his fists tighter and  _ tighter _ . Until even the blood flow to his fingers was cut off. Everything he thought in this moment began to swirl together into one giant pot of anger. He thought of all his eighty-five years being raised here, his mother dead and apparently his  **_father_ ** leaving them for  **_dead_ ** , being raised by a kind man who made sure he was safe, loved and- now he thought of how long he had been alone, how long he lived on this planet and yes it wasn’t perfect, but it was still his planet! How he now had his  **_father_ ** returning and apparently his grandfather and what!? What did they expect!?

Everyone present. From the marines to the Emperor himself had not felt fear, but something akin to it in a  _ very _ long time.

But when Ragio took off with a roar that shook the very ground. That made him look every single bit like his enraged father in the middle of one of his blood rages.

Lorgar, the Marine, the Custodes, and the Emperor all dodged out of the way as he slammed headfirst into Angron's face, quickly taking the opportunity to attack him with his own bare fists, screaming obscenities at him incoherently.

“AW SHIT.” The Emperor quickly turned to Lorgar. “LORGAR. MIND DOING SOMETHING!?”

“Well uh, like what!?” Lorgar asked in surprise, looking as Ragio attempted to demolish Angron’s face but was failing miserably due to his father's superior physique and of course, armour. Angron for his part appeared to not be hitting back, only dodging.

“BREAK THEM UP?” The Emperor suggested. “ANGRON LISTENS TO YOU FAR MORE THAN ME AT THIS POINT.”

Lorgar rubbed at his face, not believing that he was going to have to break up  **two** Angrons now! He quickly stepped up, attempting to pacify Ragio, “Ragio, listen I know this is extremely hard to deal with and I understand you have a lot of anger towards this-”

“ **_Shut the fuck up you inked up pansy I’m trying to kill this fucking asshole who left my mother for dead!_ ** ” Was all that came out from Ragio’s mouth as his attacks became more intense. Little did he know, those words would bite him in the ass.

“I DIDN’T FUCKING  **LEAVE HER!”** Came an earth-shaking roar from Ragio’s father as he finally punched back and launched himself at his son. “I THOUGHT HER DEAD! I THOUGHT YOU DEAD!”

The two became a rolling mass of angry shouting, twisting limbs to attack each other as they attempted to subdue each other. “ **_Oh really!? Well sure fucking looked like it you shit head! She’s fucking dead because of you and I had to grow up on this fucking mountain being hunted by that asshole! This is all your fucking fault you ghosting shit!_ ** ”

“Well fuck.” Lorgar whispered, stepping back, even the Emperor now understanding that breaking them up was almost impossible.

“YOU HAD A BETTER LIFE THAN ME YOU UNGRATEFUL BASTARD! HOW  **DARE** YOU TALK ABOUT YOUR MOTHER LIKE THAT!? HOW FUCKING  **DARE** YOU!?” Angron shouted at his blood bore son even as the two tackled each other, each punching at each others face, Angron severely pulling his while Ragio did no such thing.

“Oh! A better life!? A  **_better_ ** life!? Sure was fucking amazing to have most of my life being running away from fucking everyone because Thal’kr wanted me alive! All because you disappeared and fucked everything up for everyone!” He attempted to choke the much bigger man, his rage clouding his judgement as they both wanted to kill each other but something keeping them from going for the kill. “I can talk about my mother all I want! Not like you did anything to come back and save her! You left her behind you fucking High-Riding piece of shit!”

“WELL FUCK- LORGAR, WE NEED TO GET IN THERE BEFORE-”

“ **HIGH-RIDER!?** **_HIGH-RIDER!?_ ** ” The nails now fully activated, causing Angron to pick up Ragio and throw him all the way across the village, flying clear through a barn and luckily landing in a hay pile.

Oh fuck, he was going to feel that… He sat up from the hay pile, most of it flying through the air and scattering around the ground. Now that he was sitting here, he realized that maybe… Just maybe… Pissing off a legendary gladiator of Desh’ea wasn’t the best move. But to be fair, this was the same fucker who abandoned him, so maybe he could finish what he started.

He got up with a groan, feeling how painful it was to breathe. Oh great, he bruised his ribs. Fucking great!

He quickly made his way out of the barn, seeing his father now being held down by multiple of the golden armoured warriors and who he believed was called Lorgar who appeared to be desperately trying to calm him down.

This was his chance. Picking up anything sharp that he could, he lunged after him again, intent on just finishing up this business.

Only to freeze mid-air.

“The fuck!?”

“NOT SO FAST YOUNG MAN.” His grandfather lectured. “THERE HAS BEEN QUITE ENOUGH OF THAT.”

Struggling against this hold, Ragio couldn’t move anything, but that didn’t stop his sheer force of will to fight back. “What… What are… you… doing…?”

“PSYCHIC POWERS.” The Emperor explained even as he looked in between father and son. “NOW, I UNDERSTAND THIS HASN’T BEEN THE EASIEST DAYS OF YOUR LIVES AND THAT THERE IS QUITE CLEARLY TENSION AND A LOT OF UNRESOLVED ISSUES. WE HAVE A PLANET TO RE-TAKE.”

Ragio just snorted through his nose, glaring at the Emperor. “You’re retaking the whole planet? Gonna kill Thal’kr?”

“Fuck yeah we are.” His father groaned from being held back. “About fucking time!”

He had a lot to scream at him, but… Well… There seemed to be more important matters at hand. But he had one big question to ask them before anything else… “Why… the fuck… are you here… now? Why not… All that time… ago?”

“It’s a very long story.” Lorgar butted in. “One we will explain later, suffice to say for now, this is  _ long _ overdue.”

The Emperor then put him down before coming to him and putting a massive hand on his shoulder. Both to convey his emotions and to hold him in case he decides to run and attempt to kill Angron again. Ragio was feeling shock as he was forced to realize the massive extent of his grandfather’s power. “YOU ARE WELCOME TO JOIN US.”

Well… Might as well be useful. “If you’re doing this, then a lot of people are gonna need help. I’m a healer, so I help people. Just keep me far, far,  **far** , away from him.” Ragio enunciated this by glaring at Angron.

“FINE WITH ME. YOU TWO CAN PATCH THINGS UP LATER.” The Emperor turned to a Golden armoured man. “CONSTANTINE. VOX SANGUINIUS AND LEMAN AND TELL THEM TO SEND A TRANSPORT FOR RAGIO.”

“Right away my lord.” Constantine nodded before donning his helmet.

Good. He would be able to help people. Cause from he sees now, these guys look like they waged war constantly and without much if any remorse. “So what the hell are most of you, exactly? I’m severely out of the loop, I realize.”

“I AM THE EMPEROR.”

“Yeah, figured, Emperor of what? A planet or something?”

“THE IMPERIUM.”

Ragio blinked, “I know… Almost nothing about that. Kinda spent most of my life avoiding anything that connects to… anywhere.”

“The Imperium currently encompasses millions of planets.” Lorgar stepped in, taking pity on the boy. “And the Emperor here, is Angron’s father. And mine as well. He made us, the Primarchs, in a laboratory to serve as generals for his retaking of the stars.”

He took a second or two to go back to his thought before all of this and him trying to kill Angron. Emperor, father, child, him… Holy shit. “Holy shit. Wait, hold on, I’m a fucking Imperial Prince and I have been living on a backwater planet while the Planetary Governor has been trying to capture me for all my life and now suddenly you’re here!?”

“WELL WE ONLY FOUND OUT ABOUT YOU A WEEK OR SO AGO SO YES. SORRY ABOUT THAT BY THE WAY. AS ANGRON EXPLAINED. WE ALL THOUGHT YOU DEAD.”

“WHY WOULD I BE DEAD!? AND IF WHAT PEOPLE SAY IS TRUE, THEN WHY DID YOU GUYS LEAVE AFTER HE LEFT!? WHY DID YOU ALLOW THESE MONSTERS TO KEEP CONTROL OVER US!? DID NONE OF YOU HAVE THE FORESIGHT TO SEE THIS WOULD GO HORRIBLY WRONG!?” He could fucking believe any of this, holy fucking shit...

“Ragio. I do not typically back father, and while this was a mistake please keep in mind the Imperium is so incredibly massive that you are a drop in the ocean in the issues that it may have, hence why we are here now fixing things.”

He rubbed a hand on his face, groaning at this blatant stupidity in his eyes. “Who was the fucking genius who made this fucking abomination?”

“HEY NOW. DON’T YOU DARE DISS MALCADOR AND MY PLANS. YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT IT WAS LIKE  _ BEFORE _ THE IMPERIUM. YOU THINK THIS IS BAD? YOU HAVEN’T SEEN ANYTHING KIDDO. I LIVED THROUGH IT ALL.”

“Really?” Asked Ragio in a tone of disbelief. “Have you? Have you  _ really _ ?”

“CONSIDERING I AM OVER FORTY THOUSAND YEARS OLD AND HAVE SEEN THE DARK AGE OF TECHNOLOGY TO ITS FULLEST EXTENT. YES. YES I HAVE.”

“Don’t you think that rapid expansion without a force to stay behind and actually keep watch over your planets that support you is a good idea in the long run? How the fuck is this even working!?”

“IF YOU THINK THERE IS TIME FOR THAT YOU ARE DEAD WRONG. THE FORCE LEFT BEHIND IS THE ADMINISTRATUM’S JOB. THIS PLACE MIGHT NOT BE SORTED OUT NOW, BUT IT WOULD BE IN A FEW DECADES. IT’S EASY TO CRITICIZE SOMETHING YOU HAVEN’T SEEN AND CAN BARELY EVEN CONCEPTUALIZE.”

“Really fucking easy to criticize something that you live through. Holy crap, I swear…”

“KIDDO. I AM GOING TO SHOVE A BOOK DOWN YOUR THROAT. I UNDERSTAND THAT YOU’RE ANGRY. BUT THERE IS A DIFFERENCE BETWEEN IDEALISM AND REALISM. SADLY, YOUR ONLY ON IDEALISM.”

“I- you're  _ incorrigible, _ ” Ragio argued back, deflating slowly in the presence of his grandfather even as Constantin reported back that both Russ and Sanguinius personally would be along shortly to pick up their nephew.

Somewhere in between all the yelling and fighting however, Lorgar managed to slowly calm down Angron enough to allow the former gladiator off of the ground and to stand by himself. It had taken a while, but he was able to push away the thoughts of tearing his own child’s head off.

He calmly grasped gorefather as he looked at the back of his son, memorizing his features and comparing them to his own, to  _ hers _ .

This was their child…

Slowly, he looked down at his hands. The hands of a trained and professional killer. A very damn good one at that as he was reminded not a second later by the bite of the nails.

But for the first time in over 85 years. He ignored it completely, not wanting to give in to the bite, the whispers of blood and gore. Instead, focusing on his son’s back and torn fatigues.

He really had grown up poor. His clothes were well worn along with his shoes. His short hair was tasseled and wild though if that was from the fight or if it looked like that normally, he didn’t know.

He saw the blue mark through the torn shirt. No doubt he had bruised some ribs when he had thrown him in a desperate attempt to get him away from him and to not tear off his own son’s head.

Almost as if they weren’t his, his legs began to move. Walking slowly towards the man that was his offspring, coming to a halt just behind him and seeing as both he, his father and the Custodes next to him tensed up.

He was used to being the source of such a reaction. He was the Red Angel. Angron, the gladiator of gladiators. Eater of worlds.

But for the first time ever. It displeased him.

He didn’t want his own blood son to fear him. To hate him! It wasn’t his fault! He swore it. Swore he didn’t know that she was alive. If he had known, he would have done everything in his power to come back, to be there with her, to care for her, to make sure she was safe, happy and their son would grow up free! He desperately wanted to go back, back to a time when he had the chance to go back and fix this at the beginning. Maybe then it wouldn’t be like this, maybe then Ragio wouldn’t hate him…

_ Just like how he hates his own father. _

Slowly he reached out with hands wrapped in chains and armour, the same ones that tore apart countless xenos and even humans, the same hands that had killed and maimed countless others in the  **_Great Crusade_ ** . Ragio at that moment, turned to face him, the fear evident in his eyes for a second even as Angron could see as quickly his son’s eyes widened, adrenaline no doubt surging through his veins, preparing him for a fight.

Angron grabbed him by his shoulders, the nails demanding a finish to the fight earlier, demanding him to finish him and just go wild. He hated how they were pushing for him to kill the only thing in the entire galaxy that was left of  _ her _ .

Lorgar drew Illuminarum high in the air, ready to smash his brother out of the way to protect his nephew even as the Emperor drew on his psychic powers ready to blast Angron away.

Both of their plans quickly fell to ash however, as Angron moved faster than both could have expected, pulling Ragio closer to him.

Tight into his armour.

Into a  **_hug._ **

To say that everyone stood in complete and utter shock would be an understatement.

Of all the things they thought Angron capable of formulating, none were even near this one.

A minute passed in silence. The only sound being distant battle and the ruffling of chains as Angron pulled his son closer and closer.

“I didn’t know… son.” Angron whispered. “I didn’t know.” He repeated even as tears slipped from the gladiators eyes, his head twitching violently as the nails bit harder and harder in an attempt to snap him out of the somber moment.

Ragio for his part was in shock. Pressed against the cold ceramite armour of his father even as calloused, massive, rough hands pressed into his back. He felt his mouth open slightly then close again, completely speechless. Then go through the action again as if he was a gaping fish.

He had no words.

He could feel his father's entire body shake violently as he desperately attempted to cling onto him.

“Father?” He whispered before being shoved away, Angron suddenly turning his back to him even as he clutched onto the butcher’s nails hammered into his head and let out an ear-piercing roar.

“EQUERRY!” He demanded and a moment later, a Space Marine appeared at Angron’s side. “Let us go! The nails call for slaughter.”

“Yes my lord.” The Marine replied, and soon, thousands of Marines began a long march down the mountain village and towards Desh’ea.

When they reached the outskirts, Ragio saw as Angron paused and looked back over his shoulder towards him. The tiniest glimmer of regret flashing in his father's eyes as he walked away.

Why? Why did he have to do something like that, roar like an animal then just… Just run off like that? This couldn’t be the same man that left them, could it? If he was, then he- he wouldn’t…? Ragio’s mind whirled, trying to make sense of it all. His face must have shown the turmoil he felt because now he could spy the pitying looks sent his way.

“...I have work to do.” He spoke up, not wanting to think about all of this right now. He had way too much bad blood there and not enough time to really go over it. He’d rather work.

“GOOD. FOCUS ON YOUR WORK. I UNDERSTAND YOU HAVE QUESTIONS.” The Emperor spoke even as he made ready to follow Angron, Lorgar already departing. “THE ANSWERS WILL HAVE TO WAIT. BUT THEY WILL COME IN DUE TIME.” His grandfather explained even as he walked off, the Golden Armoured warriors going after him even as what sounded like the whine of an animal was heard in the distance.

Except. It didn’t stop.

In fact, it was getting louder.

“What in the-” He turned only to duck instinctively as multiple  _ things _ flew straight over his head at speeds he thought impossible, heading for the other parts of the planet it looked like.

Then he was embalmed in light.

With all the noise and his attention being focused on the flying things above he missed the massive one now hovering in front of him, slowly coming down and landing like a bird of prey, colored light blue and yellow.

Soon, it deployed a ramp, followed by the sound of metal striking metal.

“Well, slap me and call me wrong! Yer do look like yer father!” A deep voice exclaimed as Ragio’s eyes adjusted to the bright light to see what looked like… well, a man. If a man was as tall as him and looked like he was raised by wolves.

But like his father, Lorgar, and the Emperor, he was massive! Clad in the same style armour as the earlier ones along with a massive sword and fire spitter by his side.

His hair was different however, long hair and beards were a rarity on Nuceria; especially ones with braids. In the very warm climate, even in the mountains, they just weren’t practical.

It wasn’t just him though. Multiple other, smaller, armoured warriors descended by his side.

“Who… who are you?” He asked cautiously.

“Me?” The man asked in surprise even as he let out a belly laugh and extended his arms. “I’m yer uncle! But call me Leman! Everyone does!”

“Leman… Well, you certainly do look like you’re from a valley of some sorts…” He shrugged, this family was just weird. “Ragio. I’m a healer.”

“Shite, yer don’t say!” Leman exclaimed even as he grabbed both of his shoulders. What was it with everyone in this family and physical contact!?

“Brother! There you are!” An almost heavenly voice sounded even as a moment later, a massive winged warrior landed by them. Their face the picture of perfection and beauty, even as it was screwed with annoyance. “Don’t run off on me like that! We are needed back at the evacuation sites. If things are going to plan then the trains will begin to make their way within the hour.”

Ragio couldn’t help it, he took one look at the angel and couldn’t stop from uttering out, “Holy shit, I think you're the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”

Leman immediately began laughing, soon joined by the rest of the warriors which had come from the craft with him. Practically wheezing even as the angel stepped into the light. His annoyed face now clear, also revealing his… oh…  _ male _ features…

“Oh… sorry.” Ragio whispered.

The angel sighed even as a smile graced his lips and he reached out with one massive hand. “I am Sanguinius.”

Ragio calmly shook the angels hands. Shocked at how smooth it was. “I still think you are probably the most handsome man I have ever seen.”

Sanguinius raised an eyebrow even as another bout of laughter took Leman.

“I am also your uncle.” He then said as a matter-of-factly, causing Ragio’s eyes to go wide with surprise.

“Huh?” Ragio then paused and then realized what was implied, “No! No that is not what I meant! Can’t a man just compliment another!?” He groaned as Leman began to laugh even harder at this point. “Why does this have to happen to me…?”

“This is bloody gold!” Leman exclaimed. “Magnus ain’t ever goin’ to believe it!”

Ragio slowly brought up a hand and rubbed his eyes. “How many uncles do I have…  _ exactly _ .” He would  _ not _ make that mistake again.

“Nineteen,” Sanguinius said without even really thinking about it.

“And aunts?”

“None.”

“So wait, all guys? Did the Emperor just get really lucky and have nothing but boys?”

“That’s… a story for another time…” Sanguinius dodged the question since time was of the essence at the moment.

“Ney, were all vat born.” Leman explained even as he pointed up and into the belly of the steel beast. “Now come on! We’re wasting action! Those refugees won’t protect themselves.”

“Wait! I have to go grab my medical bag-”

“No offense Ragio.” Sanguinius butted in. “But I believe we have far more advanced tools and medicine than you.”

“I... “ Ragio tried to argue, then looked at the sheer amount of technology he was surrounded by and realized he would be fighting an already losing battle. “Fine, let’s go.” He slowly stepped toward the flying machine, becoming hesitant as he reached the ramp, feeling as his ‘uncle’ Leman put a hand around his shoulders and turned back towards Sanguinius. “Yer comin’  _ sister _ ?” He asked in a jesting tone even as Sanguinius sputtered before laughing as well.

“Lead on, I heard canids are great at that.” He shot back, causing Leman to let out a bark of laughter even as he gently pushed Ragio up into the bay and slowly sat him down onto a seat.

He wondered how this thing would move, how did the dynamics work? Something completely made of metal, able to fly through the air? Remarkable… He’s never even been around most modern technology, the most modern he has been around was… Hm… His tools? He had heard about Vox transmitters and receivers but had never seen one...

He heard a low pitch whine begin to increase even as Sanguinius stood, locking his magnetic sabatons into place along with Leman. The seats were far too small for the Primarchs. He wondered what was going to happen and continued to look around the ‘Stormbird’.

The Leman looked at him. “Oi!” He shouted even as he came closer and slammed down a metal cage around him. “Strap in, unless yer wanna go flyin’ off.” He lectured even as he walked back to his position, the whine now reaching a new pitch even as the ramp closed.

“Ready!” Leman suddenly shouted. “Get us back to the forward command post!”

“Aye, wolf king.” A shout came back from the cockpit as suddenly Ragio felt weightlessness in his stomach.

Well… it wasn’t so bad-

Immediately, all of the weight punched back as he was pushed back into his seat, all he could do was scream incoherently as his entire body went through the traumatic experience of Space Wolf flying.

How in the actual fuck did anyone stand this!? The fuck was happening!? How  _ fast  _ were they going!? Was he going to die!? Did something go wrong!?

And then, everything stabilized. It felt almost as if he was on the ground again, except with that sense of no stable earth below you and that slight feeling of weightlessness...

That and Uncle Leman was laughing at him again even as Sanguinius was giving him a look of pity.

“Roger, escorts leveling off starboard and port.” The pilot was heard speaking again as Ragio turned to look at a picture projector showing the outside- WOW! They were HIGH! Higher than even birds could fly even as two other flying things appeared to be flying besides them.

“Breaking cloud layer.” The pilot spoke and the feed of the projector was filled with whiteness before being replaced with… beauty…

The night stars. He never saw them shining so brightly! He could make out brighter ones, dimmer ones, he could even see some ships in the distance. Looking at all of this made him feel like a little kid again, despite being eighty-five. “I’ve never actually seen the stars… There’s always a thick smog from the cities and the wastelands.” He idly spoke, his entire attention glued to the beyond.

He really was out of his element here. If they could achieve technological feats like this, wear and use armour beyond what he could tear and even have medicine better than what he was able to make… What else do they have that he could learn from?

Oh, he could only imagine what kinds of things he could learn! Maybe visit a library? The only library he ever could visit wasn’t even big enough for him to fit in anymore...

“Approaching staging ground.” The pilot spoke up even as the escorts broke off and they broke the cloud layer again appearing- the northern grasslands!? How!? They were hundreds of kilometers away from the village! How was that possible!?

“We went so fast- how? We just- we were in my village only minutes ago! And the stars! And now we’re on the other side of the planet! It took me weeks to walk from my village to hear-” Ragio was babbling, just like his own mother would when she got nervous. Though, there was a bubble of laughter as he regarded everything, impressed and wanting to see how much more there was to experience.

“I suppose it is an awe-inspiring sight.” Sanguinius took pity on Ragio, by stopping his babbling.

“Don’t worry kid.” Leman butted in. “We were all like this the first time we saw these things.”

“I’m sorry! I’ve just never seen anything like this before! I’ve never flown, I have never seen armour like yours, I didn’t even know here were people out there as big as me! What else is there? What about the stars? The other planets? The galaxy!?” He couldn’t stop the grin coming onto his face, getting excited about all this knowledge he just couldn’t wait to break open.

“Just wait until yer see Terra.” Leman smiled. “Throneworld and cradle of Mankind. The entire planet is essentially a massive city with spires reaching into the atmosphere.” Leman supplied, watching how the man, well, more like a boy, got even more excited.

“What kind of building techniques are used to make buildings like that? How high did they go? What kind of trees and animals are there on Terra? What about oceans? I think there’s one here on Nuceria, but I’ve never seen it.”

“There isn't much on Terra besides that. But there are other planets.” Sanguinius explained, “An entire galaxy’s worth of them. But I believe they shall be the things you least think of right now.”

“Wow…” He breathed out a small sigh, wondering about everything else he would ask. “I need to start reading! Are there any books I can read about all of this?”

“Plenty.” Sanguninius smiled once more even as the Stormbird landed with a thud. “I will make sure to get you to Magnus at first chance.” Leman made a face but was elbowed by his brother. “Be nice.”

“I know, I’m just playin’. He just sounds like the nerd, you know?”

Then the ramp dropped, unveiling things he had never seen before. Towers, massive towers with firespitters, tracked vehicles moving everywhere along with many  _ many _ more of the armoured warriors; some colored red and black, others blue and yellow, some were even yellow and white with hints of black.

“Come along boy.” Leman pushed him on, a hand on his shoulders as he guided him down the Stormbird and Sanguinius joined them by their side.

“This is- this is…” Ragio stuttered.

“Look up.” Sanguinius said, pointing to the sky with a finger.

And so he did, his eyes somehow going wider even as he felt his breath catch in his throat.

“What… What are  _ those _ !?” He managed to choke out.

“Ships.” Leman clarified. “Battle-barges. Must have come into lower orbit to protect us easier with fighter escort and fire support.”

Above were the most massive monstrosities he had ever gazed upon in his life. Long with countless towers, spires and what looked to be massive castles built into these ships. The ships could easily dwarf his entire village, hell, his village looked like it could fit comfortably in one of those things’ cannons! And have room to fit a few more copies with them!

The shadows they cast below them made the already dark night into an even darker one, so massive it was to blot out the stars themselves. It was so massive, he was sure the capital Desh’ea would be nothing more than a smudge on one of their towers compared to the majesty and sheer size of just one ship.

And there were so many of them.

“Holy shit.”

“A wondrous sight.” Sanguinius hummed, then sputtered. “By Baal, what are  _ they _ doing here?”

“What? Who?” Leman asked.

“ _ They _ !” Sanguinius answered, pointing violently towards some buildings off in the distance.

“Oh, for helvete’s sake! I thought they were supposed to stay in orbit, Equerry!”

A warrior came to Leman’s side immediately and gave his lord a report with a smirk on his face. “We tried my lord, they went and pissed off the Fists and Iron Warriors building everything, said they were going to have to re-do the entire plan now.”

“What- what are you talking about?” Ragio asked, confused. “The building?”

“Wha’?” Leman responded to his nephew. “Ney boy! The damned titans!”

“Ti-Titans?” Ragio’s face screwed in confusion, yet another thing he didn’t understand. “What are those? You mean the buildings?”

Before Leman could respond, Sanguinius pointed at the far off buildings. “Those aren’t buildings. In fact, want a closer look?”

“How are you going to give me a closer-”

“Like this.” Sanguinius proceeded to quickly grab Ragio around his stomach, pulling him closer to his armour in almost a hugging manner. The Blood Angels around them would deny feeling jealous to their dying day.

And just like that, they jumped into the air with the flap of massive angelic wings. Taking to it as if they were birds.

“HOLY SHIIIIIIT!” Ragio screamed before laughing gleefully.

“Now look!” His uncle shouted down at him. “THAT, is a titan!”

Wait… did the building have a face!? It had some towers on top and a lot of guns and- THE HEAD JUST MOVED! HOLY SHIT!? WHAT!? WHAT WAS HAPPENING!?

“PRINCEPS TURNET!” Sanguinius shouted towards the titan, his voice magnified in some unknown way even as he swung them around the titan and diving for the ground some hundreds of meters in front of the giant, putting Ragio gently onto his feet.

“That’s a titan! A living fortress! Holy shit… wait, why would you build one that can’t move on Nuceri-” His words came to a rampant stop as what could only be described as the loudest war horn he had ever heard almost blasted apart his ear drums.

Then, to only further his astonishment. The titan  _ walked _ .

It  _ walked _ .

A fucking  _ building, _ moved and  _ walked _ .

The earth itself shook as it walked towards them.

Wait… towards them?

“Um-uncle, shouldn’t we get out of the way?”

“Nonsense, he is merely greeting us!” Sanguininius smiled, attempting to calm his worried nephew even as the titan got closer and closer.

“Uncle…” He tried again as a massive ‘foot’ landed right in front of them and the titan stopped.

Then a muted booming sound was heard. “PRIMARCH SANGUINIUS.” Ragio looked up, to see the titan  _ staring at them _ !

Holy shit…

“Princeps Turnet.” Sanguinius inclined his head. “May I present Ragio, son of Primarch Angron. Ragio, Princeps Esau Turnet, master of the engine,  _ Dies Irae _ .”

“AN HONOUR.” The booming voice of the titan spoke. “IS THERE SOME ISSUE YOU HAVE COME TO COMPLAIN ABOUT?”

Ragio couldn’t speak, he was too in shock and awe at the massive machine… building…? Thing…??? “N-no. I don’t…” He wondered what he could do with something like this…

Leman, however, did have an issue as he quickly made his way to the both of them. “We wan’ tae know why in the fookin’ hells are ye here!?”

“ACCORDING TO THE WAR MEETINGS. THERE ARE 15 PRIMARCHS ON PLANET ALONG WITH THE EMPEROR HIMSELF.” The Princeps explained. “WE WOULD NOT HAVE THE HONOUR OF SUCH A GLORIOUS WALK DENIED TO US.”

“We already have enough firepower here! Ye were  **not invited!** ”

“WE ACKNOWLEDGE YOUR COMPLAINT.”

“Oh good, then get ou-”

“AND DULY IGNORE IT.”

Leman smacked a hand to his face, rubbing angrily as he attempted to not lose his temper at the damned titan. “Get me on the Vox with that blueberry bastard of a brother! The plan did not have fookin’ titans anywhere!”

**...  
** **Nuceria - 000.M31 - Western Hemisphere  
...**

“...once we finish deployment of all Astartes elements, we shall begin the march immediately. The cities in this part of the planet are richer. Almost as rich as Desh’ea itself. In fact, they are mostly palace retreats for the nobility, meaning...” Horus waved his hand in a suggestive motion at the forward command center even as he was in a meeting with Mortarion and Lion.

“Kill them.” The Lion spoke simply. “No need to take them prisoner.” He further elaborated to his sons that stood by his side.

“Agreed.” Mortarion added in. “There is no need for this…  _ vermin _ in the Imperium.”

“Brothers, while I do agree,” Horus looked at both of his brothers. “We need to keep in mind that there will be many slaves here as well. The transports from Leman and Sanguinius have already begun arriving, however, we will need to ensure a clear and steady stream of-” Horus suddenly stopped as who looked to be a  _ very _ annoyed Ezekiel Abbadon entered the building.

“Ezekiel. What is it?” Horus demanded, taking the interruption with all due grace.

“My Lords.” Abbadon inclined his head towards all the present Primarchs before rising. “A message for you my Lord Warmaster. From Lord Russ, marked urgent.”

“A hymnal or?” Horus asked.

“Multi-line vox hololith call.” Abbadon elaborated even as he approached the table, punching in a frequency and passcode.

“-Can’t believe ye went and told me ta ask Hor- Ah! There ya bloody well are!” Leman’s rough voice soon filled the air even as Horus’ eyebrows furrowed together in confusion.

“Leman.” He greeted. “Why the interruption?”

“He doesn’t understand,” Came a sigh from yet another voice even as Leman and Roboute Guilliman’s forms shimmered into existence on the hololith. “The Titan’s aren’t  _ sworn _ to me, Leman. They are attached to the 63rd Expeditionary fleet,  _ therefore _ they claim Horus as their contractee and person who they swore their oath to walk to! I have  _ nothing _ to do with this!” Roboute explained in a frustrated voice even as he appeared to be giving out multiple other orders while doing so.

“Wait, what is this about?” Horus asked, now thoroughly confused.

“Oh, the bloody titans!” Leman snarled. “Can ye’ tell them to feck right off back to orbit!? They decided to land!”

“Which titans?” The Lion demanded, having enough of this foolishness immediately.

“Half of the bloody  _ Legio Mortis!” _ Leman exclaimed, throwing his hands into the air.

“Wait, what!?” Horus asked in shock. “Half of a legio- what? Why? We ordered them to stay-”

“AS WE HAVE EXPLAINED TO PRIMARCH SANGUINIUS.” A deep baritone voice interrupted them even as the hololith adjusted to show a massive titan standing in the distance. “WE WILL NOT HAVE SUCH A GLORIOUS WALK DENIED TO US.”

“Hey, we’re having a conversation here that you were definitely not invited to. Like you not being invited to this operation.” Sanguinius butted in. “Honestly! The Iron Warriors and Imperial Fists are  _ still _ holding a grudge over it!”

“Stop!” Horus demanded, everyone instantly falling silent at the Warmasters request even as he rubbed his eyes and let out a deep sigh, knowing that the titans wouldn’t back out. “Princeps Turnet… you may walk with us-”

“EXCELLENT. WE SHALL MOBILISE THE LEGIO.”

“But walk in our defense, sending coordinates now.”

“GOOD. WE SHALL ARRIVE AS SOON AS POSSIBLE.”

“Good, then this is settled.” Horus shut off the hololith without another word.

“Brother.” The Lion interjected. “You do know, we are quite literally a hemisphere away?”

“Yes.”

“And it will take the titan hours to even get in range of their biggest weaponry.”

“Yes.”

“You do realize they aren’t fools, correct?”

“Oh, of course, I do.” He elaborated even as he reached for Worldbreaker. “But I won’t be here to hear it when they vox back.” He moved to the building exit. “And I seem to have forgotten my helmet and it’s built-in vox. How careless of me.”

Lion nodded his head appreciatively, sounded like something he would have done. Both he and Mortarion followed their brother out into the field, filled to the brim with fully geared Astartes as before them stretched a kilometer of open field before the palaces began with their lush estates.

Soon enough they were joined by various higher ranking scouts who all saluted the Primarchs before taking a knee.

“As planned my lords, most of the nobility are either sleeping or too drunk or high to care.” An older one elaborated. “Furthermore, we have detected fortified barracks filled with guards.” They displayed a hololith and began ticking off locations. “Here, here and here.” They finished after counting off all of them.

“Good,” Mortarion spoke. Wouldn’t do to have even more nuisances running around and ruining the operation. Not like they could, but the thought counted. “Deliver them to the artillery masters of the seventh legion.” The scouts nodded and wordlessly ran off with the coordinates.

“Time to assault… three mikes.” Horus said even as he checked his chronometers and besides him Hastur Sejanus put on his helmet and began giving out orders, mustering the rest of the legion as they all slowly got into position.

The Lion was soon joined by the Deathwing and gave his farewells as he joined his sons in the Land Raiders, due to take them to the city’s eastern flank while Mortarion marched off to the west, still within view due to the uneven terrain.

“One mike,” Horus explained even as crouched down and took a deep breath.

There was always something beautiful on the eve of a battle.

Everything went completely silent. Even the systems of his power armour quieted down as he observed the city in the distance. Light by only small amounts of light.

His enhanced eyes could even see through some of the bigger windows at this distance at just what…  _ perverse _ actions the so-called ‘nobles’ were taking part in. What should have been quaint, picturesque villas used for a getaway were instead the hovels used to continue their debased acts, like they learned nothing from what happened eighty-five years ago.

That ruined even any remote beauty that the moment held for him as it was quickly replaced by disgust as he was reminded of why they were here.

Slowly, he stood as he raised himself to his full height.

He rose a hand and began to count down.

“All Astartes elements under my command. Commencing charge on my mark.”

One last breath.

“3, 2, 1… Mark.”

Instantly, the roar of dozens of engines was heard as the Ravenwing of the Dark Angels sped ahead of the Deathwing’s Land Raiders, the latter’s massive engines turning over in a burst of orange-hued promethium fueled smoke as their tracks spun and they were off.

At the same time, Horus along with his Justaerin and thousands of his sons began their quick march along with Mortarion and the rest of the escorting Death Guard.

Precisely fifteen seconds later. A massive boom was heard from the rear, followed by dozens of them.

Twenty seconds later, Horus’ augmented eyes spotted as the multiple artillery rounds fell directly on the guard barracks. Dropped with unparalleled accuracy by the Imperial Fists artillery masters.

Sixty seconds later. They entered the city, causing unmatchable chaos as they split off, beginning to clear palaces and various estates even as the power to the city was cut. The eyes of the Space Marines capable of seeing easily in the dark even without their helmets.

To say that what happened afterward was a slaughter, would be an affront to the very definition of the word.

The air was completely filled with the collective shrieks of women awoken, the shouts of men, the breaking of walls and the sweet sound of vengeance. Not a single villa would be left unturned, not a single occupant would not be judged, not a single morning would ever crest on this Nuceria again.

He felt a single pang of sorrow when he heard the sounds of young children crying, of infants terrorized. None of them deserved what was happening, merely that they happened to be born on this planet. He gave specific orders that children under the age of twelve standard Terran years were not to be harmed and be given a pardon unless deemed unsalvageable. It was a judgment for the youngest, who may not have had the chance to be corrupted by their parents just yet.

He debated on joining his sons during the first initial wave but decided against it. He was the leader after all, and it wouldn’t do for him to be suddenly unavailable because he was too busy having the time of his life.

He wondered how Lion was doing.

“This is an  _ affront _ to my skill.” The Captain-Paladin of the Dark Angels complained as he gutted yet another guard with extreme ease. Like swatting at flies during those seven weeks of hell...

“Oh, be quiet Captain.” Tarik Torgaddon laughed as he smashed through what appeared to be a noble. Well, former noble now. More like Pâté. Mmmm, he could go for some Pâté. “These are slavers. No one expected them to put up any fight.”

“True, shame that,” Corswain added on as he cleaved through a guard, this one was running away even! What, by the forests of Caliban, were these cowardly beings that even dared called themselves human!

“I agree with Captain Torgaddon.” Said, Holguin, Lieutenant of the Deathwing, smashing his way through a wall to get into the building they were fighting in. “It may not be a challenge… barely a battle in fact. But it is better than the seven weeks of pure humiliation and boredom we have suffered through.” He stomped on the head of a half-dead guard, smashing it into pulp. “But these slavers  _ disgust _ me. Enslaving weaker people for pure entertainment.” He spat on the corpse. “What vermin. Not worth the time it will take to scrape them off of my boots.”

“Still entertainment.” Tarik sheathed his chainsword even as his ears picked up on something.

Crying.

He moved towards a door, being stopped by Holguin who held a hand out in front of him. “It could be a trap.”

“A trap? A trap for what and who? Flies?” Tarik responded, shoving his hand aside and attempting to open the door, only to find it jammed. He sighed before simply walking forward and clean through the door thanks to his power armour. “Thinking any trap here on this mudhole can do anything against us. Next, I suppose you’re going to say that you took up knitting like the Imperial Fists.” He jested even as his eyes adjusted to the darkness and the sound became clear.

It was the crying of a child.

On the ground in front of him, his helmet automatically detected two humanoid forms. A guard by the looks of his clothes and a female slave, judging by her brand that was visible underneath her forearm, her hands were clutching the guard’s neck.

It didn’t really matter since a pile of rubble had crushed in their bodies, appearing to kill them instantly.

And beside them was a small boy. No older than four or maybe five standard years by his looks.

He was clutching onto the female slave’s robes, muttering something out in what sounded to his helmets cogitator as Nucerian. Soon, the translation came through.

“Momma! Momma!”

“What is this?” Corswain asked, making his way into the room and quickly scanning the situation before letting out a grunt and walking back out. Holguin looked after him before deciding to apparently join the Lieutenant.

Leaving only Tarik standing there, looking down at the child with pity.

In his grief and tears, he had apparently not even noticed the massive Space Marine standing there in the darkness. It was a shame that this had to be the consequence of this compliance. The deaths of at least some innocents and others were to be expected.

The child now had apparently realized what exactly had happened, as he attempted to crawl closer to his mother's face, crying and wailing with all the strength his tiny body possessed. He noted that the boy and woman had the same brand, one that made his skin crawl just looking at it.

Tarik sighed. He hated himself for this. Unlike most of his brothers who had either detached themselves from their more human emotions or had become blunt towards them, he had not.

The child did not deserve this. To be discovered afterward next to his own mother's corpse.

Taking pity, he activated a light that he had carried with him, scaring the child who now whirled around to see the massive marine standing there even as his eyes went wide in fear, his grief, at least for the moment, forgotten.

Tarik slowly reached out a hand and took an unruly step, causing the child to press himself closer into his mother.

He chided himself for such carelessness. Of course the boy would be afraid! He had most likely just lost anything of value or meaning to him on this entire grox-hole of a planet.

Tarik reached up with both of his hands and slowly unclasped his helmet, showing his human features. This caused the boy’s eyes to spark in surprise.

Then he knelt down and reached towards him.

“Come.” He uttered the word in Nucerian. Trusting his armour’s cogitators to relay the language to him via one of the many mind links.

The boy turned around to look at his mother, before looking back to Tarik, a look of awe now mixed in with the fear and sadness.

“Momma…” He muttered again.

“She is gone child,” Tarik spoke slowly and in a low tone, attempting to break it as gently as he could to the poor boy. “There is no place for you here.”

Once more, the child looked back and forth between his mother and Tarik, slowly beginning to inch closer to the marine. When he had finally reached Tarik’s outstretched hand, he wrapped his whole hand around one of the marines fingers. The boy’s fingers weren’t even long enough to wrap all the way around.

The boy looked up at him, hope finally beginning to show in his eyes as he looked back at his dead mother yet again before looking Tarik directly into his eyes, showing just how unnaturally strong Nuceria had made him even as young as he was. “What… now?” He asked carefully even as Tarik smiled gently, grabbing him and lifting him easily.

“Now, you come with me.” He began to walk out of the room.

“What… happen?” The child asked, hesitantly pressing himself into Tarik’s chestplate. The boy was scared for a second, thinking back on what his mother told him long ago what his fate was. “Pleasure-?”

Tarik swallowed down the bile that threatened to come up at just that single word. He quickly shook his head, his hatred for the Nucerians doubling evermore. “Never. Rejoice young one, for you shall take to the stars.” He explained, reaching down and smoothing some hair away from the boy’s face with a massive armoured finger. “And there, you shall become my brother.”

**…**

Elikas was quick in his work, scouring through the countless minds of the Nucerians, passing judgment and relaying them to his brothers. He already had to pass the Emperor’s judgment on three children, barely old enough to enjoy what they did to slaves.

Despicable.

He supposed it could have been worse, he was sure of it. It was bad enough to see what these people lived through in flashes, seeing what the abusers did. If he were not an Astartes, he would have caved from the sheer disgust at everything he witnessed.

He hated them, pure, plain and simple. He hated these people with every fibre of his being. He hated their way of life, he hated their customs, their culture, he hated every single part of them. He wanted nothing more than for them to be wiped from the face of the galaxy, nothing of value would be lost.

He felt a ripple in the warp, a tiny one as his mind scoured through the disarray of the warzone. He idly wondered where it came from as he weaved through the bodies and the fires of the district, almost in a calm like state. He just had to feel out where it came from as he continued to weave into the collapsed wall of one of the villas.

Odd, he would think as he passed by the burning art pieces and the members of the Sons of Horus and his own Legion as they continued to exterminate the nobles and free slaves. A piece of the pillars nearby fell to the ground as flames licked up their form, almost as if he was taking a passive stroll through the old Terran concept of hell.

He could feel himself getting closer to the ripple, a voice that started to cry out in fear through the warp, reminding him of a psyker who couldn’t control their powers. Ah, that might be it.

Coming to a stop at one of the ornately decorated doors of the villa, charring to black soot before his eyes, his transhuman senses and abilities were able to pick through the holes and spy at a couple of people hiding in the slowly engulfing room of fire.

A guard and a boy, both having a similar familial resemblance, a quick foray into the mind and flashes of a life before all of this. He thought it was quite fortunate that it was he who found them both, for if one of his brothers had found them, they would have executed the guard and taken the child psyker.

Well, good thing he was here. Was always a messy business to separate a child from their father.

Both branded to be cattle, one old enough to serve as a shield, another to serve as living furniture. Perhaps the Nucerians didn’t know of the boy’s abilities? They certainly were daft enough to pass by basic human decency, so perhaps they passed over a tiny slave who had abilities beyond what they could ever hope to control.

Not even bothering to open the door, he simply walked through what was left of it and into the spitting flames that couldn’t ever hope to damage him or his armour. He could see and feel the passing thoughts in their minds, the fear they showed as they watched him descend upon them from the fires of their own version of hell.

“If you don’t take off that armour, my brothers may shoot you on sight. We have orders to kill any and all guards from Nuceria.” He spoke to them, not bothering to use the translators and instead let his abilities do the work for him. He was beyond pleased to know that the child stilled and was able to finally meet and hear someone like him. “If you want to live, you best do as I say.”

The father clutched at his son, his own sword having long ago been dropped to the floor after it heated too much to even use anymore. He wondered what the giant was going to do, he wondered if all of the slaves, even ones who were guards were being slaughtered as well.

“Well, if we knew that, we wouldn’t have those orders. Come along then, I don’t suppose you want to die in the blazes of your former master’s home, now do you?” They nodded, wanting to escape from their death. “Then stand aside, and let me show you what one such as us can do.”

A wave of his hand, the barest of flexes on his mind, and he swept away the flames around them, a clear path for them to follow. The father was confused, questions coming through his mind on why now, why save them?

“We are here to save the slaves, after all. And who am I to allow one of my kind to die here when I could have saved them?” He idly shrugged, turning and expecting them to follow him. “It is what we do, after all.”

“Can I do it too?” The tiny voice of the boy flitted through Elikas’ mind, the visions of one who wanted to get back at those who deemed him as less than a footstool, as nothing more than cattle.

Elikas had wanted to ask him the same thing. “If you wish to be my brother, then you will have to work. It will be your choice.”

He knew the boy would choose to follow, and that his father would want him to be like their saviours. A fitting start for a new Dark Angel.

**...  
** **Nuceria - 000.M31 - Desh’ea - Palace district  
...**

The guard master of Palace Praxica was running as if his life depended on it.

More specifically, he was running away from  _ something _ . So yes, he really was running for his life.

What could only be described as a damned shadow was following him all across the palace grounds, like an angry shadow that was going to split him apart with its blackened teeth.

He screamed for help, but anytime he rounded a corner he ran into the corpses of his fellow guards. Even when he found some of the other guards that were alive or even some of the slave guards, he would send them in that thing’s path. Then shortly after he would hear the screams and the sounds and- and- oh god.

The further he ran the more corpses he saw, and fewer people he could throw in that thing’s way.

He looked behind him, behind him just a few feet away was a monster with what looked like a sadistic grin.

Letting out a terrified scream, he launched himself further only to smash directly into a wall.

“Brother.” The  _ thing _ behind him suddenly spoke in what he identified as High Gothic. “Clear already?” The voice was as vile and rough as the sand from the arenas, sending a frightening chill down his spine even as he looked up to see…

“Konrad.” The other, massive being greeted in return. “Is this the head watchman?”

Thinking quickly, and attempting to save his own skin, he spoke. “Ye-yes! That’s me!”

“Good.” And suddenly, a hand, faster than lightning itself reached down and grasped his neck, before lifting him high into the air, so that he was face to face with the Primarch. “The panic room. Where is it?” The creature demanded even as the guard panicked, thinking quickly.

“You don’t need to answer.” The creature behind him threatened. “It would make this far more enjoyable that way.” He heard the distinct noise of a power-weapon turning on, causing him to squirm further in the man's grasp.

“Be-behind the Reksium throne! But-but you can’t enter it- it’s biometrics only-”

“Thank you.” The man holding him spoke even as he was suddenly torn asunder by a Lightning claw from behind, being split clean in half.

“Good. That is the main problem over and done with.” Konrad smirked. “Where is Jaghatai?”

“He is hunting in the steppes and wastelands. I heard his laughter over the vox.” Corvus answered even as he turned around. “Let us continue with the plans of purging the rest of this district.”

“Good. I shall go round up the other nobles little Raven,” Konrad spoke, turning around and walking away.

“You do so brother. I have…” Corvus hesitated as he looked down at the corpse in utter disgust. “- _ vermin _ to hunt.” With that, both figures blended into the shadows, becoming one with them.

Hunting down vermin like this was quickly becoming a favoured pass time for the Raven. After he and Konrad separated, he was seeing to the extermination of the guards, anyone else who would have been maliciously complicit in the workings of the palace and its lord and with making sure the slaves were freed and sent on their way.

It disgusted him.

Watching what happens on this planet through a vid was one thing, but seeing it in practice and the actual effects was another matter entirely. He memorized the brands and knew what each meant as he met with more and more slaves, either unshackling them or saving them from the hands of another who was desperately trying to have another moment with them before it all ended.

After going through the smaller estates, he could guess on what kind of situation each slave would be in, and he hated having that knowledge. He was quite thankful that Konrad was here, since Konrad had very little qualms about killing. It also served to remind him to not lose his composure and just orbitally bombard every estate.

He should get that checked...

“-my Primarch? Disturbing news!” The vox link sprung to life, Corvus answered and wondered what could possibly be more disturbing than now.

“What is it?”

“Message from the Dark Angels, apparently the situation with the guards has gotten more complex. Apparently, Nucerian law allows for slaves to be forced as guards.”

Damn. That made everything worse, not to mention three times as complex, they did promise that they would save as many slaves as possible… Now they had to work to confirm that every guard was either free or a slave or just anything! Why couldn’t these animals have just made it easier on them and just kept them separate?

He sighed as he tuned his vox for the invasion groups under his command. “All invasion groups. New information has come to light. Check every guard for slave markings before execution. Forced labour has been confirmed to extend to their positions.” He clicked off before he could hear the responses.

If his patience had been heavily tried before. It was gone now.

There would be no mercy for these barbarians.

No surrender.

No pity.

He stalked off into the darkness, already stalking his next prey.

**...  
** **Nuceria - 000.M31 - Desh’ea - Outskirts  
...**

“Stand to! Stand to!” The guard captain exclaimed as he moved up and down the ranks of lasgun armed guards even as in the distance a heavily rhythmic thumping was heard.

“Defensive positions! Come on!” He demanded even as some of the guards took cover behind the merlons of the city walls while others peeked by them, attempting to see in the darkness, the power having been cut some time ago.

All the while, the thumping was getting louder and louder. No human army was possible of making such a mass of noise, what was coming for them!?

“Sir! Light!” One of the guards called off, and sure enough, there was a light. Or rather… thousands of them.

Thousands of pairs of glowing red…  _ eyes!? _

Gods help them all… It was as if hell itself had opened and sent their hordes right for them...

With a march matching the hordes of hell themselves, they came closer and closer until they could see them clearly.

Monsters. Down to the last. Glowing eyes with grill, maw mouths, carrying weapons that roared like the fiercest predators.

Then they looked closer. And what they saw, truly horrified them.

Butcher's Nails. The ones in white and blue, had the  _ Butcher's nails… _

Oh gods they’re going to die here.

But… wait, they had no siege equipment! Did they plan on starving them out or-or-

“Sir! Some... _ things _ are coming closer!”

And true enough, three  _ things _ were coming closer. Creatures, showing… human features!? They had the same- armour, they now realized, but no helmets on!

Gods! These were  _ humans!? _ What could cause humans to grow so massive!?

The one in red and brass colored armour who had the nails stepped forward from a sea of those things, all in the color of white and blue. But what drew everyone's eyes was the one wearing the gold, so focused was their attention that they almost completely missed the one that was bald and wielded a massive mace.

“SLAVERS!” The one with the nails now shouted in a tone so commanding it caused all of the guards to stiffen in fear. “I, AM ANGRON!”

“I HAVE COME BACK HERE, TO THIS GROX RIDDEN SHITPILE OF A PLANET, TO FINISH WHAT I STARTED!”

He hefted the massive chain axe that he was wielding before pointing it at them.

“DEATH!”

He called out.

“DEATH!” He shouted yet again and this time, the stomping noise returned as the warriors behind him began to slam a hand over their chest plates.

“DEATH!” The warriors now began to shout, the ones in white and blue armour even screaming it in Nucerian on occasion.

“DEATH!” The shouts were replaced by something more akin to animalistic roars even as some of the guards began to turn and run, most of them being slaves.

Then, Angron’s axe fell, and with it came a flash of blinding golden light from the golden armoured man. So bright was the flash, that it turned night to day as it sent a massive section of the wall flying clear into the sky, the debris flying inwards into the city.

And just like the wall, the guards broke and fled for their lives even as the warriors charged inward, slaughtering and cutting through them like defenseless cattle.

The guard Captain fell to his knees, unable to stand up any longer as his entire will crumbled to the ground. He knew there was no winning against these monsters…

He didn’t even know he was dead until his head was rolling on the ground and he watched his body slide to the ground.

**...  
** **Nuceria - 000.M31 - The great plains - Freed Slave trains  
...**

It was so soft. Never had they ever felt something this soft before, this warm. When they woke up to the sound of explosions in the slave quarters, they thought it was another war from one of the other city-states. Lords fighting Lords, all continuously fighting for whatever little land and power they could have under the Planetary Governor.

Then the massive men in massive armor and holding massive weapons started to kill everyone… Or rather, they killed the lords, the guards, everyone who wasn’t a slave or a freedman.

Funny, they used to hate their brand, marking them as lesser and not even on the same footing as a regular person. As a thing. Now that very same brand was used to save their life from the rampaging hordes of hell- no… from the hordes of men from the stars.

They were helped up, left alone, told they were safe and taken to the trains, a long ride where no one hurt them, no one hit them or anything else. Then they came out to the camps, where they received a blanket, some medicine, and some wonderful broths and soups. Fresh water was given, some were even able to get baths, or even fresh clothes. Every pleasure slave was given a new set of clothing, every cattle slave was given extra food and every punishment slave was given extra time in the apothecarium tents.

She had never felt so… the word they used earlier was safe. Safe. She had never felt safe before.

It was nice to receive all of the extra soup, but it tasted bitter in her mouth. How long did they have to wait? Wait until they decide to stop being nice? How long until they started to treat them just as everyone else had?

Were they fattening them up? Were they going to die too? Were they lying to them? Was a worse fate going to happen to them compared to their lives? What was going to happen to them?

A shadow passed over her, one of the massive men was passing by again while she had these thoughts. Wondering what was going to happen and when it was going to stop. “How long until they hurt us too…?” She uttered out, stilling when the shadows passing her stopped as well.

“Pardon?”

She didn’t dare look up, no one was allowed to look up when your better was talking to you unless they told you to. Never forget that, never forget that. She swallowed, shivers running through her body as she suddenly felt like all of her words weren’t able to be formed any longer. But still, she forced them out, “H-How long until… u-u-until… y-you hurt us too…?”

The man was silent, she knew she spoke up too quickly. She must have sped up the process, she knew it, she must have agitated them and caused this safety to go flying away it was all her fault-

“Madam, we are here to save you, save everyone. We have no intention of letting any of you continue to be slaves.” He answered her, his voice silky smooth, soft and even angelic.

“But- but everyone…”

“We are not like the Nucerians. We do our best to serve the Imperium, to help our people. It is our very meaning of life, our duty, to work to help others.” He spoke with such conviction as if he truly and utterly believed that. It was odd to hear someone speak of helping others like that, instead of using that conviction to speak about how high and mighty they were.

It was… nice to hear someone speak like that…

“So please, no more talk of that.” She saw the shadow get bigger, her eyes still glued to the ground and staring towards her bowl of soup. She could faintly make out his armour on the edges of her vision, taking a knee before her to get closer to her level. “Alright?”

She couldn’t speak, she didn’t know what to do- what do you say to one of these giant men who came from the stars and were burning down the entire planet?

“Miss? Did you hear me?” He waited, and she still didn’t speak. “Come now, you can at least look up at me, you know?”

Forcing herself to look up at the man was one of the hardest things she has done in her life, but when she did she felt as if there would be no more worries.

She was looking at the face of an angel. A literal, actual angel with wings and everything!

“Y-you’re an Angel…” She spoke up, staring nearly open-mouthed at the man, who now grimaced slightly.

“Yes. I am aware.”

“Ma’am.” Another voice came from the right and she turned to see- a Nucerian!? With war fatigues and a massive medkit. What?

“Sorry for my uncle shocking you like that. It can be quite… overwhelming.” The man spoke, turning to his uncle who smiled and backed away even as he took out some equipment. “Now, any scrapes. Feel sore anywhere or anything out of place?”

She shook her head, still glancing at the angel- just wow. An actual angel. She couldn’t get over that. “N-no. I-I’m sorry, just… I don’t know. I just don’t know how to deal with this…”

“It is alright, you have had a massive shock but you shall be fine. You're free now.” He gently grabbed for one of her arms before sliding on a pneumatic sleeve and pumping it full of air even as the words echoed in the former slave’s mind.

_ Free... _

How was one… free? What did you do with freedom? It kind of made her slightly giddy, did this mean she didn’t have to work? Or be used? Or do anything else she didn’t want to?

“If you have everything under control, Ragio, then I will be off. Please take care of our friend here-” Sanguinius paused, looking towards the woman again.

“P-Psyche.” She answered, knowing that look was for a name. It felt kind of nice to speak out her name, her real name instead of what her slavers wanted her to be named. She nearly forgot it all, but just looking at this angel, made her feel a bit more confident, a bit more connected with herself. “My name is Psyche.”

When he smiled at her, it was like looking at the rising sun despite it being the near end of night. “It was nice meeting you, Psyche.” Then he walked off, the sun, ironically enough, slowly beginning to rise in front of him, the dawn making him look even more like an angel than he was before.

The angel continued to walk until he joined his brother on an overlook of the camp. This one was near the front, where the former slaves would be taken care of then sent off to the forward operating centers with temporary homes until the cities could be purged and rebuilt.

“Brother.” Sanguinius greeted even as he joined Leman, who was busy drinking out of a massive canteen that smelled of his trademark mjod.

“Sanguinius.” Leman greeted back, offering him the canteen which Sanguinius hastily denied.

“Thank you, but I have gone positively  _ allergic _ to even the smell of the stuff from the sheer amount that we have ingested on board the Bucephalus.”

“Ha!” Leman let out a bark of laughter before taking another, deep, swig. “A shame, all this…” He sighed, looking over the refugee camp and transports moving back towards the forward operating centers. “What drove these bastards to do all of this?” He asked, gesturing with the flask towards the newly arriving scores of slaves. “Savages.”

“Perhaps a lack of empathy? Or even perhaps a lack of a force to make them act like civilized beings. I suspect the enemy cultivated this planet to their specific liking. We may have to do a full sweep to make sure the planet is clean before allowing reconstruction to occur…” Sanguinius mused, his own senses taking in everything around him. He especially hated how his own powers were able to glance at a single person and see the worst moments of their lives playing for him like a holovision film.

But he was glad to witness the changing futures of the slaves, the people. Some had wide-open futures where they could do anything, be anything they wanted. The only limit was themselves. He did glance at one possible future, needing to get away from that one before it got too deep. Perhaps a future vid would explain that one...

Suddenly, Leman bumped his shoulder. “Brother, far distance, 63rd degree, far low.”

Sanguinius immediately put on his helmet and used its enhanced senses to zoom on ahead to see a cloud of billowing smoke.

It was still fairly far off, even dark there still.

He enhanced the image to see… ah, a few hundred guards marching, no doubt sent to retrieve the slaves.

He turned to give the order-

“Sanguinius.” Leman interrupted him. “What say you that we take this one for ourselves, leave the scraps to the boys.” He grinned as he already unsheathed his massive blade.

Sanguinius turned towards him and smiled back, despite Leman not being able to see it, he knew how his brother felt.

“Why Leman, I never thought you would ask.”

**...**

The head guardsman slowly advanced with his guards behind him. They had left their vehicles some distance behind in order to be able to sneak up on the slaves and take them alive and mostly unharmed.

“Sir! Seeing something approaching!”

“What?”

“Two massive humanoid shapes. Might be a couple of those warriors they are talking about over vox.”

“Ah.” He muttered to himself as he thought about the situation. Chances of finding two of the warriors randomly stalking the wastelands were low. Their camp or whatever it was must have been nearby. But also… “Any luck on the vox?”

“None sir. Still quiet, we can’t reach anyone.”

He sighed as he quickly thought up a plan. “Here’s what we are going to do, gather up the troop.” They quickly gathered around him. “On my mark, we focus them down. Starting with the larger one, I heard those can jump high with that pack he looks to have on his back.”

They all nodded around him, gathering up and pointing their lasguns at the warriors.

“On three. One, two, THREE!”

Immediately a massive light show of lasers went flying towards the warriors.

After about ten seconds of consistent fire, the dust rising combined with the dark made it harder to see.

“Hold! Hold your fire!” He commanded and they all stood down, expecting to see two corpses.

Only to see one approaching them, now at a far faster speed, and the other… completely gone!?

“Where the hell did he go!?” A guard demanded.

“Right here.” A very angry voice spoke from… above them! They quickly turned their guns up, only to find them falling out of their hands towards the ground.

With their hands still attached.

Before they even had time to scream, the other one reached them and stomped them out of existence, barely bothering to even use his sword or bolter as most were simply turned into paste.

“Sanguinius!” Leman called out. “I’m on six already!”

“Really?” A voice called back even as Sanguinius swooped back down and mowed down more of the guards. “I’m on twenty-two.”

“Twenty-two!?” Leman swore. “I will have no bloody woman mistakin’ brother outscoring me!” With a furious roar, he flung himself into a group of guards, who were desperately attempting to mow him down with their lasguns to no avail, these ones falling even quicker than the ones before.

**...  
** **Nuceria - 000.M31 - Desh’ea - Palace district  
...**

When the Remembrancers would draw picts and write about the fall of Desh’ea, none would mention or remember the screams.

None would remember the World Eaters as they became a raging horde, filled to the brim with anger and fury.

Nor would they mention the systematic slaughter and holocaust of all of Nuceria’s noblemen and women.

Except for one.

For they would instead mention the restraint that they showed.

Mention as to how the World Eaters were culled by the Word Bearers and the Emperor himself in order to stop them from going completely off their chains.

They would write and draw as how the more calmer of the legions, without the nails, would save and usher the now former slaves to safety.

And of how every single legionnaire stopped in his tracks as they finally reached the Palace Praxica.

The Palace itself stood like a massive edifice to a falling and rotting slaving Empire. Looking like an over-artificed bloated corpse, grown so by necessity to match the prestige of its owners, the Thal’kr family.

It’s appearance now matched the Thal’kr’s new status.

Pockmarked from stray bolter shells. Entire sections burned down or missing entirely. Dirty and scuffed from soldiers running carelessly all over its halls even as the Raven and the Night Haunter painted it's very walls with Nucerian High-Rider serving scum blood.

All the Astartes, down to the lowest battle-brother would honour one simple pledge.

None would directly touch the palace. That honour alone belonged to Angron.

Thus instead, they all gathered as they surrounded it. The few remaining guards that were still loyal to the bitter end hulled up inside desperately attempting to kill them with what feeble resources they had left.

The city had not even lasted the better part of an hour.

Even as the ‘great’ Lord Thal’kr hid in his panic room along with a select few nobles and their family. An Astartes stepped forward, setting his vox port’s to max output, he began to speak.

“High-Rider servant dogs of Desh’ea! A ring of adamantium surrounds your rotten city!” His brothers roared alongside him.

“We will slaughter, all who dare to resist the will of the Imperium!” The crowds of gathered Astartes cheered louder even as he slowly looked towards the sky, his armoured eye-lenses looking directly into a lone, floating, maggot’s eye. A sadistic smile spread beneath his helmet, he hoped they wouldn’t surrender since they didn’t deserve it in the first place.

“Abandon your posts! Abandon your pitiful masters! Abandon all hope and surrender!” He positively growled, having to keep the bite of the nails driving him to slaughter over the tiny inkling of mercy. “For if you do not, you shall be nailed to the very Palace you so dearly protect, as we take every single one of your masters and skin them alive!”

As the crowd roared behind Kharn, he allowed his chainaxe to turn off. Pushing back the nails and allowing his rage to simmer as he awaited his gene-father’s arrival.

**…**

How in the feth did everything go so wrong in only an hour!?

Lord Thal’kr wondered where he went wrong, what did he do to piss off the Imperium? He had that feeling deep down inside that whispered at him about revenge for the slave revolt of 915, but again it was eighty-five years ago! Why wait until now!?

So when he was ushered into the panic room along with his nieces, nephews and their children, he had activated his personal set of maggot’s eyes to see what the situation was like outside.

It was pure chaos, pure, plain and simple.

His city, the city he took the time to rebuild, reclaim and finally got back up to snuff after that business in 915 was now being destroyed by those barbarians! All of his work was being undone and he would have to rebuild all over again! He knew he would be able to have another rejuvenation or two, so perhaps he would have enough time to rebuild… again.

They destroyed the arena, they destroyed the city, the markets, the slave auction house everything! They never stopped their destruction, seemingly taking a certain amount of schadenfreude when destroying his hard work. He was a planetary governor for the Emperor's sake! No one should have had the gall to destroy his planet!

What seemed to surprise him the most was how he knew most people wouldn’t have been able to see his person set high up in the air, but these armoured monsters… It almost felt as if they could. More than once, he would see them look up at his eyes like they always knew where he was, where he would be and where he would go next.

It was… disconcerting. They shouldn’t have been able to. He was panicking. That’s all. Just panicking.

He never should have let his anger be provoked all those years ago. He never should have demanded that Angron be nailed all those years ago for not wanting to kill that other gladiator. Ever since he made that decision to egg on the crowds, to agree with him and punish him…

That was only one of many mistakes he made in his life. Just like when he couldn’t bear to stay in the same room as her body- no the body of that healer! He shouldn’t have acted like her death meant nothing to him, he should have looked at the body, known it wasn’t her and kept her there! Then she wouldn’t have died, she never would have gone to Angron, they never would have conspired and they never would have fucking slept together! She would have stayed by his side, he would have kept her and bred her and made sure no one else would have ever touched her.

All of his fucking mistakes were coming back- dammit! They weren’t here for that incident, they weren’t!

But what if they were? He had heard Angron coming closer, had gotten images of that brute. He just knew it was time. He came back to finish what he started. He should have had that monster euthanized when he had the chance!

Then none of this would be happening. None of it.

It was all Angron’s fault. It was all  **fucking** Angron’s fault!

“Mama, I’m scared.” One of the boys cried to his niece, who shushed him.

“I know, darling. I know. Don’t worry, it will all be over soon, I promise.” She assured the boy, causing the Lord to snort at that. He never wanted to bring them in with him, but then they would have sold him out if he didn’t so… He had no choice. “Your uncle will keep us safe, right?” She looked up to him at the end of her sentence, everyone else in the room looking to him for answers.

Ladies in finery sitting on the floor, their children surrounding them in their own finery. Their husbands close, but all were standing as if ready to flee in a moment’s notice. All of them, his brother’s family, all of them looked to him to lead them, keep them safe.

He couldn’t help but imagine her and their children nearby who would be looking to him for guidance as well.

He turned back to his console, switching to his guard’s vox channel, “Captain, what is the situation on the escape tunnels?”

He was met with silence.

He opened the vox channel again, “Captain! I asked you a question! What is the situation-?”

“The tunnels are collapsed, my Lord.” The Captain reported suddenly, making the Lord Thal’kr go silent, his plans rapidly going further and further south. “They seem to have been detonated, my Lord. All eight exits have been found and destroyed.”

His mind raced as he quickly thought of any and all backup plans.

What could he do?  **What could he do!? THINK DAMMIT! THINK!**

Wait!

Did the Emperor himself sanction this assault? He was a planetary governor… it was his right to either appeal to the Emperor directly or one of his representatives!

Quickly he turned on the vox but fell silent as the maggot’s eyes caught something.

One of those armoured brutes was standing with all of his comrades surrounding him.

Surrounding his palace… Weren’t they just in the middle of destroying his precious city only minutes ago!?

Then the monster spoke. Spoke such chilling words that he felt as if his own heart was going to tear itself out and destroy itself.

_...the will of the Imperium… _

This  **was** about Angron. It had to be! Oh no… he had to reach the Emperor! Quickly before-

The feed updated yet again. The warrior was joined by the monster Angron in his brass armour along with… along with… by the gods…

The Emperor himself was with them…

He felt as if time itself had stopped, his heart refused to beat, his breath being caught and his body going cold as everything fell into place around him.

What now? What now… what could he do? How had it come to this…

If they got his hands onto him... By the gods, he had seen Imperial torturemasters at work. Their craft was legendary even here on Nuceria. He had seen and heard of the threats. They wouldn’t simply kill him. They would keep him alive for  _ days _ as he screamed and died so painfully and in such a rictus of agony that death would be akin to mercy…

“Uncle.” One of his nephews asked him, causing him to snap out of his thoughts to see his entire damned family looking at him.

Keeping what little remained of his dignity he cleared his throat and rose from his comfortable chair.

“Of course. Everything shall be fine. Now if you excuse me, I have to use the facilities.” He quickly walked off and shut himself in the relatively small toilet. He would be damned if they wouldn’t go down the same route! Fuck them! If they would suffer, so be it!

But not him…

Opening a small, hidden compartment he took out a tiny vial filled with a clear liquid.

It was the  _ true _ last resort. The final step. One last act of defiance.

Opening it and taking a deep breath he prepared to tip the contents of the vial into his mouth…

“Oh, I don’t think so.” A deep voice suddenly spoke from behind him, causing him to whirl around and see a giant man in black-silver armour emerge from the shadows as if he was one of them.

Reaching down to the holster attached to his hip, the vial now forgotten, he unlatched it before fumbling with the laspistol even as the man advanced slowly, taking his time as he kept slipping on the pistol.

Finally, he got a grip on it and brought it up to point- SNAP!

He let out a scream as all of a sudden a whip enveloped the pistol holding arm before tightening around it and making the bone snap as if it was dry bread.

He made to grab for the arm with his remaining healthy one. Only for gauntlets of adamantium to grab him around his neck and hoist him off of the ground.

“It will not be so easy, Lord Thal’kr.” The man spoke with a deadly edge in his tone. “My brother shall have his revenge, slaving  _ scum. _ ”

How in the feth did he get in here!? His mind was quickly jumping from the pain of his broken limb to the sheer absurdity of how a giant got into the panic room! Surely he would have heard them come in-?

At this point, he could hear the sounds of his family screaming, them begging and the sounds of children crying.

“Wha-what are you doing?” He managed to blurt out even as the monster carried him back into the main room to see all of his family huddled into a corner even as another monster, this one in dark blue armour, adorned with the flayed skin of… oh gods… his Captains…

“Konrad.” The monster holding him spoke, causing him to go bone white from the horror of it.  _ The Night Haunter _ . The monster of monsters… oh no… no… no… “If you would do me the pleasure?” The monster holding him spoke again even as the Night Haunter came closer and shoved a hypodermic in his neck, causing the world to go dark.

**…**

“Slammed shut,” Lorgar spoke, looking around the throne in the destroyed throne room along with an Iron Warrior warsmith. “What should we do?”

“The most practical would be explosives, my lord.” The warsmith answered, analyzing the panic room entrance.

“WE WISH TO KEEP THE OCCUPANTS INTACT.” The Emperor explained causing the warsmith to sigh.

“If you wish it such, my Emperor, then we will either need to cut it open, which will take time and a magnitude of effort. Of course, we can always use brute force. However, getting a land raider into the entrance of this horribly built palace to tow it open without collapsing it would be… difficult.”

Angron meanwhile was stewing in his anger. His lust for slaughter and blood being somewhat sated by the sheer amount of slavers he had killed this very day as he savored every single kill.

“Then what shall we do?” Asked Lorgar, causing Angron’s nails to bite harder.

“Well, how intact do you wish them to be my lords?” The Warsmith asked, getting annoyed even more than usual.

“WHAT OF THE EXTERNAL TUNNELS?”

“Sealed. It would take days to get through even one safely.”

Alright. That did it.

Angron slowly walked past all of them, going directly for the Praxium throne even as everyone in the throne room made way, including the Emperor and the Custodes.

If Angron were to claim Nuceria and be its ruler, so be it.

He reached for it, savoring every single moment. This was the throne he was thrown before as a child. The throne before which he was branded as a slave as the High-Rider bastards smiled down at him. The cruel, cold look of the elder Lord Thal’kr as he sentenced him to his new “life”.

The very same throne from which the commands came of the bastards that killed  _ her… _

Reaching down, everyone expected Angron to turn around and sit on it.

...Only for the Primarch to reach down around it, his fingers digging into the duracrete and adamantium as the nails activated and he let out a roar of pure, undistilled, rage. Slowly, his muscles bulged and strained as his hands dug deeper, going bloody and broken from the effort.

And then… he began to pull. He strained his entire body even as his roar reached its peak, willing his body to push itself beyond its breaking point to dig through and upend the damn throne and its damned roots.

And sure enough… the entire throne gave way.

With a force never before seen, he tore open the throne along with the massive multi-dozen ton weighing panic room door, bending the adamantium locks and breaking the duracrete as he lifted it above his head before throwing it directly at the wall adjacent of him even as his broken and mangled hands already began to heal.

No more waiting, he wanted that piece of shit to  **die.**

The Emperor blinked quite a few times as he watched his son practically mangle his hands just to tear open an entrance to his most hated enemy. Honestly, he shouldn’t have been surprised, especially after what they had seen. “WELL. THAT SETTLES THAT.”

The Iron Warrior warsmith just ran a hand along his helmet, “Fucking… Why do I even bother?”

Angron spat to the side, glaring down into the tunnel that led to the panic room. He could practically smell the fear and distress down there. He took a step forward but was stopped by the lightning clawed hand of Corvus, who took the chance to stop him before the blood began to fly. “Let. Go.”

“No. As soon as you go down there, you will kill them all. Don’t you want that bastard to know and be judged? To have everything out in the open and never let anyone forget?” Corvus spoke up, speaking reason to Angron.

The nails bit into Angron, making his need for bloodshed rise as he focused on the tunnel. He did just want to kill them and be done with it. To finally just feel better about all of this. He didn’t answer Corvus, but his hesitance was answer enough.

“Angron.” Lorgar came closer to his brother and put a hand on his shoulder. “Rest assured, vengeance shall be yours. But you must show that you are better than him, allow him to be sentenced.”

Angron groaned in anger even as Konrad exited the panic room. “He shall be judged. But the question remains, what of the others.”

“OTHERS?” The Emperor asked.

“He has his entire family down there,” Corvus explained. “From what I have learned, none are his descendants. Merely his wider family.”

“Kill them.” Angron spat. “They are just as bad as him.”

“NO.” The Emperor stepped forward, speaking reason to his bloodthirsty son. “THEY TOO MUST BE JUDGED. THEIR FAITH’S CANNOT MIRROR THAT OF THEIR PATRIARCH.”

“And why not?” Angron ground up, getting almost as close as physically possible to his father's face.

“BECAUSE IT WOULD MEAN THAT WE ARE JUDGING AND SENTENCING THEM FOR THE ACTIONS OF THEIR FOREBEARS, OF THEIR LEADER. WE ARE NOT HYPOCRITES ANGRON.” The Emperor spoke without a shred of mercy, looking his son directly into his golden irises, daring him to try and fight it. “THEY SHALL BE GIVEN THE MERCY OF PEACE AND THE FINAL OFFER.”

Angron’s nails attempted to spur him on. To push him over the edge as they had done countless times. But what was left of his logic screamed at him that his father was for once correct… if he sentenced these people… what would make him so different from the High-Riders…?

Gripping his head in one of his hands, he walked away and towards the middle of the throne room. “Fine!” He shouted out, dropping to the floor and turned away from the open tunnel. “Do it!”

The Emperor turned to Constantine and nodded, who in turn motioned towards the rest of the assembled Companions as they all marched down into the panic room and emerged a minute later with the Thal’kr family, Corvus himself carrying the Lord away before Angron could see him.

He so badly wanted to turn around, honour be damned, and rip that worthless sack of shit apart with his teeth! He wanted to splatter him across the walls and floor and keep his skull to crush. But he didn’t move and kept sitting away from them all. Why did they have to be right? The sooner this was over, the sooner everything would be better.

All the while, the family members stood in front of the Emperor and the three Primarchs, all of whom were looking down at them with cold, indistinguishable looks.

All of the family members meanwhile either kept their gazes locked away or were looking around in ever increasing desperation.

“This is your Emperor, slaving scum!” A Custodes reminded them. “You break his edicts and he grants you mercy and you do not even do him the honour of kneeling?”

Slowly, all of the present family members knelt as if they were doing so in front of their families Patriarch, most now shaking in fear, the men staring forward lost in their own thoughts, the women holding their children who cried into their dresses.

“One should know the crimes he is to die for.” Konrad spoke, causing the family to let out shrieks of denial and anger.

“SILENCE.” The Emperor demanded in such a stern voice that they all felt as their mouths slammed shut.

Slowly, the Emperor approached and looked at every single one of them, both physically and psychologically, using his psychic prowess to peer into each of their minds to find if they were still salvageable. What he saw made him despondent, even half of the children were too far gone.

Then he went back to the sides of his sons, his Emperor’s face on full display with a permanent frown and angered gaze that bore deep into their souls.

“I HEREBY DEEM YOU ALL GUILTY OF HIGH-TREASON. BY ACTIONS OF MAIMING AN IMPERIAL OFFICIAL OF HIGH-RANK, AND STATUS OF PRIMARCH, THE CONTINUAL BREAKING OF THE EDICTS OF IMPERIAL COMPLIANCE AND CRIMES AGAINST MANKIND.” He looked them all over, one last time. “AS MERCY YOUR DEATHS SHALL BE SWIFT AND THE LIVES OF YOU, YOU, YOU AND YOU.” The Emperor pointed out three small boys and one girl. The youngest being no older than two standard Terran years and the oldest five. “SHALL BE SPARED. THE MALES SHALL BE GIVEN THE FINAL OFFER, AS PENANCE AND A MERCY FOR THE ACTIONS OF YOUR FAMILY. WHILE THE GIRL SHALL SERVE HER LIFE AS A HERALD OF THE IMPERIAL TRUTH, SPREADING THE WORD OF THE LEX IMPERIALIS, EVEN THOUGH HER FAMILY HAS FORSAKEN IT.”

Immediately they began again to beg and plead for their lives even as the Custodes stepped forward and took away the children. Some went willingly, others had to be torn away from their mother’s arms, wailing for them all the way.

As the Custodes stepped away, multiple marines and Custodes leveled their bolters towards the family.

“FIRE.” The Emperor ordered calmly as they were mowed down on the spot, dying instantly. Just like with Terra, he had to stand back and watch as the unsalvageable had to be culled. He wondered how she would have reacted to this? It was for the best that she did not witness it and instead continued to be safe...

He said nothing else, barely even registering the sprawled bodies of the family. The men, women, and children who were too far gone, boys and girls that were ready to start growing to adulthood. Wasted lives, all because they happened to be born on a planet in a family that corrupted them.

How much farther would the Great Enemy go to corrupt humanity?

The girl was led away, but the boys were kept in the room and brought to him. The youngest was crying while the other two were barely holding back tears, confusion going rampant in their minds.

“What-what now?” One managed to stutter out even as Constantin stepped forward.

“Now, you pay homage, and join my brotherhood.” He slowly ushered them away to prepare them for the long and dangerous process even as the Primarchs all walked to Angron’s side, the Emperor offering him a hand that Angron reluctantly took as he rose to his feet.

“IT IS TIME.” The Emperor spoke simply as they all turned to look at the half-broken throne in the far distance of the destroyed room.

**...**

He awoke with a groan feeling… strange.

“Finally.” A deep baritone voice spoke as he was forced to look up by a cold, armoured, hand even as what felt like another hypodermic was shoved into his neck without much care followed by a beeping noise.

“Systems clear. He’s fine.” Another voice spoke as he came to fully.

He was in his throne room… or what remained off it. The banners showing triumph over the other city-states over the centuries of his family’s rule were gone. The intricate paintings of battles and victories were smashed and burned and blood was everywhere...

All of a sudden he was gripped underneath both arms by an armoured warrior on each side and dragged off, his legs dragging through broken furniture and decorations as they dragged him outside.

It was still night… or judging from the temperature, close to dawn, maybe an hour away from it?

But while it was night, it didn’t look like it.

Flares lit up the night sky even as everything around him burned.

Everything was in complete and utter ruin.

The two marines dragged him through the city, showing the mass amounts of warriors as they were destroying everything and anything they got their hands on. He saw the bodies of countless guards, all slaughtered in various ways lying on the streets with countless buildings either destroyed, leveled, half-standing or that were currently on fire.

Then they passed by the great arena. His proudest work, his  _ life's _ work in fact after that monster Angron had destroyed it during his rebellion. But he had rebuilt it. Grander and three times bigger.

Only he did not get to use it… the opening was scheduled tomorrow...

Multiple warriors were standing a fair distance away from it. Some higher ranking ones, judging from the amount of ornaments they carried on their armour were directing…  _ something _ .

Suddenly, a shadow of glistening lights passed by them and he looked up to see a monstrous ship. A ship that was so large it would dwarf all of Desh’ea in just one part of it. How could he even think about going against the Imperium if a single ship was that big? Was he a fool to keep to tradition? To want to hold onto what he knew? He must be if this is what he was given after all this time.

The warriors surrounding the arena suddenly stepped back as he felt his hairs stand as a bolt of red light slammed directly into the arena, setting fire to what felt like the very air.

He looked away from the pressure but was forced forward all the while by the two armoured warriors as they continued to drag him through the ruins of his work.

By the time he looked back… the arena was gone. Leveled completely as if it wasn’t there in the first place. Eighty-five years of work undone in seconds… what chances did he have to stand against such raw strength…

Then they came to what should have been the main slave market but instead… it was changed.

All around him were hundreds and hundreds of those Space Marines, all of them in different colors of different legions. The largest group were the white and blue ones with the symbol of- Shit.

The symbol of the Eaters of Cities, that rebel group from eighty-five years ago… Of course. Of course, a legion led by fucking Angron would have that same symbol. Of course, this was all revenge for all that time ago, for that terrible business.

He could feel the palpable hatred being thrown his way from all of the collective glares of the marines. They were silent except for the frequent muted clicks coming from their helmets, the unhelmeted ones were happy to show their full displeasure towards him. Beyond the sea of the kneeling marines, he could see even more standing in the back, the walls unseen with instead multiple more marines. Like he was on a raft on a great ocean with no land in sight and the waves were threatening to swallow him up.

He dared not look any farther, their hatred for him was enough to make him look away and shiver in pure fear. Fear that which he had never before felt in his life, not even when those giants ambushed him in the panic room. It was all around him, no way out, no way to be saved, nowhere to go. His home was destroyed, his planet razed, his plans destroyed, his life was ruined.

And he knew they weren’t satisfied with that. They wanted more, just like he would if he were in their shoes, he supposed. They really were like him...

But unlike him… they had a trial prepared.

The two warriors dragged him forward to a raised platform and shackled him to it. Both hands shackled by steel manacles as the chains they were attached to were pulled into the stage, making him kneel in his precious clothes.

Suddenly, the sea of warriors parted, showing the Emperor along with… Angron.

He was staring at him. Staring in such visible hatred and fury that he flinched and looked away.

Only to be smacked not a second after to the cheers of the crowd and forced to look at the stage. The very stage where they sold slaves not long ago. It reminded him of the day he had unknowingly stood there with her, the same spot he knelt was the same where he stood.

“ORDER.” The Emperor demanded as he stood, showing the fact that Angron was sitting on what remained of the Praxium throne, the armrest ripped away so that his massive body could fit on it.

“BEFORE YOU, THE PATRIARCH OF THE THAL’KR FAMILY. PLANETARY GOVERNOR OF NUCERIA. RULER OF THE NUCERIANS. SLAVE MONGER. WHAT WOULD YOU HAVE OF HIM?” The Emperor asked, turning to Angron, who stared unflinchingly at his former master with all due hate.

With a nod, the Palatine Aquila was brought forward by a golden armoured warrior and lowered in front of the former lord’s mouth.

This was it. The last chance he had for any mercy. For any hastening of his death.

The humiliation he felt was almost unbearable.

Almost…

He allowed his mouth to touch the golden Aquilla even as all around him the crowd roared if it was pleased or baying for blood, he didn’t really know.

There. He had done it. He had the Emperor’s forgiveness. Heh… surprisingly easy.

“ORDER.” The Emperor ordered again as he looked towards the former lord. “AS IS LAW. HE HAS BOWED TO COMPLIANCE, AND THUS, HE HAS MY FORGIVENESS.”

The former lord felt as he smirked, at least something was going to plan.

“BUT NOT YET THAT OF MY SONS.”

He felt the smile instantly drop as he looked up towards Angron. He was smiling now as if he had just won the greatest battle…

“IN HIS EYES. AND AS A WITNESS. YOU STAND GUILTY OF THE CRIME OF MAIMING AN IMPERIAL OFFICIAL OF HIGH-RANK, AND STATUS OF PRIMARCH. ALONG WITH THE CRIME OF CAUSING GRIEVOUS HARM TO A NOBLE OF HIGH IMPERIAL STANDING.” The Emperor announced to the roaring crowd. “THE SENTENCE, UNLESS HEREBY FORGIVEN BY SAID PRIMARCH, IS DEATH.”

He looked around in panic even as a warrior brought forth the banner of the World Eaters and began to lower it in front of his mouth. What noble did he…? But…  _ Mercy- _ ?

Mercy? Here? Now!? That- no! He needed to take it!

As soon as he saw the banner in front of his eyes he attempted to lean forward and kiss it- only to feel as he slumped forward against his shackles.

He looked up in a panic to see Angron holding up a hand.

No! No! No!

Then, Angron leaned forward and spoke a single word, with all of the malicious intent he could muster into a single, gleeful word.

“Death.”

He felt himself shake in fear and panic as the Emperor once more took center stage.

“THE SENTENCE HAS BEEN CARRIED. AS THE EMPEROR OF THE IMPERIUM, I HEREBY STRIP YOU OF ANY AND ALL TITLES.” The two warriors from before came to him and began to tear off all of his clothes. “OF ALL HOLDINGS. OF ALL RIGHTS AND DECLARE YOU EXCOMMUNICATE TRAETORIS.”

The crowd cheered yet again as the Emperor turned towards his son. “THE SENTENCE OF EXACT DEATH SHALL BE PASSED BY THE VICTIM.”

Then he walked off, simple as that even as Angron leaned back and uttered a single word.

“Konrad.”

The sea of warriors parted as a…  _ monster _ came into view. The  _ Night Haunter _ … no… no by the gods… did they have no mercy!?

Konrad stopped at Angron’s side. All the while Angron was smiling like a deranged lunatic, the bloodlust from merely watching it all enough to keep the nails completely at bay.

“Your sentence, brother?” Konrad asked with a pleased grin, more than happy to be the executioner for a good cause.

“He did not heel, nor even beg for forgiveness by kissing the banner of my legion.” Angron’s voice was uniquely soft… “Fair sons of my legion… WHAT ARE WE TO DO?” He asked in a raised tone even as a sadistic smile spread on his face and the former lord paled in horror as his own words from so long ago were thrown right back into his own face.

“BRAND HIM! BRAND HIM! BRAND HIM!” Came the cries from the World Eaters… but then, they changed. “SKIN HIM! SKIN HIM! SKIN HIM!”

Angron raised a massive hand and the cheers stopped. “So be it.”

Konrad began walking towards him even as the cheers started up once more even as multiple warriors came to the platform, armoured in the same style as the Night Haunter.

He felt as multiple hypodermics were shoved into his body even as the Night Haunter stood before him and branded a pink looking liquid that… no…

“I believe that you are familiar with this particular stimm.” The Night Haunter hummed as it was shoved down his throat.

Then the brand was brought forward. A brand with his own mark…

He screamed as it was pressed onto his skin.

He screamed worse when Konrad’s knife began to etch into his skin.

He screamed himself into almost deafness as he began to peel…

He thought he would faint, but anytime he came even remotely close, a stimm was shoved either down his throat or into his body via a hypodermic.

And it went on and on for an entire  _ hour. _

And just as the dawn broke, the last bit of skin was removed, Angron approached him and almost gently grabbed his head in both hands. He was delirious from all of the pain he went through, looking up at the man that ruined everything for him. The same boy that was thrown to his father’s feet, the same boy he bet on in the arenas, the same boy who would be dubbed as Angron Thal’kr, the same man who would become a favorite of his. The very same man who nearly destroyed his world eighty-five years ago, the same man who came back to destroy it all again, the same man that embodied all of his own mistakes… The same man who took his love from him and killed her.

“. _..you… killed her… _ ” He gasped out loud, just loud enough for Angron to hear.

Slowly, Angron leaned in, almost so close that their faces were touching. “I loved her. And she gave me a  _ son _ .” He saw as the former lord's eyes went wide in recognition. ...even in the end, he lost one more time to this very same man.

Then he squeezed. And squeezed and  _ squeezed _ until his head was simply crushed even as the first rays of sunlight hit Angron’s back.


	12. Extras 5 - In which the room gets extremely awkward and some words are said

His hands were still red. Looking down at them, he saw they were still red. Stained with parts of the bastard’s brain still clinging onto the larger digits. Long after the body was dragged off, he remained. There, in the middle of the slave market, unmoving with his eyes locked onto his hands.

Even as the sounds of the surrounding trial bled away, he could imagine hearing the sounds of the slave market coming back alive around him. He could imagine everything around him blooming with unheard sounds and unseen images of the world he used to know. Around him, he knew deep down that the planet would be heavily censored, or people would die and he would continue to stand there.

His hands are still red...

Even as the blood dripped down his hands and fell to the ground below, he kept watching them. It had all been over with just one motion, one action, and now? Having long dropped to his knees, he was still kneeling here with his hands red and waiting for it. Waiting for that moment, that one thing to spring up and suddenly make all of this alright.

The monster was dead, gone forever, he killed him himself. He crushed his head with his own two hands, killing not just the body, but the soul as well. With a mere sentence, he killed him twice over- that should fix it. That should have fixed all of it.

He was watching his hands, unblinking and silent. Another drop or two down onto the ever-hungry dry floor, but nothing else. Where was it? Where was the rush of euphoria? The long-awaited feeling of catharsis. The well-earned respite...

He killed the monster that ruined his life, that kept him shackled under the earth, hurt the woman he loved, manipulated him, manipulated everyone- he was dead... What more? What more was he supposed to do?

Why did he not feel better? Why was his final victory, his well-earned glory denied to him!?

His first motion in hours was him closing his hands into fists and watching the last of the blood of the bastard drip down to the ground. Swirling around him was a mixture of the sounds of a lively market, the jeering of an auctioneer, and the sounds of power armored steps. All of it coming together with but real and unreal images as Angron attempted to comprehend why everything wasn’t better.

A couple of drops fell onto his clenched hands, washing away the blood that still stained his clenched fists. A few more fell as his vision blurred. Only the single word of “Why” was screaming in his mind as he silently stood there, watching his tears wash away the gore on his fists.

“Why?” He ground out, just watching. It was done. He had gotten his revenge. Fulfilled his duty. Finished what was started eighty-five years ago. What more did he have to do!?

He heard power armoured footsteps, coming closer to him.

He cared not for who it was, or the fact that this was his greatest moment of weakness in almost a century. That right now, he was not the Red Angel, that he wasn’t the king of all Nucerian Gladiators. Nor even a Primarch…

He was simply Angron.

A hand clasped his shoulder. Gentle and caring despite two layers of ceramite separating him from any actual skin.

“Brother.” A voice called out to him even as the sounds of the lively market faded away to be replaced by the sound of howling winds and the images of people all around him replaced by nothing but emptiness.

“It’s alright now, Angron.” The voice behind him spoke in a soothing tone. “He is dead.”

Slowly, his head rose to see that his former master's body was gone. Disposed of who knew where. He looked down again at the sand and gore still clinging to his fists. A common sight since his very first memories. Since even before the nails. Since-

Water.

A stream of water poured down from behind him onto his hands, cleaning them and washing away the muck.

It felt… elating. It was like liquid forgiveness. As if someone had washed away the bad thoughts despite the constant biting of the butcher's nails. It wasn’t enough to stop the question of “Why”...

“Come brother.” Two arms beneath his own raised him to his feet. “Let us be gone from this place.”

Slowly he turned to see Lorgar. Standing there with a calm face.

Not having neither the will nor the energy to resist, he allowed himself to be steered away. Walking as his brother kept a hand on his armoured shoulder. The planet was too much for him, too many terrible memories. And he didn’t feel happy about any of it, only nothingness.

The stars called to him yet again. And somewhere up there, in the cold vacuum of space, were his sons. Loyal and determined.

And to top it all of… he had  _ him _ .

A permanent reminder from her, a piece of her that would always be with him.

And deep down, despite the bite of the nails, despite not knowing what to do he knew he had to watch over his one and only true son. She would have hated him otherwise...

**…**

Horus Lupercal was standing atop the cliff which overlooked the city that they had finished taking mere hours ago. He breathed in the fresh, cold, morning air. The sun had just risen and revealed the full effect of the devastation that elements of three legions with their individual Primarchs commanding them had.

They had slaughtered them. Swept away easier than beginner level training servitors.

“Quite the sight.” A deep voice spoke behind him and Horus turned to see Lion walking to him. His own armour recently washed off the blood from the assault that unlike Horus, he had partaken in.

“Indeed.” Horus breathed. “Did you so happen to see Mortarion?”

“I am here.” A voice filtered by a vox and corrupted by unhealthy lungs came from the left, causing both brothers to look and see as Mortarion himself approached. “No challenge in this.” He began. “Didn’t even suffer any casualties. Had to clear them out one by one, however.” He stated as he joined the two.

“There was no honour in this…  _ battle _ , I agree.” The Lion nodded regally. “However, there was a certain amount of satisfaction.” His gaze then fell upon the lines of future Dark Angels. As of now still mere boys marching to the landing grounds in the distance. “And worthy recruits.”

“Their skin is thick and their minds reinforced by countless horrors.” Mortarion nodded as well. “Fine recruits, ones whose past shall keep them going long.”

Horus nodded along with this, “This does not make the situation any better than before. My mind wanders back to the how and why we’re here, all because of the vids. If we had not watched them, for how much longer would this have persisted? How long would this world know relative peace under our flag while continuing their debaucherous ways?”

The Lion sighed, shrugging slightly. “For quite a time, they would eventually have been attacked with wanton abandon by Angron and the World Eaters in due time. All during the heresy, of course.” Lion eyed Horus who stiffened at the mention.

“Do not even jest about that.” Horus sighed, not bothering to continue with that thought. “Their due would come, we can rest assured of that, the only question would be the eventual cost.”

“True.” The Lion conceded before taking a breath. “The Governor is dead. Said to have breathed his last under Konrad’s tender ministrations upon dawn.”

Horus continued looking forward. “I heard.”

“What now?” Mortarion rumbled. “Gather the people and prepare them for re-settling on another planet?”

The Warmaster turned to his brother. “Exactly that. Although should these people feel like it, they may join the Imperial Army. Perhaps even become servants. I can imagine not many of them have families they can return to, so why not have the possibility of seeing the galaxy? There are always spots for capable hands aboard the ships or in other spots in the fleet or the crusade at large.”

The Lion chuckled. “I see that one of your own has already gotten himself a servant.” He pointed at the distance.

Horus could see with his superior sight that one of his men, Tarik in particular, was carrying a child with him in his arms. Even with his helmet on, Horus could see his son was careful and gentle in his manner. The boy was asleep in his arms, legs dangling past the arm that held him close. A welcome sight if he was being honest. There was an artistic and poetic beauty of a marine of over a hundred years of battles carrying a child from the ruins of a destroyed society, promising the stars above for them.

“Aye, so he has.” Horus chuckled in return. “He always was the soft one. Appears particularly attached…”

“Indeed.” Mortarion piped up. “Why is the child not with the others?”

“I can sense trouble already.” Horus sighed, going to gently rub his temples even as a serf came running from behind before quickly kneeling.

“My lord.” The serf bowed his head. “The Emperor has sent word of his coming.”

Horus turned and dismissed the serf with a wave of his hand, sending him away even as his brothers came to his side and they all began walking back to the forward command post.

“Father is coming. And without Angron or Lorgar.” The Lion pointed out.

“Indeed,” Horus mumbled. “I believe it is time to gather-” They all stopped upon seeing what lay in front of them. Or rather, far  **far** ahead of them.

“By the throne…” Horus grumbled. “I forgot about them.”

This caused the Lion to smile and Mortarion to let out huff. “For what it’s worth brother. I sympathize.” Mortarion claimed causing Horus to mutter something under his breath, causing Mortarion to smile beneath his respirator.

“They will understand… hopefully.” He marched off, leaving his two brothers behind.

Well. Understand as well as someone with as much pride as Princeps Turnet could…

**...**

Leman Russ sat on a container of heavy ammunition, wiping away the blood on the handle of his massive sword all the while taking a swig of ale now and then as Sanguinius strode up to him, his wings folded behind him and a slight smile upon his angelic face.

“Three hundred-fifty seven.” The Angel confidently stated, causing Leman’s eyebrows to raise even as he nodded.

“Impressive,” Leman admitted. “Not bad. Not a bad amount of heads for a pretty boy like yer’ self.” He then smirked up at his brother, before quickly taking another gulp of his ale, causing his smirk to turn to a full-on toothy smile. “I myself am sittin’ pretty on three hundred-sixty two.”

Sanguinius rolled his eyes, causing his brother to let out a laugh even as they heard the distant sound of jetbikes rolling across the plains near the almost empty forward command post. The trains of the last refugees had finally left, leaving a nice empty space for the White Scars and Jaghatai to ride in un-obscured. Kicking up dust as they came to a stop in front of the two Primarchs and their own escorts.

Jaghatai turned off then swung off of his jetbike. Bigger than the already formidable sized basic model one and leaned back into the rest.

“Father has summoned us to the gathering site.” He stated bluntly.

“Good.” Leman barked. “Time to finally get off of this bloody rock.”

“What of the citizenry?” Sanguinius asked.

“They will be taken care of. Our Roboute is already working through the logistical side of moving that many people at once. I heard him cursing.” Jaghatai assured Sanguinius even as Leman stood up, drinking the rest of his ale even as he looked at the Khan with a small grin forming on his face.

“Say, brother. Did yer’ so happen’ to count how many yer’ managed to kill?”

The Khan looked at Leman with an uninterested look, appearing bored as he did so. “I stopped counting after one thousand.”

This caused Leman to choke on the last of his ale even as Sanguinius began to chuckle.

“I know it is a rather low number. But there were only so many on the plains. Besides, they were too easy to kill, easier than hunting rabbits back on Chogoris. I am positive even my youngest children could kill them with rusted spoons and still have time to bring back dinner.” Jaghatai shrugged, ignoring the looks on his brothers’ faces.

Sanguinius looked over Jaghatai, “Wait, you have children? How long has this been the case?”

“Around sixty years now.”

Leman let out a bark of a laugh, “oh hells, ye actually aren’t pullin’ ahre leg? How many of the brats do ye have?”

Another shrug, “Not really. After hearing about Angron and Ragio, I began to wonder what was the point of hiding them? Last I checked, I stopped counting how many I have and how many could potentially be my children.”

Sanguinius rubbed at his face, letting out a sigh. “Jaghatai, honestly… How many are you sure are yours? Father will want to know of this immediately, you do know this?”

Lounging on his jet bike, the Khan did not look very moved at all. “I am positive my firstborn are mine. I am unsure of the rest and have little reason to see if they are. I still will be nice to them, but there will be little else I will do for them.”

“What do you mean you are unsure?”

Jaghatai shrugged. “My firstborn aren’t baseline. They are better, faster and much more deadly than a regular baseline could ever be. The others… they appear normal. Many of my wives are the wives of former chieftains that I took out of my respect for them. Many of my  _ children _ are most likely simple baselines because they belong to my wives’ former husbands. I am not like Magnus and his roaming brood of xeno wives.”

Leman spat out his ale, now throwing away the tankard, tired of choking on the alcoholic liquid before looking over Jaghatai with a horrified and disgusted look on his face. “Come again!?”

“What?” Jaghatai looked at Leman with a raised eyebrow. “I said that my firstborn-”

“Ney! That part, about the nerd’s brood of wives! What the wolfin' hell was that?”

Jaghatai cocked his head. “Are you going senile in your old wolf years brother?”

“Brother.” Sanguinius spoke up with a stern look on his angelic features, “I heard it too. Do not play around and please answer the question.”

“I am sure you did brother.” Jaghatai smiled, before quickly getting back onto his bike in full. “And I am certain that not even father knows about it.” He then waved at the two as the jetbike started up again with a massive whine of its engines. “See you two at the gathering point.” He then revved the throttle, going flying along with his escort, leaving his two gaping brothers in quite literally his dust.

Leman let out a growl as he wiped the dust from his face and growing beard, “ah’m shocked ah actually thought he’d answer. Well, this means ah get to punch Magnus.”

“Leman no. You cannot go and punch Magnus because he has a brood of wives, that will just make Father question you about punching Magnus.” Sanguinius wiped the dust from his face, pulling strands of his hair from his mouth with a grimace. “Which means you knew about something and didn’t tell Father. Do you really want to do that?”

“Argh… no.” Leman looked back to where Jaghatai was a second ago, “...bloody Khan tricked us.”

“Yes, yes he did.”

“Well, there’s only one thing ah can do at this moment.” Leman then activated his implant. “Damned if ah do, damned if ah don’t so might as well.” A second passed then Leman broke into a huge grin as he connected with his Father. “Father! Ah have great news I just heard!”

Sanguinius immediately slapped a hand over his face, knowing that Leman had just fallen for Jaghatai’s trick in full and attempting to stop it before it happened. He was too late. Now they were going to have to deal with this…  _ fantastic. _

“WHAT IS IT LEMAN?” He could hear the sound of their Father’s voice from the open channel- really?

“Leman did you open the  _ emergency  _ channel just to tell Father this?” Sanguinius quickly donned his own helmet and opened his own link to listen in. “This channel is used for emergencies, Leman!”

“Yes, it is.” The voice of Roboute Guilliman cut into the conversation. His disappointment was palpable through the vox link. “So it better be good.”

“Or else I’m coming over and beating you until you resemble a cripple canid than a Primarch!” Horus cut in as well, the grumblings of Mortarion and Lion behind him.

“Oi! It is-... Okay, it’s not an emergency I just had something to tell Father and got a bit excited-”

“I am already packing Worldbreaker.” Horus jested, even as a sigh escaped the Warmaster. He himself knowing what to expect of his brother's antics.

“Leman do you not know how to read or listen?” Magnus cut into the now overcrowded vox call, “I’m quite sure that having an open emergency only vox channel that is connected to every single person in high-command means that you only use it for life-threatening events! Or worse!”

“OI! I don’ have to take lip from a xeno fuckin’ book lovin’ nerd! I know about them!”

“What is going on in this channel? I can hear it being broadcasted even though my helmet was off.” Corvus cut in, his voice quite clearly annoyed.

“MY SONS. CALM DOWN THIS INSTANT. LEMAN, I AM SURE THAT WHATEVER IT IS YOU HAVE CAN WAIT THE SMALL AMOUNT OF TIME IT WILL TAKE YOU TO GET TO THE GATHERING AREA WHERE WE CAN SPEAK CLEARLY AND IN PERSON.”

“But xeno wives-!”

“I CARE NOT LEMAN. YOU HAVE BREACHED EVERY SINGLE PROTOCOL, IT CAN WAIT AND IF YOU DO NOT STOP THIS INSTANT I WILL HAVE YOU DISCIPLINED. YOU ARE ALREADY MAKING YOUR BROTHERS TASKS HARDER, NO NEED TO FURTHER THEIR BURDENS.”

A click showed that the Emperor had finished broadcasting and had turned off the channel, and the only thing that Leman now heard was the tapping of Sanguinius’ armoured foot.

“Idiot.”

“...maybe ah got ah little too excited.”

Sanguinius muttered something under his breath even as he walked off, shaking his head at his brother's mischief. Fallen for the bait like an over-eager wolf indeed...

**…**

The Emperor sighed as he clicked off of the vox. Slowly looking back at his twin sons. “CONTINUE.” He waved his hand even as the two smiled wider.

“As we were saying, Father.” One of the two began. “It was quite simple. We snuck in, killed them all, and simply took it.” The other then extended an arm and in it, he held a full and intact STC.

The Emperor smiled gently, knowing that he would never get a straight answer from either. It was his fault, he had made them like that on purpose after all. Perhaps she could get them to speak differently but well… it didn’t matter, at least for now, it was all paying off.

Carefully he took the STC into his hands, looking it over with a precise gaze. It was undamaged luckily, as intact as the day it was made more or less in fact. He thumbed over a rune embedded onto the side and a hololithic display was suddenly visible to all three present demi-gods.

“GOOD.” The Emperor spoke even as his eyes ran over the complex looking series of neural connectors and stimulators. He always did wonder what kind of STC he would find in the galaxy that was still intact. Perhaps an STC of something useful, like a medical breakthrough, or perhaps something more practical like a new craft. But alas, the first time he found such a nearly complete STC, it would be something as terrible and horrible as this. All of the potential of humanity, and this is what survived.

It would still be difficult. Even with this to guide his hands. There was still countless research to do. So many possibilities to rule out, so many things still needed before he could even begin… He would need dedicated experts to study this abomination, learn the ins outs and all effects before even touching the next step. He would also need to get Arkhan Land of course… Though now his mind did go back to a very particular student of medicine… If he were to guide him in just the right way, then perhaps Ragio could be invaluable to this project…

Later, perhaps. The boy's mind was malleable, yet potent. He needed time.

“Father?” He heard the voice of Horus coming from behind him even as he quickly gave the STC back to Alpharius with a look to hide it before turning around, greeting his son with a nod and walking to his side.

He needed to keep it secret for now. Everything couldn’t come out of what he was planning, else everything he had done thus far could be in danger of failing completely.

He contemplated on what to do as he walked with Horus to the set up pre-fabricated building at the main command post, ignoring the many sets of working hands around him as the planet was prepared to be evacuated.

Instead, he walked into the building, revealing a sparse interior with functioning chairs that were more akin to thrones, all-around a simple plasteel table.

He took his seat at the head as was appropriate and waved off Constantin, the Custodes presence more than overkill. He did not need him for a simple sit down with his sons and to plan their next move. Horus meanwhile, took a seat to his right and not long after all of the other Primarchs began to arrive, each taking their own seat. Roboute, Dorn, and Perturabo arriving together from orbit.

It did not escape the Emperor’s attention that Leman was too busy glaring at Magnus, who glared back. And here he thought that the seven weeks of therapy had made them less eager to kill each other. Looking at Corvus and Konrad, they made the air between them more akin to an ice storm on Fenris than space between them. Now, they could stand being next to each other and even work together, as brothers…

How he wished that he had done something about it sooner but well… what was done was done.

“MY SONS.” He began to speak. “IT IS OVER. NUCERIA IS OURS.”

There were two who were absent from this gathering, Lorgar, and Angron. The Emperor knew having Angron with them on Nuceria was a less than ideal situation, therefore, he was happy to have Angron destress away from them, especially after hearing about what happened at the end of the trial.

The rest of the Primarchs who were yet unnamed made their appearance, sat together and awaited the Emperor’s word.

“NOW ALL THAT IS LEFT TO DO IS TO RE-DISTRIBUTE THE POPULACE AND TALK OF OUR OTHER GOALS.”

Horus cleared his throat. “By talking of other goals, you mean returning to the crusade?”

“NO.” The Emperor spoke to the absolute and utter shock of the other Primarchs. Some swore they could hear the fragile sanity of many legionnaires threaten to break at the mere idea of another few weeks of nothing.

“No?” Roboute asked in bemusement.

“NO. THERE ARE OTHER GOALS NOW THAT TAKE PRECEDENCE. OTHER… FACTORS TO TAKE INTO ACCOUNT.”

Roboute sighed but went with it. “Then of resettling the populace. As discussed they shall be spread across the Imperium organizations such as the Army or serving elsewhere in the fleet.” He cleared his throat even as he activated a portable hololith. “The mass bulk of them, however, shall be granted the colonization of planet 4673 on the northern edges of Segmentum Ultima, near the borders of Sol. Hospitable, relatively warm climate with mild winters. The only issue being that the forests are quite full of predators and beasts of the… manhunting variety.”

Jaghatai chuckled. “A fine hunt they made. Half an eagle of Chogoris and the other half a fierce predator with clawed paws. Agile enough to jump. Killed all the previous colonists.”

“Most likely because we were not aware of their true capabilities.” Roboute clarified. “Behind some walls and with some light weaponry, the citizens will be completely safe. I also calculate that the presence of some threat would be good for them in the long run, a planet of peace will do little for the growth of what will soon be a proud people.”

“And the World Eaters will finally have a homeworld,” Magnus added in, thinking about the possibilities.

“One not of mere barbarity and cruelty. But of honour. I expect it will be much like Caliban.” The Lion added in.

The Emperor smiled. Hopefully, this would begin the process of changing the XII legion into less…  _ bloodthirsty _ marines. The days of the crusade might be behind them sooner then he had thought. And if that were the case… he needed them to be able to adapt.

“WITH THAT, LION HAS GOTTEN US TO MY NEXT POINT. MAINLY THAT HE SHALL SEND ELEMENTS OF HIS OWN LEGION TO GUIDE AND MENTOR, NOT JUST THE SETTLERS OF THE PLANET BUT ALSO OF THE WORLD EATERS SENT THERE.”

The family looked at the Emperor, shock visible on their faces. The Emperor had not personally intervened in legion politics since-

“I KNOW WHAT IS ON YOUR MINDS MY SONS. BUT REST ASSURED, I DO THIS NOT OUT OF PUNISHMENTS, BUT OF GUIDANCE. THE XII MUST BE RESTRUCTURED. THEIR NATURE AND ACTIONS HAVE MANY TIMES PROVEN TO BE NOT JUST UNSTABLE, BUT OUTRIGHT UNCONTROLLABLE.”

His stern gaze looked all around the table, daring any of his sons to disagree with him even though most slowly nodded their heads.

“I MADE THEM MY ANGELS OF DEATH. THEY ARE NOT THUNDER WARRIORS, THEY ARE ASTARTES. MY SPACE MARINES AND THEY WILL ACT AS SUCH, OR THERE SHALL BE NO SPOT FOR THEM IN THIS IMPERIUM.”

The aftershock of those words stunned all the Primarchs into true stillness and silence. What was causing their Father to act this way?

“THE VIDS HAVE SHOWN ME THAT I HAVE ERRED BY NOT KEEPING A WATCHFUL EYE OVER SOME OF YOUR ACTIONS. WITHOUT THEM, WE WOULD ALL FALL TO INFIGHTING AND SLAUGHTER EACH OTHER WHERE WE STAND. THAT ENDS NOW. I WILL NOT HAVE YOU, NOR YOUR SONS ACTING LIKE MAD DOGS WHO HAVE ESCAPED THEIR LEASH.”

The Emperor breathed, letting the words sink in.

“YOU ARE ALL OF MY BLOOD. AND BY CONTRAST, SO ARE YOUR SONS. EVEN THOUGH THEY ARE BORN ONLY OF YOUR GENE-SEED, THEY ARE YOURS AS IF THEY WERE YOUR OWN TRUE FLESH AND BLOOD. YOU ARE THE GREATEST OF MANKIND. THE SHINING BEACONS OF ITS VERY GOALS AND EDICTS. BUT ABOVE ALL ELSE… YOU ARE STILL HUMAN.”

If the Primarchs were shocked earlier, now they felt as if they had gotten a slap to the face.

“SOME OF YOU HAVE LET YOUR EGO’S CLOUD YOUR MIND. OTHERS HAVE KEPT SECRETS YOU SHOULDN’T HAVE. STILL, OTHERS WENT AGAINST MY ORDERS WHEN I SPECIFICALLY ORDERED YOU NOT TO. AND WHILE I TAKE PART OF MY BLAME, I ALSO DO NOT FULLY HOIST IT UPON YOU. FOR YOU ARE STILL HUMAN. AND YOU SHALL NEVER FORGET THAT.”

Horus looked away, he knew it was his duty to look out for his brothers all the while there was his own secret he had been hiding… Magnus, Fulgrim, and Jaghatai all had to come to terms with their own secrets, and if it was possible to, just get it out and over with. The Lion stayed silent, his conscience in doubt, but his mind holding firm.

“ANY QUESTIONS?”

Silence was the Emperor’s only answer. The Primarchs were all deep in their own thoughts, each thinking of their own duties and mistakes. All-knowing that there were ways they could improve.

“THEN YOU ARE DISMISSED. I SHALL SEE YOU ABOARD THE BUCEPHALUS AT THE AGREED UPON TIME.”

For as long as he could remember, Magnus had always had a strong relationship with his father. Back when he was still just a budding soul in the labs of Luna, trying to communicate with the other two psyker brothers there and even staying in contact with the Emperor after he was thrown through the warp. He had always had a strong bond with his Father, so…

He couldn’t take it anymore. He had to speak to him and admit his secret. Perhaps if he offered himself up first, then that meant Fulgrim and Jaghatai could more easily be accepted as well? It was a risk he was willing to take.

As the family began to filter out from the command post, Magnus quickly signaled his Father and linked with him.

_ “Father.” _

_ “YES, WHAT IS IT, MAGNUS?” _

He paused, taking a deep breath and just figuring that saying it would be best. Like an old bandage, just rip it off at once.  _ “I admit it. I have been keeping something from you and I want to…” _

_ “ADMIT THAT YOU HAVE A FAMILY?” _

Magnus sputtered, then growled to himself. Of course, Leman. Leman did call him a xeno fucker on the emergency channel, so perhaps.  _ “Yes, I have a family and I am married-” _

_ “THAT YOU HAVE MULTIPLE WIVES?” _

_ “Okay yes, multiple wives! It wasn’t my choice, they just kept giving them to me and they wouldn’t take no for an answer-” _

_ “THAT YOU HAVE HALF-BREED CHILDREN?” _

_ “Yes, they are half-breeds. Ten with seven girls and three boys. I admit that I may have gotten a little carried away with my experiments and to… prove that it is possible to live in peace with the Eldar. I know that many of my brothers would think otherwise, and after watching these vids for all this time, I believe that they may have a better chance to have… softened up to the idea…” _

_ “I ADMIT. IF DID NOT KNOW THIS WEEKS AGO I MIGHT DISAGREE, STILL DO IN FACT WITH SOME TECHNICALITIES. HOWEVER, YOU FORGET ONCE CRUCIAL DETAIL.” _

_ “And what is that?” _

_ “I AM YOUR FATHER. I AM NOT BLIND TO YOUR PLIGHT. MERELY WORRIED THAT YOU THINK THAT I DO NOT CARE.” _

Magnus paused, slightly embarrassed at the accusation. But well…  _ “I admit it. I did start to think you didn’t care. But after all this time together, I just feel that I can trust you with this. I only want what is best for them and-” _

_ “DO NOT WORRY OF THEM. I SHALL MAKE SURE CALDERA IS SAFE UNDER MY PERSONAL JURISDICTION. NOTHING SHALL HARM THEM. THEY ARE YOUR FAMILY, AND BY CONSEQUENCE, MINE AS WELL. DO NOT THINK ME AS A PURE PRAGMATIST MAGNUS, MY HUMANITY YET REMAINS.” _

Deep down, Magnus knew there must be a lie in there somewhere. But at the moment, he was more concerned that his Father had managed to narrow this down to a single  **planet** . Sometimes his Father’s powers still managed to… terrify him.  _ “How did you narrow it down so quickly?” _

He could see his Father smirk in good nature.  _ “SOME THINGS ARE BEST KEPT SECRET. AND YOUR MIND MIGHT NOT BE AS TIGHTLY GUARDED AS YOU THINK.” _

_ “No, wait, hold on, really. How did you figure this out?” _

_ “I SIMPLY HAD THE CUSTODES LOOK INTO THE GUIDANCE COGITATORS OF YOUR GLORIANA.” _

Magnus was glad he was sitting down since he didn’t have to embarrass himself by falling to a throne and slamming his face into the table. How did he forget to clear the history of his Gloriana’s database!?

_ “THERE, THERE SON. WE ALL ONCE MAY HAVE MADE THE MISTAKE OF NOT PROPERLY COVERING OUR TRACKS. YOU MAY WISH TO ASK MALCADOR THE NEXT TIME YOU SEE HIM ABOUT THAT, BUT NOW, WE ARRIVE AT A DILEMMA.” _

Magnus sighed,  _ “And that is?” _

_ “HOW WILL YOU TELL THIS TO YOUR BROTHERS? LEMAN ALREADY KNOWS ESSENTIALLY, AND THUS, IT WILL NOT STAY SECRET FOR LONG.” _

Ah. That was a tricky question… However…  _ “Father, I know Leman knows, that’s why he decided to go off on the emergency channel and annoy everyone. I know that Leman is practically bursting to shout it to everyone, and the longer I take to explain, the worse it will be. How about this? I do it the same way Roboute did…. Essentially. I find a vid and we watch it and I explain as it goes, and so on.” _

_ “A FAIR POINT. AND AN ACCEPTABLE ONE. THOUGH YOU MUST PROMISE ME TWO THINGS SOMETHING.” _

_ “That being?” _

_ “DO NOT THINK THE VID REALITY. IT IS EASY TO FORGET THAT WHAT OCCURS ON IT IS NOW A SEPARATE TIMELINE FROM OUR OWN. JUST AS ROBOUTE HAS ‘FORGIVEN’ LORGAR FOR BURNING DOWN HALF OF ULTRAMAR. AND I HAVE ‘FORGIVEN’ HORUS FOR HIS HERESY AND SO ON AND SO FORTH, YOU MUST BE CAPABLE OF DOING THE SAME. _

_ “Understood Father. I know I can be better than that, especially since I have found a vid that is actually closer to our time and would show them at a fairly accurate age.” _

_ “DO NOT TEMPT FATE SON. IT IS A CRUEL MISTRESS AND ONE WHICH QUICKLY STABS YOU IN THE BACK. NONE SAW HORUS’ FALL COMING BEFORE THE VIDS.” _

_ “That is true…. However, you spoke of two things, what was the other?” _

_ “I GET TO MEET MY GRANDCHILDREN.” _

_ “...roight. Yes, you can meet them. You can be the first to meet my eldest, especially since he’s rebelling against me right now. He is incredibly like-” _

As the Emperor smiled, continuing to listen, the two walked off towards the transports which would lead them back to the Bucephalus. Everyone around them thinking that perhaps the rumours of the Emperor being a bad father being just slightly exaggerated.

**...  
000.M31 - The Bucephalus, Above Nuceria  
** **...**

Too bad they weren’t able to watch a vid, since practically everyone had been so wound up for the burning of Nuceria that now that it was done, everyone was exhausted. No one had the energy nor the want to sit around and watch a vid, so the Primarchs decided to rest for a day and reconvene the next morning. Especially since everyone wanted to give Angron time to destress and figure out what was next on their plan.

Burning Nuceria clearly wasn’t a part of the original plan, nor the future that had been set rather abruptly in front of them. Currently, they were now on a completely new path and that required time to figure out their new strategy and what was next for them all. Not to mention the disgust that most still felt from what they saw on Nuceria, a short break would be in order, if nothing else, they would all benefit from some sleep.

That was exactly what they did, reconvening on the Bucephalus early the next morning after rest, food and a re-energization for vid viewing. The Emperor counted his sons and realized that Angron and Lorgar were missing from the collected Primarchs. He did not mind. Angron needed time away from everyone and Lorgar was still the only one he would let near him… If it meant good results in the long run, He would give his son all the time he needed.

Nearby, the collected brothers were all returning to the viewing room in much more relaxed and casual clothing. After all, it was fine to be more casual when surrounded by legions of space marines over a soon to be dead planet with the Custodes and the Emperor himself within arms reach. The only one dead set on not relaxing a single bit was Konrad, who was still in full armour.

Corvus gave Konrad a once over, “really? Do you have to sit there in full armour like a giant aggravated bat?”

“Yes.” Konrad sneered, ignoring the little Raven. “If all of you want to sit around in your skivvies, so be it. I’m keeping my armour on.”

Nearby, Leman was already on his third tankard of ale and in a bad mood. He had tried to get into contact with anyone and spread his discovery, but all had shut him out and told him to go to bed. Roboute had quite colorfully told him in twelve different ways to go and frak himself since he did not know how difficult it was to organize the logistics of planning an invasion with eighteen legion assets in the mix along with the pride of a Titan Legio coming along and wrecking all of it, the Custodes, getting them to work together, then evacuating the planet and resettling an entire planet’s worth of people and keeping them all fed and watered.

Leman thought he was just being a right arse. Even worse, Roboute was now sitting as far away from him as possible! That was just plain rude.

It definitely did not have anything to do with the fact that Roboute was still in the middle of drinking his morning recaff along with eating a light breakfast and wanting to do so as far away as possible from his furry brother. Nor, did it have to do with Roboute having his head buried in his dataslate and trying to get work done while waiting for whatever vid was going to be played.

Leman felt Sanguinius lean against him, “I see you’re still annoying everyone? Can’t you please give it a rest?”

“Wot tae hell ahm ah doin’ wrong!?” Leman shouted Sanguinius back, angry that no one was taking him seriously!

Sanguinius sat back with a frown on his perfect face, staring Leman down with half-lidded eyes. He loved his furry, cheering ball of a brother, but sometimes he just did things that made him want to throw him from a Gloriana and to enter Terra’s atmosphere with just a loin cloth for protection against the elements.

Before anything else could be said, Magnus stood and cleared his throat to get his family’s attention. Standing before them in his white and red toga, he took a deep breath and prepared himself for what was going to happen. “Brothers. Father. I’m pleased to see that everyone has had time to recover from… Nuceria.” He held back a shiver, and continued, “After father’s words down on that planet, I came to the realization that it was in both my best interest and the interest of the other party as well.”

Nearby, Jaghatai nodded and urged him on. He knew that this was it, and that the secret was going to be out. He only wondered how badly certain members were going to take it. Fulgrim, nearby, glanced from Magnus to the Emperor. The questioning look on his face conveying more than just doubt, but a myriad of other emotions at that. Magnus nodded to the both of them, before continuing on again.

“After watching these vids of the future and the development of the children of the future, spurred on by Father’s words, I thought it was wise to tell-”

“Yer have a xeno family you fuckin’ xenophile!” Leman cut in, taking a deep swig of ale.

The Khan rolled his eyes. “And here we see that Leman has trouble keeping something other than his head in his trousers.”

“Oi! Yer were the one ta-”

“ **_THANK YOU LEMAN,_ ** for that very astute and needed addition to my speech!” Magnus practically growled at the Wolf King, already seeing that a good amount of brothers were already getting ready to denounce everything right there. In his anger, Magnus puffed up slightly, before grinding out the rest of his speech, “ **_as I was saying_ ** \- Yes. I admit it… I have a family of my own and they happen to be with… the Aeldari-”

Suddenly, Magnus ducked as a throwing knife missed his head by mere millimeters. He whirled around to see Corvus idly flipping a knife through his fingers.

“Hey! What’s the big idea Corvus!?”

Corvus shrugged. “Had to try, but it's not me you should dodge.”

“Then wha-” His psychic sense screamed at him as an energy blast went past him, searing the adamantine wall and exploding harmlessly. Magnus quickly looked to see a scowling Mortarion, holding out  _ Lantern _ , glaring into his brother's soul.

“Alright…” He then slowly breathed. “Are you all  _ done!? _ ” He looked around the room full of mostly unhappy brothers. “I’d rather not have a reenactment of the Theatre of Pompey after all. I admit that I expected this and might deserve some anger but-”

“They are done.” Roboute of all people piped up. “Hypocrisy is unbecoming of them- Vulkan are you alright?”

Nearby Vulkan was holding onto his throne with such strength that he had bent the adamantine hand rests, squeezing the metal as if it was molding clay. “I am fine, brothers.” He said in his typical, happy voice. “I shall accept this, if it makes Magnus happy, then I am  _ happy _ .” The hand rests of the throne then snapped clean off.

Ferrus looked Vulkan over, he was less than thrilled at this news, in fact, he was disgusted but… Vulkan did have the right idea.

Magnus sighed, “I had hoped we could get through this together and with a lack of physical attacks… But I suppose I thought a bit too highly of you all. Nonetheless, today’s vid is about that. I am hoping that watching this together we can get over some of this anger and  **perhaps** all of you can come to accept them. Hate me all you like, but please… My children have done nothing wrong, and I am hoping all of you will give them a chance.”

Silence was his only answer, with perhaps some muttering. If the Emperor himself had cleared it… then it’s not as if they had a choice to begin with. Everyone turned to the Emperor, who sat back in his throne.

“AND THAT’S EXACTLY WHAT WE’RE GOING TO DO. MAGNUS, PLEASE HAND THE MAGOS THE VID YOU HAVE PREPARED SO THAT WE CAN START THIS OFF.”

Magnus nodded, retrieving the vid he hid in his toga and allowing the Magos to set up the vid, took his seat between Perturabo and Jaghatai since anywhere else was too volatile to sit safely. He hoped that their anger and hatred would just… Not fully disappear, but at least be made much more manageable.

**_...  
002.M31 - _ ** **Caldera  
...**

Magnus: “Wait, hold on. It’s supposed to be on Caldera, but that’s the wrong year. It’s supposed to be 999.M30, not 002…”  
Leman: “Wow, yer got the vid wrong. Amazin.”  
Magnus: “Shut up Leman, I’m sure that’s just wrong. I saw this vid, I saw them all, I swear it was right....” *glances to the Emperor, who is just staring at him* “what?”  
Emperor: “REMEMBER. YOU PROMISED.”  
Magnus: “Fffff… fine.”

The vid opened onto a dusty room, the tools that laid about, the sterile walls and floor marking it as an Apothecarium. However, the way things were thrown about in a disheveled mess all with a fine coating of dust covering everything, almost as if untouched for all this time.

And as the power shut off in the Apothecarium, it was only powered by fusion batteries and solar cells. Red light engulfed the room even as the feed got closer and closer to one of the stasis pods on the wall, the rune blinking in green showing it to be in use.

Magnus: “What in the  **_WARP_ ** is going on!? I watched this vid myself twice now, this was not a part of it at all- Father! Please tell me you have some idea on what is going on!?”  
Emperor: “...NO IDEA. MAYBE YOU DID SOMETHING.”  
Magnus: “Wha- how!? I held this vid since-”  
Horus: *Clears throat loudly* “Perhaps you two have forgotten about the fact that this is an  _ alternate timeline _ . One where we can’t possibly hope to foresee everything?”  
Magnus: “Normally you would have a point, but this is different. I watched this vid twice, and nothing like this happened!”  
“Are you seriously-”  
“Trying to understand-”  
“A vid from-”  
“The transdimensional reality box?”  
Magnus: “Look I- uhh, what the absolute fuck?”  
Emperor: “WHAT?”  
Magnus: “I don’t remember  _ that _ symbol on the vid.”

*The family look at the vid inside the holoprojector which now had a four armed cross imprinted upon it. And the cross’ arms were all centered by-*

Roboute: “A human skull, do we know of any future chapter of marines or Imperial Adepta which uses that symbol?”  
Lion: “No. I do believe we do not.”  
Roboute: “Then what is it, and how did it get there?”  
Magnus: “I… how!? I don’t understand! I held that vid in my hands.”  
Emperor: “BOYS. IT IS QUITE CLEARLY OUT OF OUR HANDS. AND THERE IS ONLY ONE WAY WE CAN FIND OUT.” *The Emperor gestured to the screen*  
Magnus: “Right… Magos, unpause please.”

**_...  
023.M31 - _ ** **Caldera  
...**

Ashes from the ground above began to seep in through the cracks left in the duracrete by decay and started to coat the Apothecarium.

Magnus: “Wha-what!?”

**_...  
001.M35 - _ ** **Caldera  
...  
**

Some type of animal skittered across the floor even as more and more decay started taking place.

Magnus: “Now it skipped entire millennia!? What is going on!? What’s happening!?”  
Emperor: “CALM DOWN MAGNUS.”  
Magnus: "Yes- Yes I know! I know I'm supposed to be calm, but this has to do with them- This is wrong! The vid changed and you're just telling me to calm down!?"  
Emperor: "THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT I AM TELLING YOU. CALM DOWN."  
Magnus: *scoffs*

**_...  
190.M42 - _ ** **Caldera  
...  
** ****

Magnus: “Wait…  _ M42 _ .” *Magnus stood out of his throne*  _ “M…  _ **_42…_ ** _ ”  
_ Horus: “I… don’t like where this is going.”  
Sanguinius: “Neither do I, the vids have never skipped this much.”

The feed suddenly shifted to that of multiple Space Marines in red, white and black livery walking through what appeared to now be Caldera. Or rather, what was left of it.

Magnus: “WHAT THE FUCK-!?”  
Emperor: “MAGNUS YOU PROMISED-”  
Magnus: “I promised to not confuse reality and the future, I know! But this is beyond that! What happened to my planet!?”  
Rogal: “Isn’t Prospero your planet-”  
Magnus: “Caldera is as well! I carefully cultivated that planet with all of my available resources, rebuilt their society and have been carefully raising them back up through my years of work! And it was  **fucking** destroyed and I don’t even know how!?”  
Emperor: “WELL…” *Pauses, then realizes what happened* “...WE CAN STOP IF YOU WANT.”  
Magnus: “What? No! I want to know what happened to my planet and we are going to sit here and watch!”  
Horus: “Do we not get a say in this or…?”  
Magnus: “Fine. Leave. I suppose it was too much to ask for any of you to show any kind of interest or compassion for me after all these weeks, so go ahead and leave if you do not wish to sit here.”  
Sanguinius: “...no need to guilt trip us.”  
Lion: “Attempt to.”  
Sanguinius: “Pardon?”  
Lion: “Attempt to guilt trip us. If Magnus has given the go ahead, I’m leaving.”  
Emperor: “LION, SIT DOWN. JUST CONTINUE THE VID. PLEASE.”  
Corvus: “...like I always say. An atrocity upon family values.”

“Squad one spread left, Alpha pattern.” A command came over the vox even as a squad of Space Marines moved off. “All unassigned units. Forward.” The Marines continued their steady pace of advancing, their Bolters pointed forward as the Astartes constantly scanned for hostiles.

They continued moving in his pattern with minimal chatter until they all suddenly stopped. “Map information indicates target reached commander.” One of the Marines voxed even as what appeared to be a Techmarine stepped forward and knelt on the ground before extending multiple probes and a sensor array.

For a few seconds, the sound of tinkering machinery filled the air before the Techmarine’s vox channel opened. “The information was correct. There is a hidden underground structure… with power still flowing through its veins.”

One of the Marines heads whipped around. “Power? After so much time?”

“Yes.” The Techmarine murmured. “It is weak and slow… but it is present. It has been for… 10,191 years.”

All the Marines immediately began talking and looking at each other in complete and utter shock before who was apparently the commander shut them up and opened a vox link into orbit. “Chapter Master Angelos… there is something here you might want to witness.”

Magnus: “Angelos? Those are  _ his _ Blood Ravens! He must have come out on top after his fight.”  
Roboute: “That doesn’t answer your own question however, what are they doing on your planet?”  
Magnus: “I honestly don’t care, I want to figure out what happened to my family!”

_**…** _

What appeared to be mere moments later, an Overlord gunship dropped into the atmosphere and landed before the Marines who all knelt as the gunships ramp deployed.

Out walked Chapter Master Gabriel Angelos. Wearing Artificer Mk.IV Power Armour. Upon his ascension to becoming Master of the Chapter he had been granted Terminator armour privileges but had decided to instead opt for more… sleeker armour. To say that moving in Tactical dreadnought armour was difficult in a combat environment was an understatement. He didn’t even dare think about dodging shots or Emperor forbid,  **leaping** !

Horus: “...backflipping terminators.”  
Emperor: “CS GOTO DOESN’T EXIST, IT’S OKAY.”  
Horus: “Who?”  
Emperor: “EXACTLY.”

Thank the Emperor that the Apothecaries were able to heal him sufficiently enough in order for him to not have to undergo entombment into a Dreadnought.

As he stepped onto the ashen grounds of Caldera he had all of his brothers rise with a motion from his fingers even as the commander of the force from before approached him. “Chapter Master.” He greeted with all due respect, bowing his head low.

“Sergeant Charon.” Angelos rumbled. “Tell me, what is so important that it requires my personal attendance?”

Charon immediately moved to the side and pointed at a section where the ashes were being removed by the other Blood Ravens. “There sir. An entire underground facility. Warded off and untouched for over ten millennia. According to the techmarine, the signals and marking indicate Great Crusade era Astartes technology.”

Angelos’ eyebrows flew into his hairline at that moment. “Truly? Any markings of what chapt- legion it belonged to?”

Charon slowly swayed his head from side to side. “Not yet Chapter Master, however-”

“I would hold on that, Sergeant Charon.” Another Space Marine Sergeant spoke as he stepped next to the two.

Angelos looked at the Marine who was carrying something underneath his arm, curiosity hidden behind his mask of professionalism.

“Sergeant Phlegyas.” Angelos greeted, causing the Marine, in turn, to bow his head in respect to his Chapter Master. “You found something?”

“Indeed.” The Sergeant responded before throwing down a metal plate.

“What is that?” Charon asked, stepping next to the metal plate and beginning to scrape away the ash which now coated it.

“A relic from a bygone era,” Phlegyas rumbled, his voice thick from the vox-corruption of his helmet. “Of traitors.”

Immediately, Charon halted his hand and slowly looked towards his Chapter Master who, after a moment, slowly nodded. Then, Charon wiped away the rest of the ash, revealing the emblazoned sigil of the Thousand Sons Legion.

Magnus: “FUCK! FUCK-FUCK-FUCK!”  
Leman: “Nerd! Sit down ah caen’t see!”  
Magnus: “FUCK YOU TOO LEMAN!”  
Leman: “Wot!? Wot tae bloody ‘ell did ah do!?”

Charon immediately jumped away, feeling as if he had been stung. “Heresy!” He whispered out between clenched teeth.

“Traitors…” Phlegyas slowly spoke as he attempted to get a better look at the ancient device.

“Peace!” Angelos’ voice immediately thundered. “It is merely a piece of worthless metal.” He commanded. “No indication of traitors being here just yet.”

“Nor should they be, Chapter Master.” The Techmarine from before came by and reported. “I detect no life-signs in the bunker.”

Charon appeared to sag in relief even as Phlegyas looked to be slightly disappointed and spoke up, “Sorry to disappoint, kinsman, but no killing traitors or heretics today.”

Charon’s head whipped around to look at his brother, “Sorry to disappoint? Do you wish to meet a few dozen Rubric Marines again? Don’t you remember the last time?”

Phlegyas’ head tilted to the side as he looked at his brother. “No. Would you be so kind as to remind me.”

Charon sighed, knowing that his twin was toying with him but decided to respond anyway by raising his right hand. “It gave me this.” He flexed the prosthetic hand, causing its servos to whine in protest.

“Ah yes.” Phlegyas rumbled. “You made Techmarine Gerris so happy with sacrificing your arm.”

“Don’t remind me.” Charon sighed yet again, remembering the sight of the far too happy Techmarine.

“While your banter is as amusing as ever,” Angelos spoke up, causing the two Marines to go stiff. “I believe that we have an ancient facility to explore.”

“Of course, Chapter Master.” The two nodded, throwing the playful banter away and ready to continue with the job ahead. There was an untouched facility that is over ten thousand years old below them to be explored. Perhaps some relics and gifts to the Chapter would be in order as well?

Emperor: “RELICS AND GIFTS. OF COURSE. OF COURSE THEY ARE STILL STEALING THINGS.”  
Magnus: “Just… Fine, I’m not even going to fight that one.”

An hour later, they finally managed to cut through the extremely thick doors and pry them away, revealing the stairs leading down into the bunker and quickly formed two squads and began to tactically enter the facility, bolters and pistols pointed down the tunnel.

After a minute or so of steadily advancing and encountering no opposition, they finally reached the main floor.

“An Apothecarium.” Charon deducted from all the surrounding equipment, most of which were subject to heavy rust and general decay. The most surprising part of it all was the growth of underground plants that survived for who knew how long here, crawling all over the equipment and walls. The air was also slightly humid, which perplexed the teams.

The Chapter Master himself carefully looked over everything, his stern gaze not sparring a single detail. His helmet donned for the rare occasion of being able to more easily see in the dark.

But there was one light, one tiny light that was still active after all this time.

“Straight ahead,” He spoke through his voxmitter, causing a squad to immediately form up in front of him and point their weapons towards the light source, only to be waved down immediately by the Techmarine escorting them. “Calm brothers,” He ordered, “Merely an active stasis pod.”

Horus: “That’s the second time that stasis pod was mentioned, it cannot be a coincidence.”  
Magnus: “I… I think someone from my family is in there.”  
Roboute: “It would make sense, seeming as so far these vids have focused on only our offspring.”

Charon thought this odd, the planet had been untouched for over ten millennia, yet the pod was still active. If the planet had been devastated so thoroughly, then shouldn’t everything be dead? The plants surviving, the active power feed, the pod… Everything he read about the planet, the combined might of the Iron Hands, the Death Guard and the Salamanders should have made sure everything was dead. Nothing was making sense…

Magnus: “W...what did he just say...? **THE FUCK DID HE JUST SAY!?”  
** Rogal: “The planet’s current status in the vid appears to be the result of a combined arms assault of three legions-”  
Magnus: “You three- You three killed them. You three killed them, killed them all. They’re… The pod was at 002… Then… Then it happens at...”  
Mortarion: *Sighs* “For the supposed smartest of us, you sure can be idiotic.”  
Vulkan: “I… I killed family?”  
Ferrus: *Looking forward in silence with a calculating look*  
Magnus: “There was the pod at the beginning. And the power going out, and the dust… By the warp… What the hell did I do to make you three do this!? This was supposed to happen very soon! You three were going to kill my family very soon and you’re sitting there-” *charging with pure warp energy*  
Emperor: “ **MAGNUS.** ” *Magnus looked over to see his father looking at him, his stern look managing to send a shiver down his spine. “YOU PROMISED. REMEMBER.”  
Magnus: “This was going to happen in a year or two! If three legions were moving together like this to destroy a single planet, that would have to be an order… What did you do.”  
Horus: “I hate to be devil’s advocate, but in a year or two Lorgar would have undertaken his voyage and become corrupted by chaos itself.”  
Roboute: “Let us not forget that it’s not uncommon for multiple legions to work together as part of an expeditionary fleet. Doubly so under Horus’ command, which this would no doubt at the time be.”  
Magnus: “ **That doesn’t excuse that you three killed, or at the very least your legions killed them in the near future!** ”  
Mortarion: “You are acting like a blubbering fool!” *Mortarion finally appeared to have lost his temper* “In  _ that _ future, we burn Terra! Horus kills father, half of us fall to the warp cancer that is chaos, including you! This hasn’t happened!”  
Magnus: “Oh you think you can take the high road right now, Mortarion!? You have spent these past seven weeks rubbing my face in all of my failures, tried to attack me earlier and have been itching for anything you possibly could to get any type of dig in at me! And just now, you don’t even deny that you would do something like this!”  
Mortarion: “Yes! And I will  _ gladly _ continue to do so, since apparently your high and mighty ego requires checking every now and then! And your smart attitude forgets that this hasn’t happened and never will! You come after me, always forgetting  _ your own  _ flaws! Mainly that unlike a certain someone here, my foster father was a barbaric psychic that made me who I am, your kind ruined that world in the first place!”  
Magnus: “And here we go again! You have never let that go and have been using it to make life hell for anyone like me, my sons, or any psyker because you never will let go of your past! Out of everyone here, you are nothing more than a loathsome, hypocritical monster who can't get over your own daddy issues because you love wallowing in it so much! Let's not even get into how this is my flesh and blood family  **dying on screen** !”  
Mortarion: *Now stands* “And what will you do about it? Your failure in this future is evident. Not only did you break every one of the Emperor’s own edicts. Not only did you fall to chaos, like all of us, showing that in the end, but you were also wrong just like the rest of us! Now you show that you broke the foundation of the Imperium’s very own laws! My own faults have nothing to do with any of this, this is all your fault-”  
Magnus: “Oh!  **My fault** !? This is the reason on why I did most, if not all of my actions! Because of people like you who just want to be mad at the galaxy and take it out on everyone! Yes, I realize now that I did wrong! But you have barely done anything of the sort! Because of people like you, because of nearly everyone in this fucking family- I went to them because for as long as I could remember, I haven’t felt like I was even a part of this family-”  
Emperor: “ **SILENCE!”**

*The psychic echo made everyone stand still as fear seeped into their very souls*

Emperor: **“I HAVE HEARD, ENOUGH. THIS PETTY SQUABBLING, THIS FIGHTING. IF EITHER OF YOU THOUGHT FURTHER THAN MERE PETTY AMBITION, THEN YOU WOULD BOTH REALIZE THAT** **_THIS_ ** **IS EXACTLY WHAT DROVE THIS WEDGE BETWEEN YOU ALL IN THE FIRST PLACE. NONE OF YOU ARE IN THE CORRECT STATE OF MIND. NONE. YOU ALL HAVE REASONS BEHIND YOUR ACTIONS, BUT THAT DOES NOT MAKE THEM RIGHT. AND YET AGAIN YOU HAVE PROVEN TO ME THAT YOU REQUIRE MY ATTENTION.”** *The Emperor pointed at Mortarion* **“YOU WILL STAND DOWN, AS YOU YOURSELF HAVE SAID, THIS NEVER HAPPENS. I WILL SEE TO YOU LATER MORTARION, THERE ARE ISSUES THAT HAVE NEED OF DISCUSSION BETWEEN THE TWO OF US. AND YOU, MAGNUS.”** *The Emperor looked at Magnus, a cold look in his eyes* **“YOU WILL KEEP YOUR WORD TO ME. I UNDERSTAND THAT IT IS DIFFICULT FOR YOU. THAT IT IS PAINFUL. BUT IT IS NONE OF** **_THESE_ ** **BROTHERS OF YOURS FAULT. NONE OF THEM EXIST HERE. AND I WILL NOT HAVE YOU ACTING LIKE A WAILING CHILD THROWING A TEMPER TANTRUM AT INNOCENT PEOPLE.”** *The Emperor breathed once* **“IF NEED BE, WE SHALL STOP WATCHING IMMEDIATELY. BUT IF WE DO GO ON, WE SHALL DO SO WITH NO BLOODSHED IN THIS ROOM. I AM SICK AND TIRED OF HOW DESPICABLE ALL OF YOU ACT. AND I WILL** **_NOT_ SUFFER YOUR EGOS FOR IT ANYMORE.”  
** Magnus: *Slowly backs away and sits back down* “f...f-fine.” *Goes silent and slowly closes off all connections and begins to rub at his eyes*

*The Emperor silently says something to Mortarion*

*He is then knocked out of his stupor by a gentle nudge on his shoulder and looks up to see Leman*

Leman: “Oi, take this. It helps.” *One of Leman’s hands moves forward, revealing a tankard filled to the brim with ale* “Yer’ need one after that bollocking brother. No one needs to drink alone, skjol.” *Leman then clinked his brother's tankard with his own and took a healthy gulp*  
Magnus: *Looks confused, but reluctantly takes a sip, not really having any will to say much else* “...thank you…”

While Charon tried to make sense with the situation, a more psychically attuned brother felt odd when looking towards the source. To the psychically gifted brother, it felt as if whatever was in it was akin to a sanctioned psyker or a warp anomaly. “I’m not sure that’s entirely it.”

“You detect something with your otherworldly look brother?” Gabriel asked, causing the Marine to nod.

“Yes Chapter Master… something powerful. We must continue with care. I would suggest hailing the Librarius, this is far far too ahead of any of my expertise.”

The Chapter Master immediately tuned his vox and called up to the fleet stationed in orbit even as he ordered the Marine with him to place a teleportarium beacon. If whatever was held here had the combination of being able to touch the warp freely while also being affiliated with the Thousand Sons… they had to proceed with the utmost care.

A couple of minutes later in a flash of lightning combined with an acrid scent gave way to the massive form of an Astartes Librarian appearing before all of them in the bunker.

“Chief Librarian Macario.” Angelos greeted the Librarian who also bowed his head.

“You have need of me, Chapter Master?” The Librarian simply intoned, feeling the psionic energies swirling here, almost inviting him to go and learn everything he could of their mysterious past, but duty came first.

“The stasis pod.” Angelos pointed out. “It is occupied by a being or item with significant reach into the warp, even though it is in stasis. Do you believe it safe for removal?”

The Librarian turned and marched over to the rusted pod before slowly leaning his hand against it.

Immediately his mind was assaulted by visions. Images of frolicking Aeldari and human children alike. Eldar and human buildings, lush forests and expansive lakes. And Thousand Sons Space Marines interacting with them…  _ before _ they betrayed the Imperium and damned the Emperor. A world of peace, of compromise...

Mortarion: “I can’t imagine a planet with both xenos and witches alike actually working peacefully. But I suppose if you have a Primarch presiding over it…”  
Magnus: “...”  
Mortarion: “Nothing to say?”  
Emperor: **"DO NOT BAIT YOUR BROTHER."**  
Magnus: *Takes another sip of the ale* “...no.”

Then everything  **_burned_ ** . Salamanders, Death Guard and Iron Hands came here during the Great Crusade, leaving nothing alive. This entire world was dead.

Magnus: *Slowly hangs head in shame and mourning, attempting to force his mind into realizing that this had not happened in this reality*

Except for this one it seemed, the one stocked in the stasis pod.

Deciding to unravel things further, he went back through her memories before diving in. He experienced how she lived, a life long past and a world that was long gone…

“ _ Mandisa! _ ”

Magnus: “Disa?”  
Vulkan: “...is… is that one?”  
Magnus: “Yes- yes. Mandisa is my eldest daughter, she’s… awkward around people, but she’s a good person deep down… I just can’t believe the shyest of all my children would…”

**_...  
999.M30 - _ ** **Caldera  
** **_..._ **

"Mandisa!"

A little girl with bright red skin, a darker shade of red for long wild hair that looked like a nest where birds would start families in and wearing a white Prosperan dress was sitting in a small clearing of flowers, surrounded by tall almost ethereal looking trees of unknown species. There were plenty of strands in the girl’s hair that stuck up or were wildly pointing out of her, making her look like she recently rolled down a hill. She was holding onto a few different blooms, a splash of color against the white she wore, from a deep blue to a bright yellow, a blushing pink and a pale purple. She looked up from where she sat, a single bright red eye was able to poke out from the opening of her hair in the direction of her mother.

Leman: “...you know, ah can see it.”  
Magnus: “What?”  
Leman: “Yer hair gets like tha’ whenever yer get tired or angry. Just like tha’!”  
Magnus: “I-I assure you, my hair does not do that. Disa’s hair is a damned warp anomaly from how out of control that mop can be.”  
Jaghatai: “Therefore, just like you.”  
Magnus: “I- I’m not even going to fight it anymore.”

From how high the feed was compared to the people on screen, it must have been some type of flying drone. If it was either of Imperial make or something else, none could tell.

While the little girl was different shades of red, she looked like her mother in structure, sharing the same sharp features, though the little girl’s face was softer. Her mother had straight black hair that was pinned back from her face and kind looking sharp silver eyes, looking kindly upon her daughter as she knelt by the girl. The woman and girl shared one feature, and it was their long and pointed ears. And of course, her mother had a rounded belly in the later stages of pregnancy.

"Did you find any we can bring home?" The woman asked, smiling as her daughter nodded mutely. "They sure look pretty! I think they would look great on the family table."

Mandisa ducked her head, smiling at her mother's praise. She took a few breaths and began shakily, “D-do you… think dad… w-will like them…?” She spoke softly, uncertain and almost as if she had a hard time forming the words. She looked despondent, whispering to herself about being stupid.

Magnus: *In a quiet whisper while slowly beginning to smile* “I would love them-”  
Jaghatai: *Slowly looks over*  
Magnus: “Fuck. I’m becoming Roboute…”  
Roboute: *Crosses arms* “Point proven.”  
Corvus: “So what’s going on with her spee-”  
Magnus: “Leave it alone. She just has issues and we are working on them.”  
Corvus: *Raises hands* “Simply asking.”

Her mother, however, would have none of that. “Hush, Disa. You spoke very well, and I am proud of you.” The mother quickly kissed the top of her daughter’s head, earning a smile and soft giggles from her daughter. “And yes, your father will love them. Now come along, we need to get back home. I was able to find some more herbs for the feast. Your brothers and sisters are all so excited to see your father come home after all, same with your aunties.”

The two stood up, the mother brushing off any leaves and petals from her own Prosperan dress. The Aeldari woman wore Prosperan styled sandals, but strangely enough, her daughter was fine to be barefoot, despite being in the middle of a lush forest. She held out a basket that she carried, waiting for Mandisa to deposit them in.

“No. Carry.” Mandisa quickly held the flowers close to her chest, a stubborn look on her face. “I… c-can carry…”

Her mother sighed but supported her daughter. “Alright, be careful not to choke them. Isha’s gifts are not to be squandered.”

Emperor: *Can’t resist a sigh*  
Horus: “Old friend of yours father?”  
Emperor: “YOU HAVE NO IDEA.”  
Konrad: “Eldar fetishist.”  
Emperor: *Looks over* “CAPED CRUSADER.”  
Leman: *Sputters into his ale while laughing, wrapping an arm around Magnus who is still quite sullen*  
Magnus: *silent*  
Leman: *is now feeling severely awkward*

“Okay…” The little girl answered, holding the flowers to her chest with one arm, while the other grabbed hold of her much taller, much more graceful mother. Her mother was careful to walk slowly, so her daughter wouldn’t be dragged by her, even if she was eager to get back home as well. She had to help with the preparations and, of course, not rile herself up too much, only months away from bringing her youngest into the world…

“Can you tell me about what you have been reading, Disa?” The mother began as they walked through the forest, passing by both strong tall trees, fallen trees, and followed a natural path that had seen many uses. While they walked, they could work on her eldest’s little… speech problem.

“Ah… I… I-I have been-been… reading… about… r-runes…” It took her a few tries, but she got it out. She wanted to speak more about it, but both couldn’t find the words and didn’t have the energy to speak up. She hated how she just barely started to speak only a year or so ago, despite being seven already… “They-they are kinda… ha-hard? But… like them.”

Mortarion: “The speech problem appears to be psychological in nature.”  
Corvus: “And how do you guess that?”  
Mortarion: “Aeldari, for how incredibly irritating it is, requires the speakers vocal cords to be in perfect sync with their mind in order to even form a basic words, the fact that she can string together a sentence but not speak without thinking about it for a long period beforehand points at either mental degradation or slow development. Again, hybrids are perplexing creatures.”  
Magnus: “...she is highly shy in nature and tends to do things at her own pace. We are working on getting her to be more fluent in speaking, despite her… fluency with mind link speech.”  
Mortarion: “As much as I loathe to say this, it may not be your or even her fault.”  
Magnus: “...fine. What else?”  
Mortarion: “It is simply, as we have seen so far, the effect of Primechildren genes. A Primarch, no matter how much father has planned for it, is  _ not _ meant to breed, especially not with other species. It is most likely a birth defect due to the nature of her two sires.”  
Emperor: “TWO TO TANGO, BOYS. TWO TO TANGO.”  
Konrad: “I am going to pretend I did not just hear that.”  
Magnus: *snorts* "Roight."  
Sanguinius: *slowly sliding down, to escape the extremely tense air of the room*

Her mother nodded along, listening to her daughter speak. “I see. Did you get that from your auntie’s or your father’s library?” They passed by more trees, the foliage getting less dense as she heard nearby friends with their own children and friends. In fact, she could see a few Aeldari women through the intermingling thin and thick trunks, through the thick branches of leaves as they talked amongst themselves foraging. Well, they didn’t need to forage much anymore, ever since her husband came to their aid all those years ago, Caldera was much more peaceful than when it was under the ‘protection’ of Craftworld Ulthwe. She much preferred the laxer and even simpler protection of the Thousand Sons than the uptight, controlling and even snide Craftworlders who couldn’t even come to their aid.

Mandisa nodded, she loved thinking about what she was learning and reading, and was quick to start her explanations through the link she shared with her mother.  _ ‘Oh! Yes, I found it in Papa’s library- he has a better collection than Auntie Jurizza- and I found it after going through some of the shelves he left open for us and- and-’ _

“Disa.” Her mother spoke up sternly, squeezing her daughter’s hand. “Speak, don’t think. I know you have a better time using our link, but you need to speak.”

Mortarion: “Hypothesis proven.”  
Horus: “With how good you are at this, I surprised you aren’t more passionate about pediatrics.”  
Mortarion: “I fracking hate children with a  **passion** comparable to the hatred I feel for my foster father. Good enough for you?”  
Roboute: *Sighs* “I wish you would look beyond that brother.”  
Mortarion: “Easy enough for someone who was raised by a caring family in a  _ perfect  _ world. Just because the cyclops brings it up in an argument, now everyone wants to play therapist?”  
Jaghatai: “This feels like a conversation you and I already had on Ullanor brother. I am sure the same applies to Roboute as it did to me.”  
Ferrus: “...I grew on a planet by myself where I had to fend for myself until I was found by Father. Mortarion, you need to let it go already. It is annoying to keep hearing you complain about it when I don’t complain about my own upbringing.”  
Mortarion: *Huffs* “And it shows. You are tempered, unlike some of our brothers here who stride about like peacocks.”  
Ferrus: “I assume you’ll get over it, then?”  
Mortarion: *Grunts but says nothing else*

Mandisa huffed, her cheeks puffing up as she looked down at the flowers. She hated speaking, it was easier and better to just… think. It was already bad enough all of her little siblings were either talking normally or on their way to speaking normally. Except her. She hated it. “It… Better.”

“I know, darling, but you need to speak properly. I know you can do it, you simply need to practice.” Her mother comforted her, a smile on her angular face. “So you found it in your father’s library?” She continued to prod, hoping to get her daughter to speak more. At this point they could hear the sound of children nearby, running through the thinning trees. They would be back in town soon, and she hoped Mandisa would be calm enough for them to get back home in one piece.

“Mhm. I’ve be-been reading. A lot…” Mandisa ended up mumbling out, ears perking up as she listened to where all of the other Aeldari and humans were. She hoped no one would come over and talk to them.

Perturabo: “Definitely yours.”  
Rogal: *Smacks Perturabo*  
Perturabo: “pfft- WHAT!?”  
Leman: *Begins dickishly laughing*  
Rogal: “You have been given the directive of smacking me in the face for every statement I make that points out the obvious to Father and the rest of our brothers. I thought it only fair for I to do the same to you, in the event that you somehow were to point out the obvious as well.”  
Emperor: *Allows a small smile to grow on his face* “I SHALL ALLOW IT.”  
Perturabo: “But- he- I always…  **fine.** ”

Of course, as luck would have it, someone did come over and talk to them.

One of the Aeldari women waved over her mother, before quickly making her way to them. “Avari! There you are! I wanted your opinion on something about the welcome back feast-”

Avari waved the woman off, “I’d love to stay and chat, but I need to head home. Mandisa and I were off gathering some last-minute things for my hus- life partner.”

“Mandisa?” The woman looked around, then back to Avari, “I don’t see her anywhere?”

“What? Don’t be absurd, she’s-” Avari looked down to where her daughter was only a second ago, then realized that she was now holding air instead of a tiny red hand. “Mandisa?” Then she realized why her legs felt weird, and she let out a breath as she looked back to her friend, “Nevermind, anyway, I must be going. I’m sure whatever it is that you wanted, it will be fine. The Thousand Sons aren’t very picky, you know.”

Horus: “I don’t believe any Space Marine’s palette can be described as ‘picky’.”  
Lion: “Unless your name so happens to be Fulgrim.”  
Fulgrim: “I beg your pardon?”  
Lion: “I distinctly remember you frowning upon every single dish at the banquet I hosted in your name.” *Looks pointedly* “You make for a poor dinner guest brother.”  
Fulgrim: “It’s not my fault that Calibanian cuisine has so little flavour and consists of tender roasted meat and pies while disregarding other vegetables and sides unless it happens to be a  _ potato _ .”  
Lion: “And what of the sweet subtleties and extravagant choices?”  
Fulgrim: “I have seen better subtleties made by a legionnaire on a day off.”  
Leman: “Hey Lion, brother, not that I want to bother yer but would yer mind me joinin’ in one day?”  
Fulgrim: “Scratch that. I’m positive Rosalina could make something better than that, and she’s barely a toddler.”  
Lion: *A small smile* “That is interesting. I would be willing to defend my words with steel. But I do believe you will be too preoccupied to accept the challenge.”  
Fulgrim: “Oh, and why is tha-”  
Emperor: “SON. WHO IS ROSALINA?”  
Fulgrim: “Oh shit… Alright, since Magnus came out with it, might as well. Rosalina is my only daughter, my only child.” *LEERING LOOKS FROM THE MORE XENOPHOBIC OF THE FAMILY* “She is also completely  _ human _ . And is… Currently on Chemos… And she is fine, I check in on her every month through hymnals.”  
“We have dug through the chest.”  
“We see no vid of her.”  
“Until M42”  
Fulgrim: “...oh no...”

The woman shook her head, sighing, “if anything, that’s their most annoying trait… well, I won’t keep you here.” She waved again and went back to where a small gaggle of women were gathered together, each with their own baskets.

Avari waited, then placed a hand on her hip as she let out a soft, “alright, come out, Disa.”

“Okay…” And soon, the small red girl was lifting her mother’s dress and timidly making her way out of her hiding spot.

Avari sighed, “Disa, you know it’s rude to run away from people. Your father, myself or even your aunts can’t always be there to protect you from talking to strangers. Neither your elder brother. What will you do when there is no one else to hide behind?”

Mandisa looked down to the ground, one of her feet toeing at the ground and kicking up some blades of grass and dirt. She didn’t think it would be possible to ever,  **ever** not be around someone she could hide behind. It just… couldn’t happen. “...’m sorry…”

Avari sighed once more, but held a hand out to her daughter, “Come on! We need to get back home! Auntie Laenor is almost done with all of the food, and I know you love her cooking.” She said enticingly to the girl, who brightened up exponentially, making the grass around her bloom with small flowers in her excitement.

“Yes!” She then started to hurry home, her mother in tow for once. “H-hurry!”

“Alright, alright.”

**...  
Fortress of Enlightenment  
** **...**

Emperor: “THE FORTRESS OF  **_ENLIGHTENMENT!”  
_ ** Magnus: “Hey! I-”  
Leman: “THE FORTRESS OF PURE ENLIGHTENING LIGHT!”  
Magnus: “Okay! You-”  
Horus: “So enlightening, he manages to break  **_every_ ** edict.”  
Magnus: “Now that’s just-”  
Rogal: “Brother. A fortress that is meant to enlighten someone makes a poor fortification.”  
Magnus: “Rogal I-”  
Rogal: “Therefore I am sad to say that you have  _ failed _ in its construction as its very foundations are flawed to the core.”  
Magnus: “Wha- Perturabo! Smack him!  _ Please! _ ”  
Perturabo: “I would. If I didn’t think that that was one of the stupidest names you could have come up with.”  
Magnus: “Even you!?”  
Jaghatai: “Not stupid. Merely, arrogant, rash and completely self-centered who also thinks highly of himself.”  
Magnus: “IS THIS EVEN ABOUT THE NAME ANYMORE!?”  
Mortarion: “Totally. Though that has to be one hell of a shit fortress.”  
Magnus: “EVEN YOU!?”  
Mortarion: “You think I ever truly trusted you witch boy?”  
Magnus: “ _ Fair point _ \- but don’t-”  
Emperor: “BULLY YOU MORE THAN YOU ALREADY ARE, STOP IT BOYS, THAT’S ENOUGH.”  
Magnus: *Smacks his throne* “Thank you!”  
Emperor: “THOUGH THAT IS AN EXTREMELY STUPID, IF VERY APPROPRIATE NAME. I AM SENSING COPIOUS AMOUNTS OF PENT UP FRUSTRATION MAGNUS. YOU SERIOUSLY NEED TO ACQUIRE A BETTER TASTE IN NAMES.”  
Magnus:  _ “I wonder why I’m pent up with anger and frustration!?” _

The footage changed suddenly, still in a floating and higher vantage point so that they could see more of the surroundings than the people they were following.

The secondary monastery of the Thousand Sons was a pure marvel to witness, the mixture of Human and Aeldari building techniques made the fortress have a much more sleek and clean look compared to the more gothic inspired architecture in the Imperium as a whole. The mixture of both ferrocrete, plasteel and wraith bone gave the fortress a much more unique aesthetic and seemed to still be in construction.

More walls and expansions for the fortress were currently being added, with what looked to be both bone singers and Thousand Sons serfs and even librarians adding onto the building effort. From their vantage point, they could see a female bone singer who was reluctantly sharing the process with the nearby librarian, who was looking as if he was learning the dearest of secret knowledge even as a dozen nearby epistolaries were taking notes in secret.

Perturabo and Rogal: *Slowly look over to Magnus*  
Magnus: *Sighs* “No. I promised I wouldn’t spread that around. Those notes are very valuable and-”  
Perturabo and Rogal: *Still staring*  
Magnus: “-I’m not sharing them!”  
Emperor: *Stares at Magnus*  
Magnus: “I’m not sharing and that’s final!”  
Emperor: "MAGNUS, YOU ARE A MEMBER OF THIS FAMILY-"  
Magnus: "Don't. Don't even try that."  
Perturabo and Rogal: *Both now feel the heavy, awkward air*

Strangely, with all of the construction still going on, the Thousand Sons heraldry was missing.

“Do you think it's starting to look like home?” Avari asked Mandisa, who shrugged. "I think it is. It's starting to look like your father actually lives here now." She chuckled before her ears pricked up, causing her to straighten up. "Hold on…" She paused as she listened carefully, blocking out the sounds of construction and focusing more on the inside of the fortress itself.

Mandisa attempted to listen as well but didn't have the same sensitivity her mother had. That and her ears still had a hard time pricking up on command. Her parents both said that they would eventually not be so floppy anymore in time...

She suddenly tensed and frowned, squeezing Mandisa's hand. " **_Tyrion_ ** !"

Emperor: “REALLY?”  
Magnus: “What’s wrong with the name, Tyrion?”  
Emperor: “I ONCE MORE STATE ABOUT YOUR ABILITY OF NAMING THINGS AS I DID BEFORE.”  
Magnus: “Wha-what!?”  
Emperor: “YOU HAVE NO IDEA THE AMOUNT OF REFERENCES YOU HAVE MADE WITH THAT NAME ALONE. NOW ALL THAT IS LEFT IS THAT HE HAS A BROTHER NAMED JAIME OR TECLIS.”  
Magnus: “...” *Looks away*

Her mother began to March forward, worrying Mandisa. What did her big brother do  _ this _ time? She quickly followed her mother, hoping that nothing bad was happening when their dad was so close to coming home…

She hoped that Tyrion wouldn't argue with their dad again…

As soon as they were inside and in the living quarters, did she realize that Tyrion was going to be the one to make her mother angry.

Tyrion, her older brother, was standing over a fallen reliquary that managed to be opened and was attempting to fix what he did. It looked like he knocked it over with a powerful psychic strike and charred most of the golden-colored parts of the armor that spewed out- she just realized that that was one of their father's armours...

_ Oooh… Tyrion was going to be in so much trouble… _ Mandisa was able to shake herself from her mother's grasp, stepping back to watch.

"Tyrion! What did you do!?" Her mother demanded, hands-on-hips and looking as if she was ready to bend him over her knee.

Tyrion, the same red skin, red hair and eyes like Mandisa, wearing a Prosperan tunic and looked so much like Magnus in this moment that if you ignored the ears and two eyes it was hard to tell the difference between them. He looked scandalized and pointed his hands to the fallen armour, "I didn't do it, Auntie! Teclis did!"

Emperor: “STILL GOT IT.”  
Magnus: “I don’t see anything wrong with those names and- TYRION! Do you have to destroy things around the house all the time or are you just content with being a ball of issues and destruction!?”  
Roboute: “You’re getting worse. An entire lecture this time.”  
Magnus: “I am not lecturing the vid, I am merely expressing frustration that my son happens to do things like this all the time. I still shudder about what happened to Snuffles number 3.”  
Horus: “Of course you are brother. And I am not the Warmaster.”  
Magnus: “ _ Silence _ .”  
Vulkan: “It is Snuffles with you is it? I am glad to see our family share something.”  
Magnus: I didn’t name the gyrinx, Disa did.”

Even Mandisa didn't believe him.

"Oh? So your baby brother was the one who knocked over, broke into a reliquary, and charred your father's armour?" She asked, raising a brow at this.

"Wha- Yes! Teclis is the one who did it! I was trying to fix it!" He insisted, bouncing in place as he got more worked up. He kept shoving his hands in the direction of the fallen armour, as if trying to enunciate his point. "I'm telling you! Teclis is using psychic powers-!"

Avari raised a hand, stopping Tyrion in his tracks. "Tyrion. Teclis isn't even half a cycle old. By human standards, he's just a toddler. Do you really expect me to believe that?"

"But it's true!" Tyrion scowled, "I'm telling the truth-"

"Oh, like how you told the truth about when you decided to use your father's books as a makeshift ramp?"

Magnus: “You did  **_what_ ** young man!?”  
Leman: “Good job.”  
Magnus: “Do not. Encourage. Him.”

"Well, no-"

"Or how about the time you decided that it was a wonderful idea to paste your brother Korhil to the wall with handmade glue?"

Corvus: “Handmade? Child must have some appreciation of alchemy.”  
Magnus: “Corvus, making glue isn’t that hard to do… I just want to know why I didn’t know he pasted his brother to the wall?”  
Corvus: “Boys being boys? Making enough glue and making it powerful enough to make a child stick to the wall is however.”  
Leman: “I like this kid!”  
Vulkan: “So do I, a wonderful little delinquent he is!”  
Magnus: “Oh yes. A wonderful delinquent. Like the time he called me a one eyed nerd and said my magic was stupid and that warriors are much cooler.”  
Konrad: “Are you sure that Leman hasn’t been near your wives?”  
Magnus: “Hush.”  
Konrad: “So that is a no?”  
Magnus: “I know for a fact that Leman has never met them. Since before this, he hated me.”  
Leman: “...h-hey now, I never hated you…”

"He-he dared me to!"

“Or how about when you almost set the great forest on fire?”

“Look, I didn’t know I could summon fire like that- I was just playing with a can of promethium…”

Sanguinius: “Where did he get that!?”  
Magnus: “Why were you  _ playing with a  _ **_can of promethium in the forest!?_ ** ”  
Vulkan: “From what I know, setting promethium on fire is a very hard thing to do, much less for a child.”  
Magnus: “Why wasn’t I told about all of this? I always ask for full reports on what the children have been up to, so why am I now hearing about even more things Tyrion has done in the house!?”  
Jaghatai: “There is an old saying on Chogoris. And while I am no Zadyin Arga, I recall the advice well enough, ‘There is nothing a woman will defend more from others wrath than her child.’”  
Magnus: “I… I suppose, but I would have liked to know how badly my little hellion has been getting…”

“No more excuses!” Avari clapped her hands together with a sharp clap, causing both children to flinch at the harsh sound. “I will see about this getting cleaned up, Tyrion you are going to sit at the table and write lines until dinner. After, you are going to do the dishes and then straight to bed!”

Tyrion squawked at this, “but that’s not fair! I didn’t do it-!”

“March!” Mandisa’s mother pointed towards the dining hall, leaving Tyrion bewildered then despondent as he dragged himself away to the dining hall. He let out grumbles and whines about stupid brothers and how he hated writing lines.

Mandisa felt slightly bad for her big brother, then remembered what happened to her gyrinx kitten Snuffles number nine and the day he lost all of his fur to the putty incident. She never forgave him for that. Snuffles the ninth was on the ceiling for three days!

Magnus: “Nine!?”  
Leman: “What is it with this bloody family and treatin’ pets poorly?”  
Vulkan: “Little Noodles…”

That wasn’t too bad compared to when her little sister Ruby decided to try out an experiment and accidentally sent Snuffles number four to the stratosphere. They found him at least… stuck onto the side of a Thousand Sons Battle Barge. At least he didn’t suffer.

Perturabo: “How in the feth did a little girl send a fucking gyrinx into the stratosphere!?”  
Magnus: “I… I don’t know… I don’t know how she did it, I didn’t even know Snuffles number 4 died like that!”

She shrugged, following her big brother to the dining area with her flowers, she had to get them into some water before they wilted.

Placing the newly vased flowers on the table, before gently pushing it to the middle, she could already see her brother writing his lines. His ears were folded back, reminding her of Snuffles number two when he got angry. She wondered when her ears would finally stop flopping and prick up like his and her mother and her aunts.

“This is so unfair!” Tyrion spoke up, glaring at her with a scowl on his face. “I didn’t do it!”

Not feeling confident speaking, she linked with him and was able to fully speak her mind.  _ ‘Not my fault if you keep acting like an unhinged maniac. You put putty over Snuffles the ninth and had him on the ceiling for three days! Or when you hid my mom’s soul stone and we found it in a cookie jar! Or when you turned your mom’s hair blue?’  _ She shot back at him, pouting at him and reminding him of everything else he had done.

Leman: “Hold on, I got ta ask… Ah noticed it earlier, but everyone was focused on Snuffles the ninth. But yer kids just said they have two mums, so… What’s goin’ on there?”  
Magnus: “Okay. I didn’t mean for it to happen, just that it did. I found the planet of Caldera and saved them from an Ork Waaagh, their Craftworld didn’t respond and they saw me as their saviour. They just so happened to like how I run things and decided to… defect is a strong word but…”  
Leman: “Aye, aye, but get to the part where they have two mums.”  
Magnus: “Okay fine. The Calderan Exodites really seemed to appreciate my culture and my way of working, so they… adopted it… And misunderstood something that Prosperans do… and well… you see… that’s how I got... six wives…”  
Emperor: “SIX.”  
Magnus: “Father, you have no room to lecture me right now-”  
Emperor: “ONE IS MORE THAN ENOUGH. BELIEVE ME THERE SON.”  
Magnus: “I-”  
Jaghatai: “I agree with father.”  
Magnus: “I- I didn’t want to be rude and send them away- They were really excited and-”  
Horus: “Wanted their share at the piloting stick?”  
Magnus: *Covers face*  
Leman: *Laughing hard and loud, slapping his knee*

Tyrion scowled, “That was all jokes and for fun! I didn’t touch dad’s armour! Teclis did!”

_ ‘Sure!’ _ She rolled her eyes. _ ‘And then he scarred the entire reliquary.’ _

Tyrion grumbled before quickly standing and yelling in her direction, a tear in his eye. “If you won’t believe me then go hide in your mom’s skirt and leave me alone!”

She defiantly looked at him.  _ ‘You’re lying.’ _

“I’m- I’m not!” He shouted. “I’m not!”

_ ‘Yes you are! You always are, just like you lied about Snuffles!’ _

“That wasn’t me!”

Jaghatai: “When a child denies something for so long, they are on the edge of breaking down, then you know they aren’t lying.”  
Magnus: “I know that feeling. Now that I think about it, how many times have I done that to Tyrion…?” *Sighs and buries face in hands* “No wonder he hates me…”  
Emperor: “ALL CHILDREN ‘HATE’ THEIR PARENT TO A CERTAIN DEGREE BUT TYPICALLY COME TO DISREGARD THAT AFTER THEY BECOME ADULTS. IT IS A PART OF RAISING A CHILD.”  
Magnus: “He’s just so vitriolic… He only barely started doing this and it’s already enough to frustrate me.”  
Roboute: “Children tend to test their parent’s limits. Or at least, so I have heard and read.”  
Konrad: “I’m still shocked that the Father of the Millenium gave good advice.”

_ ‘Sure…’ _

“I… I…” He stammered. “I… I  _ hate you! _ ”

Mandisa was shocked, then hardened her gaze,  _ ‘well- well I hate you too!’ _

“What are you two doing now?” Spoke up a new voice, a female Aeldari with short brown hair and wearing a much more conservative dress entered the dining area. “Tyrion, do not use such language with your sister! And Mandisa, you know you aren’t supposed to mind link in the house!” She stepped between the two, cutting off their angered eye contact.

Tyrion sat back down, ducking his head and focusing on his page, “Yes mom…”

Mandisa scowled and looked away, “Y-yes auntie…”

Tyrion’s mother sighed, looking back to the kitchen area, “Avari! Your daughter is fighting with my son again.”

A loud sigh, “Do I need to come in and separate them?”

“No, you just sit down. I’ll separate them and hopefully, they won’t still be fighting when he comes back.”

Avari let out a relieved sigh, “Thank you, Lilina.” She was about to speak again when the sound of power armor began to get closer. The gathered family members craned to get a look on who it was coming in and what news they no doubtedly were carrying.

Mandisa hid behind one of the larger chairs, she knew her brothers and was trying to get used to being around them… but… but they were just so scary…

A marine of the Thousand Sons had entered the dining area, helmeted and unknown. He tilted his head to the children, where Mandisa squeaked out a hello and Tyrion sulked over his lines. The marine turned back to the mothers, “I have news about my Primarch.”

“What is it? Has he been delayed?” Avari asked, attempting to get up, but was pushed back down by Lilina.

“The Primarch was called to attend the crusade for Ullanor. Urgent matters with the growing Ork menace. He will not be able to arrive on Caldera anytime soon.”

“The Orkz?” Lilina questioned, straightening up looking more like a warrior. “What has happened?”

The two quickly began exchanging news, what had been happening on Ullanor and how multiple Primarchs and legions were needed for the fight against the ork empire. All the while, Mandisa followed their exchange, turning from side to side as she imagined the worst.

Fulgrim: “Leaving the ones we love behind is always the hardest thing to do.”  
Magnus: “I remember this. I couldn’t go back and see them, I had to head straight to Ullanor, cancelled everything. I just thought that it was fine, I had come back before.”  
Roboute: “Nikea would be soon after this. You would never make it back…”  
Magnus: *Pauses, then looks up* “Nikea would lead me to having Custodes with me at all times… I would have been on thin ice at that point, anything would have set off Father at that point…”  
Jaghatai: “You would never risk breaking more of Father’s edicts.”  
Magnus: “And then seeing how Caldera is…  **attacked…** ”  
Emperor: “IT SHALL NOT HAPPEN HERE. WE ALL KNOW HOW AND WHY NIKEA WENT AS IT DID.”  
Mortarion: *Grumbling* “And I ended up paying for it along with Magnus.”  
Horus: “And let us not forget that it was  _ my _ corrupted future self that made it so Jaghatai could not attend and balance the argument. You are not at fault here brothers. Nor is Father. He had no choice but to enact the agreed upon laws.”  
Magnus: *Rubbing his eyes* “I see the need for restraint now. I truly do… I simply wish I would have changed quicker… The worst realization is that if nothing had changed, the future says that I never would have been able to see them again.”  
“Not.”  
“Exactly.”

The Librarian withdrew before taking a deep breath and turning to all of his brothers, “It is a girl. Not Human nor Aeldari.” The scene before him reverted back to the dusty old Apothecarium many millennia later.

“Then what is she?” Angelos asked. “A null?”

“No Chapter Master.” The Librarian looked worried then. “A hybrid.”

Magnus: “One of the children lived!?”  
Mortarion: “Appears so.”

Phlegyas immediately stepped up. “How is such a thing even possible? A union between two species resulting in this- this-”

“ _ Heresy _ .” Charon finished for him. “Not only is it not possible. But to even suggest such a thing exists brings a foul taste to my mouth.”

Librarian Macario stood up straighter and pointed to the stasis pod, “Well look upon this with your eyes, brothers. Come and see the thing you claim to not be possible. I shall wait.”

Roboute: “I am beginning to take a liking to this librarian.”  
Horus: “I like his sense of humor.”  
Rogal: “I too, appreciate it.”  
Konrad: “That has to be the most unsurprising thing I have heard during this entire crusade.”

The rest of the squad slowly moved up. Each taking their own curious look. After minutes worth of muttering and thinking of the situation, Gabriel took the front. “This requires much  _ much _ further study. We must be sure if we are to rescue this…  _ girl. _ ”

“Chapter Master, you cannot possibly be thinking of saving this  _ xeno _ ?” Charon asked in outrage. “It is heresy.” His tirade was stopped by Phlegyas when he put an arm on his brother's shoulder.

“Kinsmen, be calm.” He soothed his brother's soul. “We live in extraordinary times. The Lord Commander himself has declared his alliance with the Aeldari, surely this can be taken as an omen.”

“I would agree with you both.” Macario interrupted. “If it were not for one simple thing.”

“That being, Chief-Librarian?” Angelos asked, his tone inquisitive.

“Her true heritage. She is the crossbreed of a transhuman and an Aeldari Exodite.”

Magnus: “...she is literally red.”  
Sanguinius: “You have been a traitor for thousands of years in that future, brother.”  
Magnus: Yes, but she is red.”  
Rogal: *Stands up and walks over to Magnus*  
Magnus: “NO!”  
Emperor: “NO ROGAL, DOWN, CEASE!”  
Rogal: *Stops and points* “So be it.” *Goes to sit back down even as Leman laughs and puts an arm across a horrified Magnus’ shoulders*  
Perturabo: *Leans over* “You did that intentionally to help Magnus get his mind off of things didn’t you?”  
Rogal: *Smacks Perturabo*  
Perturabo: *Recoils and grows angry before slightly smiling* “Appreciated.”

More time passed in silence. Everyone could feel the tension as Phlegyas was barely able to hold back Charon. Finally, it was the Chapter Master that broke the silence. “Brother Techmarine. Do you judge the stasis pod capable of undergoing transport?”

“Chapter Master!” Charon immediately started up again. “You  _ cannot _ be serious?”

“It is my  _ command _ Serjeant!” Angelos’ voice thundered. “And I will  _ not _ have it questioned.” He finished with a stern look at Charon’s way, causing the marine to immediately go quiet even as the Techmarine prodded about the stasis pod.

“If we apply a portable generator or a powerful enough energy cell.” The Techmarine rumbled. “We should be able to move the pod with relative ease.”

“Good.” Angelos spoke. “Then prepare for transport.”

**…**

The world slowly came back into being.

Her eyes felt weak, her knees heavy, arms loose and limp. She felt as if her entire body had turned inside out as the hot, burning sensation came to life in every single nerve. Every bone, every muscle, every bit of skin burned as if she was bathing in fire.

_ Fire… _

Magnus: *Heavy breathing*  
Leman: *Patting his back* “It will be alrigh’ brother. She is alive.”  
Magnus: *Drinking more ale*

She remembered the fire. The Space Marines in massive green armour.

She remembered as they walked through her village, killing any who came into their reach. Destroying the houses they hid in and killing all of the Eldar guardians that so bravely stood to the last.

She remembered her mother picking her up and running from their home, she left behind her baby sister, listening to the cries of the infant left for the flames. Her mother kept telling her she was sorry, she was so very sorry...

Escaping to that place, the place where she got the medicine… Her mother was telling her she was going to be okay. She would be safe, no one was going to get to her.

_ “I’ll protect you, Mandisa… No one is going to hurt you. I promise.” _

Then she fell asleep, on that table. Her mother humming her song to her one last time, before it all stopped and turned into… this.

Vaguely she could hear herself coming back into consciousness as the black around her eyes bled away, revealing a harsh white light and her sensitive ears registering a dull hum before being shaken awake by an all too familiar voice.

“Stable.”

Mortarion: *Sighs* “Extensive cryostasis would have many unforeseen circumstances on a baseline or even transhuman. This is one of them… she will most likely be fine.”  
Emperor: “THANK YOU, MORTY.”  
Mortarion: *Hmm*  
Emperor: “BUT STOP IT RIGHT THERE, PLEASE AND THANK YOU.”

The voice was deep and full of vox corruption. There was no doubt who it’s owner was… a Space Marine. Did- did they find her? Where was her mother!? Did they come to kill her!?

“Alleviated activity, she is panicking.”

Are they her father’s marines!? Or are they the bad ones!? Where is she- where is her mother!? Why can’t she feel her mother!? Where was everyone!?

“Calm her.”

“We cannot, any more stims driven into her system and I cannot guarantee an awakening without consequences Chapter Master.”

“Then open the pod. We will have to do this the old way it seems.”

She felt the as the pressurized air blew over her body and the much cooler air flooded into the pod that she was apparently in, causing her to shiver violently even as the burning finally went away. Her eyes blinking rapidly, trying to adjust her sight to her surroundings.

“It’s a child?” She heard a surprised voice speak out.

“But a hybrid. Just as librarian Macario claimed.” The voice… it was deeper, gruffer. No vox corruption tainted the speaker's proud gothic tones.

“She is still awakening.” The vox toned voice spoke yet again. “I advise caution Chapter Master. That amount of time in cryostasis may have many unforeseen consequences.”

She darted her gaze around, searching and searching. She let out a pathetic sound as her eyes filled with tears, “mama?” She called out weakly, looking around at the marines, all wearing armor and heraldry she knew nothing of. She covered her face, not wanting to look at the marines who were staring at her. “Mama… Mama…”

Fulgrim: “This is… really pulling on my heartstrings.”  
Vulkan: “I am so  _ so  _ sorry brother-”  
Magnus: “Just please- I know Vulkan. Enough.”

“Gothic?” The vox corrupted voice asked in surprise.

“It appears so. Calm child.” She could hear the voice clearer now, far clearer. “We will do you no harm.”

His presence… it felt… different but also… familiar. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it. It was strange, almost as if blood connected-

She shuddered violently as she felt something touch her arm, causing her to violently convulse in a desperate attempt to defend herself. Small hands attempting to push or scratch away the hand that attempted to touch her.

“Easy young one.” The voice warned again. “Nothing bad will happen to you.”

She shook her head, trying to shut out their voices. Where was her mama? Where was her papa? Where was everyone!? She opened her eyes again, darting her gaze for anyone, anything to help her. But when she looked at one of them, he looked- he looked just like-

“Papa!” She cried out to him, scrambling towards him and away from all of the marines who kept trying to talk to her. She didn’t want anyone, just him. He had the same face as her papa- he did! He did, so he must be- even if she can’t see very well and everything blurred together- she just knew it was him!

She latched onto him, feeling the coldness of his ceramite armour plating on her skin as she wrapped herself around him. Her weak muscles desperately clutching onto anything they could even as her mind extended subconsciously and wrapped itself around her father.

Magnus: “What!? What is she doing!?”  
Fulgrim: “I know what she’s doing. She’s reaching out to someone she believes to be you. Rosie… has done the same to a few of my sons when I was not available.”  
Magnus: “So she just is trying to find comfort?”  
Fulgrim: “Essentially, yes.”  
Magnus: “But wait, your  **sons-** ”

She opened her otherworldly gaze, expecting the comfort and warmth of her beloved papa.

Only to be met by the untold, utter horror of realizing that the person she was so desperately clinging on to with her life… was  _ not _ her father.

No… No it wasn’t him! But he- he looked like him! Where was he!? She was shocked that no one she knew, no one she cared for was here. She had no idea where anyone was, not even her siblings- her aunties-

Where is everyone!? Why? Why is she alone? Why?

She attempted to let go and slide down, only to be caught by a pair of strong, armoured hands, who held her with such surprising gentleness that for a second, for just a second, she felt safe.

She forced herself to look up and squint through the burning light to see who was holding her.

The man’s face was scarred beyond belief and showed signs of advanced age. Hard features carved into it by no doubt countless battles and incredible deeds. He had four bolts lodged into the skin of his forehead. One of his eyes was cerulean blue, and the other glowed bright red with the artificial light of an augmetic.

Perturabo: “By the throne… he  _ does _ look like Magnu- Don’t you fucking dare Rogal.”  
Rogal: “So be it.”

This was most assuredly  _ not _ her father. This… was a  _ Space Marine _ .

She feebly attempted to push herself out of his grasp, but it did little of getting her out. Frustrated, she couldn’t stop the tears welling in her eyes and big to roll down her cheeks in big, fat droplets. She wanted her papa, she wanted her mama. She didn’t want to be here- she wants to go home!

She wailed at an ever increasing pitch and with more desperation with each sob. She didn’t even have the energy nor the will to fight with the one holding her.

“Give her here.” She vaguely heard a voice speak behind her then, and the arms turned her around even as a finger was pressed to her forehead.

**“Calm.”**

Magnus: “Ha… I’ve used that same technique before on the children… Ironic…”  
Leman: *Hands Magnus another tankard of ale*

The word echoed around her head like a soothing chime, making her mind calm down extremely fast and her thoughts gather yet again as she forced herself to focus on the locus of energy.

A psyker had touched her mind.

Turning, she found her gaze had sharpened and her hearing had returned in full.

The Marine that stood there looked dour and serious as was typical of his brotherhood. But the deeper she looked the more…  _ kindness _ she saw.

Experimentally reaching out, she touched every single mind in the room. Then further, the… hallways outside then… the level? Then… the ship!? They were on a ship!?

Her mind began to race again but the locus from the librarian forced her to remain calm even as she looked closer at the minds of the Marines surrounding her. She tentatively probed a bit deeper into their minds, finding she could mind link with them, unlike the Aeldari and humans she wasn’t related to… Just like the marines of her papa’s legion… Just like with her mama and her siblings...

Magnus: *Sips on ale gently even as an eyebrow raises and he begins to think*

Slowly, her lips, wet with tears, opened even as she sniffed back the effects of her earlier crying.

“Bro-brothers?”

Magnus: *Spits out the ale* “THEY’RE MY SONS!?”  
Ferrus: “That makes sense. The Thousand Sons steal artifacts all the time.”  
Magnus: “We do not steal, we repurpose- we have gone through this!”

The silence around her was deafening even as a positive sounding chime was heard.

“Chapter Master…” It was the voice filled with vox corruption. “We have a match. A  _ perfect _ genetic match, including her sire.”

Corvus: “Well, there goes that secret.”  
Jaghatai: “Lasted long.”

The man holding her quickly turned. “Who?”

“My lord… Primarch Magnus the Red is the hybrid's father.”

Here, the vid finally ended, leaving a blank screen for the family to watch.

Magnus slowly breathed in and out even as he rubbed at his temples with one hand, the other still firmly around the mostly finished cup of ale. He stood, leaving behind the ale and left the room without another word, rejecting anyone who attempted to speak to him, even the Emperor who attempted to mind link with him for just a moment.

The Emperor knew that Magnus was most likely still… furious with what happened earlier. He did nothing wrong, he merely stopped his sons from having a meltdown and stopped Magnus from lashing out with his temper tantrum. Though now, he was walking away and wouldn’t even let him mind link with him. Things were complicated now and would require… a solution as they went further down the line. Yet again, for what felt like the upteenth time, the Emperor thought to the ultimate and unthinkable solution…

Surprisingly enough, it was Horus who got up next and appeared to go after his brother.

**...**

“Brother.” Magnus heard the distinct voice of Horus behind him as he stormed down the hallway leading away from the viewing room on the Bucephalus.

“Leave me, Horus.” He just… He just needed to leave, gather his thoughts, He needed time away from everyone.

“No.” He heard the much firmer voice now even as a hand grabbed his shoulder and turned him around. “We must speak, the time has come that you must become aware of something about our Father.”

Magnus paused, turning to Horus with a furious look in his lone eye. “Is that what it all comes down to? I want to try and connect with everyone, apparently, I fuck up again **as usual** and get to find out in the near almost future, my family was slaughtered and yet it all comes back to how Father feels? Spare me if I am less than pleased to hear how this is about Father.”

“That is not Father.”

Of all the answers Horus could have given him, that was the one Magnus had least expected.

“Wh-what?” He asked in confusion. “What do you mean that isn’t Father?”

“Physically, it is Him.” Horus admitted. “But psychologically, the way He acts.” Horus took a deep breath. “He hasn’t always been like that. There is a time, a time long before this, a time where Father was warm and sentimental and even…  _ loving _ , in His own way.”

Magnus’ face hardened, and so too, did his resolve. “Long since past then.”

“Yes.” Horus sighed. “And in that, lies the issue.” The Warmaster now looked Magnus directly into his eye. “He has chosen to watch us all more closely, to not leave our side. I thought that it meant He would go to being his old self but the warmth… it isn’t only diminished, it has vanished.  _ Entirely _ .”

“And why are you saying this? This isn’t an excuse for-”

“No. You misunderstood me, brother, I come to you with this knowledge because I know you have held a connection with Him since before any of us. I want you to think, please explore your memory and tell me, is there a time when He was  _ truly _ different.”

Magnus paused and thought this through. He remembered clearly the time he spent with their Father. From when he first gained consciousness and was the only one who could speak to him, to when they were scattered and he was still able to contact their Father. He remembered the time on Terra and eventually Luna, when they were all just barely children. Him, Father, II and XI, the four of them talking and... Of course, there was a difference, he knew it. “Yes, I can think of plenty of times when He was different. When He cared.” He let out a humorless laugh, “why must you make me worry for Him when all I want to do is be angry with Him?”

“Because despite how furious you are with Him, there is still the underlying issue of what has happened to Father.” Horus paused, “Though please do understand, I am not trying to push aside your feelings or how you feel about what has happened in there.”

Another humorless laugh, “could have fooled me.”

Horus smiled. It was mirthless. “I only say so because I suspect that He has changed far more radically than should be possible. Even for  _ Him _ .” Then he sighed. “Although there is but one person that can know for sure.”

Magnus nodded along, sighing himself.

“Malcador.”

**...**

How absolutely fascinating!

Ragio was currently balancing a stack of books in one arm while he carried a smaller stack in the other. There was a grin on his face, genuine excitement at sitting down with a good book and learning everything he could about the Imperium! Not just the Imperium, but the ships, the armour, the medical discoveries-!

Everything!

He was so glad his Uncle Leman showed him the Thousand Sons Library, he was able to take so many books with him after his Uncle said that the legion allows people to borrow from them all the time.

Now he was back on the  _ Conqueror _ , hopelessly trying to find his way to the quarters that were assigned to him at the topmost level. Out of pure spite he avoided asking any of his father's sons and or serfs. He would be damned if he would go to them for help with anything, he would rather spend hours walking around until he found the damn room.

He hated looking at the few who sported those… things. The nails were something truly abhorred, knowing what they did to a person. How could they think to put those things willingly into their heads!? Were they completely mad?

He had a feeling he should keep that thought to himself.

Some of the legion supposedly had quite extreme views, or so he had heard. He decided to try and keep away from politics for as long as he possibly could.

He walked down the hallway, spotting two massive, grand doors.

Well, they did tell him his quarters would be  _ grand _ . So it was worth a shot perhaps?

He quickly walked the remaining length of the hall and the doors began to open by themselves even as he rebalanced all the books he held. Wouldn’t do to have these precious tomes fall and get damaged after all-

“Angron, you can’t just sit here and brood all day.”

“Yes, I can. Fuck off.”

Ragio paused, knowing he was walking in on something he  **really** didn’t want to be a part of...

“You need to talk to him at some point. You can’t hide away in a dark room and avoid him.” Lorgar, his uncle, was berating his… sire.

“Yes, I **can** .”

Lorgar took a deep breath, “Angron. Please, if you don’t get up and talk to him, then I will go and find him for you!” He placed his fists on his hips, standing over Angron who growled at him. “I will. I’ll do it.”

Ragio slowly began backing up…

“No, you fucking won’t.” Angron looked at Lorgar directly now. “You wouldn’t fucking dare.”

He was almost to the door…

“Alright, the first step is getting the damn lights on,” Lorgar mumbled, walking over to a switch. “Honestly, sitting in a dark room like a child brother…” He then flipped on the switch, causing Ragio to freeze even as the two Primarchs slowly turned to him.

“Uhh…” Ragio mumbled out. “Fuck.”

Lorgar turned back to Angron. “Certainly your son.” He then witnessed more proof of the connection when both gave Lorgar a death glare. Complete with the wrinkled nose and the baring of teeth. “Most definitely your son.” He sighed in relief. “But I think my job is done here, I will leave you two to talk it out.” Then he strode for the door, walking by Ragio and patting him on his shoulder as he went by and the door closed shut behind him.

Ragio watched as his uncle went, an eye twitching in anger.

He turned his head to his brooding  _ father _ . Then back at the door. He sighed once and made his way for the door.

It didn’t open by itself.

He looked over and saw the open door rune.

He pressed it.

It emitted a negative sounding ping.

“The fuck?” Ragio slowly muttered under his breath, already knowing he was going to be stuck here. But still, he pressed the rune again. And again. And again. He stood there pressing the rune so many times, he heard Angron let out an angered growl.

“Stop. Pushing. The. RUNE.”

The finger quickly turned to a fist as he suddenly smashed the entire control outlet by accident.

Breathing exercises. He reminded himself. Just breathe…

You know what? He was here to read. And he was  _ damned _ if his father was going to stop him from doing just that.

He turned around and swiftly walked towards the absolutely massive red and bronze decorated bed. Avoiding the look that his father was giving him from the center of the room where he sat on a massive throne.

He sat himself down on the comfortable bed and spread out his books, carefully studying the titles before plucking one out, which for some reason had three massive belts wrapped around it, securing it shut tightly.

He felt, rather than saw that his father was staring at him and so looked up to see the two golden eyes of his sire staring at him in curiosity.

“I'm not a complete savage, I am going to study.  **_If that’s alright with you._ ** ” Was the first thing out of Ragio’s mouth, which both pleased him and made him wonder if he had a death wish.

“Ha!” Angron let out a bark of laughter. “Just like the red one. Fine child, do what you want.” Angron then leant back and crossed his arms.

"I'm not a child." Ragio humphed and went back to his books even as Angron’s face took on a suspicious gaze.

“Where did you get those books?”

Ragio didn’t even look up, too busy with opening the dictionary he had picked up, “ _ Dummies Guide for Speakers of Low Gothic to High Gothic 4th Edition _ ” and frowning at the title. Did they really have to call it that? He sighed, “The Thousand Sons library. Uncle Leman took me there once…” He paused, thinking about what happened only days ago. “...he told me that I could take any books from there and start my studies… after calling me a nerd.”

“Sounds like…” Angron trailed off. “Magnus let you borrow a book?”

Ragio shrugged, “I don’t know. Leman said that everyone borrows books from them. No one was around to say otherwise.” He flipped over the book on how to truly translate gothic since he was still getting the hang of it. Apparently there were more books on this type of subject, a “ _ Dummy _ ” series. How could someone want to make more of these insulting books? And why would someone want to read about architecture for dumm- wait that sounded interesting actually… He then began to take off the belts of the other book he had chosen. It was completely in high gothic so he only understood a couple of words. Or well… one in the title to be exact. The Codex part. He couldn’t quite get the second one, Dae- dae- monica? Something like that. “Besides, isn’t he… ah the word is on the tip of my tongue… Prime something. Yes, he is a Prime something, and I’ve seen that no one really tells them no. So I don’t see the big deal.”

Angron slowly stood as he saw what the book that Ragio was unlatching looked lik- was the damn thing  _ growling!? _

“No,” Angron spoke. “They never let anyone borrow…” Muttering something under his breath he spoke again. “Where did you get that book?”

“Uhhhh…” He shrugged, “somewhere in the back? I don’t understand High Gothic, so I just loaded my arms with books and now I’m here.” Ragio was unlatching the last belt. Whoever did it, did it  _ extremely  _ tightly, it took a considerable amount of strength to unlatch them.

Angron got slowly closer and closer. “What did the section you took it from say…  _ exactly _ …”

Thank whatever it is he’s supposed to praise for eidetic memory. “Periculum est ne utar?”

Angron’s eyes widened. “Ragio! That means Danger! Do NOT us-”

Suddenly, four - spider-like eyes popped up on the book as the last belt went flying away and the book opened by itself, sprouting a mouth as it began gnarling and snarling at him even as it lunged for his face. Its massive mouth opening and closing with vicious speed like an attack canid.

Ragio screamed at the thing and threw it as hard as he could across the room, listening to it impact the wall with an audible crunch. “Is it dead!?”

Father and son turned.

“I-I think I threw it over there? It fell behind the sofa…” Ragio spoke even as the two in unison slowly began to crouch down to see under it.

There it was, lying completely still and closed.

“I-” Ragio began. “I think I killed i-”

The book immediately began chomping yet again as it somehow  _ lunged _ for them across the floor. The lack of any legs apparently not hindering the cursed thing in the slightest as it went for Angron before  _ leaping  _ up,  _ dodging _ an angry punch and attaching itself to the Primarchs face where it began chomping further.

Angron began screaming and trying to tear the cursed thing from his face, calling it an abomination. Ragio took the moment to grab a splintered sofa leg from the leap and swung at the thing. Too bad Angron was able to rip it from his face before Ragio could strike it, and instead smacked his father in the face as hard as he could, sending the book flying to Ragio.

Said Primechild managed to catch it, one hand on each cover even as the thing was chomping, attempting to kill him.

He looked past it to see that the book itself did little to no damage to his father.

“Some help maybe!?” He then asked as the book almost bit his nose.

Angron looked at him and grinned.

“Stop grinning at me this thing is going to eat my face!” He held the thing back, watching as it snapped at him with all that snarling and gnarling and agh! “Oh for fucks-” Ragio swore with wide eyes even as the book missed by just a hair. “-shit fuck piss- dad! Help me!”

That did it, Angron reached over and grabbed the book before throwing it as hard as he could towards the door.

The door which had just opened.

“So you two.” Came Lorgar’s voice. “Did you manage to-” One of his hands reached out with inhuman speed and caught the book.

He sighed deeply. “I will take that as a no, considering you are already throwing things.” He looked down at the thing in his hand. “Is this book grow-”

It launched for him, barely missing his neck and instead of attaching itself to the back of Lorgar’s fine clothing. As the book chomped and ripped away Lorgar's clothes, said Primarch danced around, desperately attempting to get it off of his back.

“Help!” He finally said, looking at the two other people in the room, both of which were frozen in shock. “Help me dammit!” He yelled as he desperately swung again for the book who this time bit his finger, causing him to yelp in pain as the daemonic teeth's sting was far fiercer than the actual bite.

Then Angron laughed, a good hearty laugh as he fell back onto his bed.

And perhaps even more surprising, Ragio was unable to keep from laughing as well, the sound falling from him in cascades. Laughing just as much as his father as the absolute ridiculousness of the situation became known to both.

After a few more seconds of struggle and cloth eating, Lorgar finally managed to grab and throw the book out of the door and down the hallway, where it skittered somewhere, burying itself who knew where.

Angron and Ragio slowly stopped laughing.

Then they looked at Lorgar, who stood there, his fine clothing torn to absolute shreds with a frown on his face, and laughter took them again even as a few serfs marched down the hallway outside.

Only to have to run away as the book began chomping again from its hiding spot. Growling and snarling as it darted across the floor after the now runaway serfs, causing Ragio and Angron to laugh even harder as Lorgar’s frown slowly grew into a smirk.

It had taken literal days. And a set of  _ incredibly  _ expensive robes, but by the Emperor, he had made them take the first step. And that made it all worth it.

Though it felt more like almost two month- OW FUCK, HIS HEAD!


	13. Revelation

As soon as Magnus left the viewing room, the tension of the family should have dissipated, yet it stayed. The family looked to each other after the end of that vid, some thinking about what had been said. Others, namely Leman, had been thinking over his own actions these past few weeks and even how he had behaved from before the seven weeks of vid watching and forced family bonding.

Perhaps he had been too hard on Magnus, or hadn’t apologized enough during their time before all of this. But he hadn’t meant to make him truly believe he hated him. He didn’t mean to make Magnus feel as if he wasn’t a part of the family, just that they disagreed and…he called him a witch… he called all of his work maleficarum, but in his defense, Magnus did research and do some questionable things with his power, and in the end it was all in good banter.

But he still didn’t mean to make him feel like he didn’t belong. That he wasn’t a part of the pack.

He saw as he in the future held genuine hatred for Magnus later on, how the council of Nikea was him, Corvus and Mortarion having a trial on Magnus instead of giving him a chance.

Prospero was a mistake from all sides. Neither the fault of Magnus nor Leman. Of course both had their fair share of the blame, but in the end of it all it was Magnus’ folly which was launched upon and exploited by a traitorous Horus, all amplified by panic, his own stubbornness, and Magnus’ depression over the situation.

They burned Prospero. All over a damned  _ mistake _ . The Chaos Gods’ manipulation was masterful, and they were played like pieces on a regicide board.

He broke his own brothers back for helvete’s sake! Was Magnus truly at such a precipice at that point in his life that he would simply  _ allow _ it to happen?

Only one thing was for sure, this family was like fire and water, and mixed just about as well.

“Ah, fook… Ah should never ‘ave been tha’ ‘ard on Magnus.” Leman spoke up and broke the silence of the room, yet the tension did not lift. “This is my fault.”

“I disagree,” Rogal said in his defense, “it is father’s.”

That stunned everyone in the room, who thought that the brick that was Rogal Dorn could blame his own father?

“PARDON?” The Emperor cut in. “HOW IS THIS-” The Emperor paused, thinking over everything that has, would have and is happening. In the span of seconds, he knew there was nothing he could say that wouldn’t make this his fault. He sighed and with a weary hand, rubbed his face, “NEVERMIND, IT IS.”

The emotion of surprise somehow managed to reach a new rise yet again, caused everyone in the room to immediately feel even more awkward. Well, their Father admitted it, and now Leman and Rogal are pointing it out. The entire family was fucked up from the beginning and even Rogal and the Emperor himself finally voiced what everyone was thinking.

Guilliman seized upon the moment, attempting to dispel the tension and awkwardness. “Should we just watch the next vid? It will help us take our minds off of this situation.”

Sanguinius sighed and rubbed his eyes. “While I appreciate the distraction, Roboute, we cannot just go and watch another vid and ignore the proverbial Grox in the room. This is all going to come back to blow up in our faces if we don’t address it.”

“Stay out of my area of prophecies pretty boy.” Konrad snorted. “But I agree, at one point or another we are all going to explode on each other… maybe even literally, or maybe someone might be thrown through a wall-”

“I wouldn’t take it that far,” Horus said as he walked back in looking beyond tired as he took his place at his Father’s right. “Magnus has decided to go and rest to contemplate on some things, but we will need to talk about this…  _ situation _ eventually.”

“WE SHALL HAVE A DISCUSSION ABOUT IT IN DUE TIME.” The Emperor spoke in a lowered tone. “UNTIL THEN… I KNOW ROBOUTE HAS BEEN ITCHING TO GET BACK TO SEEING HOW AEGIDIUS HAS BEEN DOING.”

The tension in the room appeared to elevate at least slightly as Horus sat back down on his throne and Magos Lehm inserted the next holotape all the while Corvus could be heard whispering “An atrocity on family values.”

**...  
** **204.M42 - The Fortress of Hera, Macragge  
...**

The sound of panting, yelling, and exertion filled the air of the training arena which the view opened upon. Along the edges and around the large training area, neophytes were in the middle of their own training regimes with serfs aiding them. In the middle, on a padded floor, two little boys in form-fitting training garb appeared to be fighting each other, both holding sparring swords, shortened to their appropriate age, and then well balanced for its user. The light above the two boys bearing down on their forms, leaving their small shadows below them to follow their movements.

They kept going back and forth, prodding each other’s defense under the careful watch of two Custodes who stood to the side along with a Primaris marine and a young woman with silver, shoulder-length hair dressed finely and who appeared to be looking especially closely at one of the two boys, the one with the slightly disheveled black hair. She stood to the side, hands folded behind her back as she watched the two boys sparring, her own training coming to mind as she thought up exercises that could help her young charge.

The A: “Is that-  
The B: -a Sister of Battle?”  
Horus: “Why are you two the ones to always notice that?”  
Perhaps A: “Do not make us-”  
For sure B: “- spill your secret.”  
Emperor: “ **WHAT** SECRET?”  
Horus: “Absolutely nothing that is important or worth your attention,  **_right_ ** brothers?”  
Konrad: *Slowly sneaking away*  
Leman: “Nevermind that. Who’s the one that looks as if he’s playin’ dress up as a Night Lord?”  
Emperor: “NOT SURE, BUT WE’LL FIND OUT SOON. SPEAKING OF NIGHT LORD, CORVUS.”  
Corvus: “On it.” *Disappears and reappears with Konrad in tow*  
Konrad: “...fuck.”

At least she would not have to teach the young lord what a bath is again or watch him treat every meal like it was going to be taken away from him. If only she could find a way to get him to focus on not just his studies, but combat as well… He was too nice to fight others...

Ferrus: *Chuckling* “I remember Fulgrim telling me about when he was civilizing Konrad. Didn’t you have to explain what a bath was to him?”  
Fulgrim: “Oh yes, along with calming him down when-”  
Konrad: “ **Do. Not. Speak. About. That.** ”  
Fulgrim: “Konrad, as I told you before, it was fine that you cr-”  
Konrad: “ **That. Did. Not. Happen.** **Shut.** ** _Up!_** **”**

Suddenly, Damien managed to find an opening in Aegidius’ defenses and struck. Too fast, his training sword went past the boy’s defense and bounced heavily off of his stomach, sending Aegidius flying to the floor.

“Oof. You alright Gidius?” Damien paused, looking over the fallen Aegidius who was lying on the floor, face down and groaning. “Cause uhh… You fell over.”

“Thank you, Damien, I forgot that happened,” Aegidius mumbled from the floor, gently hitting his head on the floor multiple times. The motion was hard to catch, only the slight bounce of his hair noticeable with each bob on the floor.

“Oh. How could you forget something like that I mean, it just happened and you are still laying on the floor right now, cause yeah I pointed it out but you are still lying there, so don’t you think you could get up? I mean-” Damien began to speak but was cut off by the sounds of two people groaning at this. Both Aegidius and what sounded like a Space Marine with his voice corrupted through a vox grill.

Konrad: “Please no, I can’t sit here and listen to him ramble on anymore! The first time was bad enough, the second time made me want to expedite my inevitable death.  **_Skip him_ ** .”  
Emperor: “LEAVE DAMIEN ALONE, HE IS PRECIOUS.”  
Konrad: “He’s a precious little sore on my emaciated physique.”

“By the **dark nights of Quirinius!** When your prey is on the floor like that, you do  **not** stop and ask them if they are  _ alright _ !” Came the highly disappointed voice of the Marine who lectured Damien, the latter who ended up looking down with puffed cheeks and large dark eyes shining at the rebuff. “Don’t you dare attempt to get sweet on me, boy! Go and finish the duel!”

Konrad: *Leans back* “I like this person.”  
Fulgrim: “Will you stop being mean to your son?”  
Konrad: “Rogal, if you please?”  
Rogal: “No.”  
Konrad: “What he said.”  
Fulgrim: *huffs* “One day, you’re going to learn to appreciate him. And I will be there to tell you that I’m proud of you. Until then,  **stop** being so condescending!”

“But I don’t wannaaaaaaaa.” Damien shot back with a slight whine in his voice, arms crossed over his chest. “Gidius is already down! I guess that means I win? Cause he’s kinda in the middle of hating himself and smacking his head on the floor.”

Aegidius continued to smack his head on the floor, groaning more about how much he hates himself and this wasn’t fair and how he almost had him.

The Primaris from before let out a sound of frustration, “Boy! You are going to be a Marine! We do  _ not _ leave our prey on the floor like that during a duel! Have some honour and finish him off! Before I go over there and finish it for you!”

Roboute: “What- This is a training duel! They’re children! At this point in their training, it should be all about form, step practicing, and basic skill tests! He’s acting just like those types of parents who get overly into their children’s sports games!”  
Emperor: “UGH… I THOUGHT THOSE TYPES OF PEOPLE WERE FINALLY GONE.”  
Rogal: “Father, a stereotype will not die simply because humanity teetered on the edge of extinction for a time.”  
Perturabo: “I would hit you but uh, your right.”

Next to the Marine came the much more familiar voice of Pupponius, who sounded as if he was ready to throw said marine out of the airlock of a ship orbiting a star, “Captain Vlad, this is a sparring match between children, calm down. Aegidius is down, he loses, round ended.”

Vlad scowled, “Easy for you to say. I have to train that smiling little bat over there to stop being so damned nice- DAMIEN! _ Do not _ help him up and dust him off!” This spooked Damien who had been doing just that, ended up losing his grip on Aegidius and have said Prince fall back to the floor with an audible smack to his face on the ground.

Corvus: *Dramatic sigh* “In the grimdarkness of the forty-second millennium, there is still lack of decorum and good grace from Konrad’s sons.”  
Konrad: “He’s right though.”  
Roboute: “No, no he is not. This would be true on the battlefield when fighting against an enemy going for your life, but  _ not  _ between friends in a training duel. Especially between two children who obviously have affection for each other!”

A sigh was heard coming from the Custodes. “Allow him to.” Pupponius lectured, never moving from his post. “It is a  _ training duel _ . They are here to  _ learn how to fight _ . Valour has its time and place, it is  _ a spar between  _ **_friends_ ** . Not enemies.” Pupponius continued to lecture. “The child's trials will come later.”

“I hear and understand you, Custodes, but please do take into account it is my duty to make sure the little VIII learns how to not be so  **bright** ,  **cheery** ,  **soft** and  **_cuddly_ ** all the time. I had to explain to him that he should not be hugging people all the time and that asking for autographs is in no way going to be tolerated. This isn’t proper for our legion’s image.” Vlad sighed dramatically, rubbing his armoured hands onto his helmet and wishing he could be literally anywhere else right now. Like taking the little bat into the gravity room again and punching him in the face a few hundred times more with the obstacles.

Vulkan: “Punch him in the face with obstacles? But what is so wrong with being bright and cheery? I am bright and cheery!”  
Corvus: “And that’s fine. But apparently, in Konrad’s legion, everyone has to be miserable at all times.”  
Konrad: “I blame Nostramo, it needs another...  _ snip _ one of these days.”  
Emperor: “THAT’S NOT HEALTHY, KONRAD.”  
Konrad: “Like how you made out Magnus’s genuine anger into a temper tantrum and made him leave the viewing room?”  
Emperor: “THAT IS  **NOT** THE SAME THING.”  
Konrad: “Of course.”  
Emperor: “I MERELY LECTURED HIM. YOU HAVING AN ISSUE WITH YOUR HOMEWORLD, THE VERY CORE OF YOUR LEGION IS A DIFFERENT MATTER ENTIRELY. ONE I HOPE YOU WILL SETTLE SOON.”  
Konrad: “Soon.”

The two continued to bicker back and forth in the background even as Aegidius and Damien both decided to simply sit on the floor for a rest. Both boys watched the two transhumans argue back and forth, their heads turning from left to right, following who was talking and so on, so forth.

“You think Vlad is gonna make you do this for much longer?” Aegidius asked softly, rubbing at his cheeks where he face planted and finally beginning to get over the lingering ache. “Father promised I could attend the next war meeting.”

Damien made a face, a cross between a raspberry and a grimace, “If Palicia lets me, but she’s kinda grouchy right now. Her and Vlad have been arguing a lot and she isn’t in the best of moods. I heard Vlad say to her face that she must be suffering from her… I don’t know what it is, but she got mad when he called it a red rage and too tight of a chastity belt.”

Leman: *Spits out ale, laughing his head off*  
Rogal: “It appears that the chastity belts were not the subject of a jest, but in fact, a  _ fact _ .”  
Horus: “It’s still funny.”  
Roboute: “Please don’t turn this into something big, boys…”  
Ferrus: “Oh no, they will.”  
Jaghatai: “Children repeat the darndest of things. On Chogoris, they are known as the repeating hawks, many a husband have earned the ire of their wives over their children repeating words they shouldn’t have.”  
Fulgrim: “...really? They repeat absolutely everything?”  
Jaghatai: “Yes? Why do you ask?”  
Fulgrim: *Rubs hands over face* “Oh no…”

Aegidius’ ears slowly lowered as he slapped a hand over his mouth and attempted to stop his laughter, failing absolutely miserably at that. He couldn’t stop the giggles from leaking out as he rocked back and forth, feet kicking slightly.

“What?” Damien asked only for Aegidius to continue laughing. “Whaaat?”

“D-Damien.” Aegidius managed to choke out between laughs. “Palicia isn’t married! So she's frustrated!”

Sanguinius: “Oh, the precious innocence of youth.”  
Konrad: “How in the feth did he come from me!?”  
Corvus: “I don’t know, but I hope he never loses that innocence.”  
Sanguinius: “Precious baby boy…”  
Roboute: “Yes, yes, Damien is precious but I want to know why Aegidius understands these jokes!”  
Horus: “He reads?”  
Roboute: “Only Magnus gets to use that joke.”  
Horus: “Why…?”  
Roboute: “He is not here at the moment and that’s my son and I say so- Oh frak. Now I’m sounding like Father.”

Damien got even more confused now, “frustrated? Frustrated about what? If she doesn’t like having a tight chastity belt, why doesn’t she just loosen it up? Or eat some food? Or why not just take it off?” Damien’s face scrunched up in thought, “Wait, what even is a chastity belt?”

“No no no!” Aegidius hastily corrected his friend. “She wants a baby!”

Damien made an oh’ing sound, the adults of the background barely registering in the minds of the young boys. “Wait… why and how? How do you even get a baby?”

Roboute: “Oh shit… not this! Not when I’m not there to give him the talk!”  
Jaghatai: “This will not go well.”  
Roboute: “It can’t get that bad, can it? It’s not as if Aegidius would know about that sort of thing yet… Unless he read about it…”  
Horus: “Called it.”  
Roboute: “Why would he read about something like that? He’s too young to know about that right now…”  
Horus: “Human anatomy?”  
Roboute: “I suppose, perhaps he was curious-”  
Emperor: “ROBOUTE, CHILDREN LOOKUP EVERYTHING THEY WANT TO LOOK UP. MOST CHILDREN ONLY USE A DICTIONARY TO FLIP TO BAD WORDS AND SNICKER AT THEM. EVERY REGULAR CHILD WILL SNICKER AT SEX, BOOB, DAMN, FUCK, ALL BECAUSE THEY CAN AND THEY’RE LITTLE GREMLINS WHO WANT TO LAUGH AT FUNNY WORDS. DON’T BE SURPRISED IF YOUR SON HAS DONE THE SAME THING.”

Vlad and Pupponius stopped talking, both getting closer and their argument getting heated before they fell silent. Pupponius knew something like this would happen, just didn’t exactly know when. He was about to halt their discussion and leave it for another time, but was stopped by Vlad, who shook his head and spoke quietly. “No no, let them talk. Let’s see where this goes.”

“That sounds like a terrible idea.” Pupponius answered, already knowing that training was over and this was only going to get worse.

Guilliman: “Oh no.”

Aegidius sighed before puffing up with pride at his knowledge on the subject. “ **_Well_ ** , you know, girls that age usually get married and then they love their husband really  _ really _ hard and eventually get a baby to form inside of their stomachs!”

Guilliman: *Wipes sweaty forehead* “That could have gone way worse.”  
Konrad: “Wait for it.”  
Guilliman: “Oh fuck no-”

“Ewww!” Damien exclaimed with a disgusted face even as Palicia began to blush a nice colour of pink. “That sounds super gross! Why would anyone want to have a baby in their stomach? That’s where food goes!” Damien shuddered, then thought about it more, “But then… how does it get out?”

Guilliman:  **“OH NO.”  
** Horus: “The wonders of life.”  
Alphamegon: “You know a lot about that-”  
Omegalpha: “- don’t you brother?”  
Horus: “At least I don’t butt in on the private affairs of others..”  
Twin uno: “If you did-”  
Twin duo: “- the count would be much smaller-”  
The Twins: “- wouldn’t it?”  
Jaghatai: “Good one. The flow and aggressiveness of a soaring falcon. Seven out of ten.”  
Emperor: “ALL OF YOU ARE HOLDING SOMETHING BACK, BUT YOU KNOW WHAT? I AM FOCUSING MORE ON HOW ALL OF YOU ARE FUCKING CHILDREN.”

Palicia looked over to Vlad, who was letting out chuckles at the boy’s antics. Of course, that bastard would just stand there and laugh while they are making fun of her- well the reproductive process in general! She opened her mouth to yell even as Aegidius spoke up. “Oh, that’s easy! They’re pooped out!”

Mortarion: “What book on anatomy did he read!? I want to travel ten millennia into the future and rip its author’s head off and then examine his brain to see if stupidity can be bred...” *Trails off into respirator masked grumbling*  
Emperor: “STUPIDITY CAN BE BRED, I HAVE SEEN IT HAPPEN.”  
Lion: “Wow. Roboute did not raise his child correctly. Amazing.”  
Roboute: “Don’t you dare. Maybe he just misunderstood it!?”

“But aren’t babies big?” Damien asked, face scrunching up as he imagined Palicia doing that very thing. He shuddered as he thought about how painful that would be and then started worrying that she would want to do that. “What if it tears up Palicia and she dies!? I don’t want Palicia to die!” Damien then began to tear up at the thought. Sure, Palicia was really mean to him at first, but then she got super nice to him after she saw his stomach- but she was kinda his mom now. He doesn’t want to lose another mom...

“Damien! Calm down, she won’t die!” Aegidius spoke up, patting his cousin’s back, “I mean, girls are just different. Most can do it just fine and have lots of babies, it’s because they have special hips that allow themselves to split open and do it safely! That’s why Palicia has really wide hips and a big butt compared to the male serfs, you know-”

Leman: *Laughs even harder* “Oh for helvete’s sake, this is just good comedy.”  
Guilliman: *Smashes head into hands, groaning loudly*  
Mortarion: “He… he mistook her rear for her hips…”  
Fulgrim: “N-no. He made a distinction between the two… Just extended the… Oh my…”  
Emperor: “YUP. NORMAL CHILDREN.”  
Konrad: “How do you even know what normal is?”  
Emperor: “A MAGICAL THING CALLED  **EXPERIENCE** .”  
Horus: “I am so happy I was deep into puberty by the time you found me.”  
Omego- oh wait it's Alpharius: “Like all-”  
Alpharius: “- the current planetary gover-”  
Horus: *Grabs his wolf pelt and smothers it onto both of the twins to shut them up, tightening it even as the Twins begin to struggle and their thrones are pulled closer together* “I believe one of the Twins said something, did you hear anything brothers?”  
Konrad: “Not a damn thing.”  
A and definitely O: *Kicking with their feet and struggling to get the pelt off, genuinely surprised for the first time in forever*  
Horus: “Might have spilled some Mjod on it earlier as well, ah well.”  
Ferrus: “I’m confused? Weren’t most of us found when we were adults? Is there something else?”  
Emperor: “OH GREAT BOYS, NOW FERRUS IS CONFUSED. VULKAN.”  
Vulkan: “On it!” *Hugs Ferrus to calm him down*

In the distance, other serfs and neophytes who were training immediately had to excuse themselves as they suffered a sudden serious case of seeing their sides being sent into orbit with the speed of a bolt shell. Nearby, Vlad had to do his best to not actually laugh and Pupponius was trying to keep a smile from his face, thankful for his helmet. Palicia sputtered and looked behind herself, hand smoothing her dress. It wasn’t big...

Damien calmed down, thinking about what Aegidius said. If she won’t die then, maybe he could give an idea? He’s great at thinking up ideas! “Oh, is that so? If Palicia wants a baby so badly, why doesn’t she just ask Vlad? They always talk together and some serfs say they have shells and sparks flying and-”

Konrad: “Ah  **fuck.”  
** Corvus: “Well that ought to derail the proverbial train quite quickly.”

This caused Vlad to immediately stop laughing and lift Damien up by his shoulders along with beginning to scold him vigorously even as Palicia turned a darker shade of red than blood itself. Vlad practically screaming at the boy about how he needs to get his nose out of the affairs of others and how dare he insinuate he’d ever want to get close to that fanatic and her order and everything she stood for. Palicia then began to scream at Vlad for screaming at Damien and at Damien as well for speaking inappropriately and how this was so far from being okay, he was grounded and so on.

Horus: *Rising laughter* “Oh, oh boy. These two are definitely going to end up sleeping with each other.”  
Konrad: “ **_Ugh…_ ** ”  
Leman: “How tha’ fook can’ yae tell?”  
Horus: “Oh, they hate each other right now but I guarantee that at some point, they are going to fall into each other’s arms. Mark my words.”  
Emperor: “SINCE WHEN DID YOU BECOME AN EXPERT ON THE TOPIC OF COURTSHIP?”  
Horus: “Am I not a man? I can make observations. Is it not true that a Primarch is a master of many types of knowledge? Why should this one escape my expertise?”  
Emperor: “FAIR ENOUGH. YOU AREN’T ROGAL.”  
Rogal: “While I am fairly ignorant of the practice of courtship as I have never truly had a use for it, I am not ignorant of the idea of courtship.”  
Emperor: “HOW SO?”  
Rogal: “The ladies of the court are attracted to my enhanced physique and well-groomed mustache.”  
Emperor: “GOOD POINT.”  
Rogal: “I find them lacking, for they do not possess the fortified physique needed to properly couple. Although, I have remedied this by having a hare-”  
Perturabo: “ **I think that** no one wants to hear about the details.”

But that isn’t what caught Aegidius’ attention. What did was the sight of his Custodes caretaker, which he had known since he could remember, bent over, leaning on his Guardian Spear, and trying not to laugh his absolute golden plated ass off.

Never before had he seen one of the Custodes so much as crack an open smile. Now Puppy was full-on laughing while he sat there looking at the swirling mass of angered screaming, Damien looking confused and like a fowl who let the water slide off of him with little care, and now Puppy was losing his composure. Aegidius felt something deep inside of his mind shaking with both elated laughter and unending irony. He had no idea why but chose to just watch all of this.

Roboute: “Has… Has anyone ever seen a Custodes laugh?”  
Lion: “The first time I ever saw them emote beyond the baseline pitch they are known for, was when they saw episode seven of Text-To-Speech. Beyond that, no.”  
Mortarion: “That episode still haunts my vision, even after all these weeks…”  
Emperor: “THEY ARE PERFECTLY CAPABLE OF EXPRESSING EMOTION AND EVEN RELAXING. THEY SIMPLY CHOOSE NOT TO DO SO OUTSIDE OF THE COMPANY OF THEIR OWN BROTHERS.”  
Lion: “Completely like their creator then.”  
Emperor: “I THOUGHT WE WERE OVER THIS. WHY ARE YOU GANGING UP ON ME AGAIN? I THOUGHT AFTER ALL THIS TIME TOGETHER YOU ALL HAD FINALLY GOTTEN IT OUT OF YOUR SYSTEM?”  
Leman: “Tha’ was before yer went an’ made Magnus leave.”  
Emperor: “I LECTURED HIM, RIGHTLY SO. HE WAS GETTING OUT OF CONTROL AND WAS FIGHTING WITH MORTARION. I PUT A STOP TO IT.”  
Horus: “...well, yes. But then Mortarion kept egging him on and sure, you got ‘mad’ at him but not on the same level as with Magnus.”  
Sanguinius: “Magnus made his mistakes, yes, but we aren’t angry about his past mistakes, we’re… I suppose some are feeling raw after such an intense moment that we are sensitive to his plight. Perhaps even guilty that we didn’t stick up for him as we should have...”  
Konrad: “It’s about-”  
Emperor: “WE ARE NOT TALKING ABOUT THIS.”

Slowly, he began to actually listen to the screams, this time from Palicia. “-one more fight and if Lord Aegidius wins, we are done here!”

Aegidius was fine with this, but felt his ears prick up in surprise and a little itch at the back of his mind. Why did his ears have to move on their own?

“But Palicia, Aegidius just falls over and lets me win, it’s not fun.” Damien would have shrugged, but was still currently being held up by Vlad, “I mean, it’s fun, but he is so clumsy, I’m sure he’d find a way to fall up a flight of stairs!”

Palicia immediately began to lecture her charge, “Do not talk of your cousin like that young Lord!” She frowned at him. “Observe deco-”

Aegidius spoke up, waving off her concern. “It’s okay, Palicia. I always fall over, and yeah… It’s true, I have fallen up stairs before. So it’s not really that bad if Damien speaks the truth.”

Rogal: “How does one fall up stairs? Falling means for an object to plummet downwards due to the effect of gravity over an object in question.”  
Perturabo: “Shut up and let me tell you why you’re wrong. It’s possible to fall upstairs, as the object in question is still falling downwards due to the effect of gravity, but from their position of going up stairs, they end up going upwards. I can write down the mathematical equations along with the basic laws of physics behind this if you need it.”  
Rogal: “No. That shall be enough.”  
Roboute: “I don’t know if I should be surprised my son is a terrible clutz, or that Rogal and Perturabo are getting along this much.”  
Sanguinius: “Why not both at this point?”  
Konrad: “My head hurts already.”

Vlad chose this moment to intervene. “No harm is done then. Right, let’s get this done, both of you into position if you will.” He dropped Damien down unceremoniously, ignoring how Palicia was now screaming at him for manhandling the boy. Nothing he ever did with this woman would ever get her to not scream at him. “And you. Quiet hag, the spar is going to start. I swear, your screeching could put those damned Howling Banshees to shame.”

Corvus: “Definitely Konrad’s son.”  
Ferrus: “And… are you absolutely sure that they’re going to be a thing?”  
Horus: “I know it in my soul, trust me. People like that usually attract each other if they have to spend time together.” *Still choking the twins*  
Fulgrim: “That… I can see that. I definitely can see that and… are the twins ok?”  
Horus: “Oh the pelt isn’t that thick, they should still be able to breathe, though they have been incredibly still- *Pulls off pelt* “ _ -what the fuck? _ ”  
Fulgrim: “What?”  
Horus: *Stands aside, revealing empty sets of armour with missing helmets*  
Konrad: “I’m not even surprised at this point.”

She glared at him and stood off to the side as Pupponius thought for a moment, then nodded to himself.

“Little Lord,” Pupponius spoke up, causing Aegidius to look at the Custodes inquisitively. “If you can win this round, I will personally see to it that you can join your father in the upcoming war room session as promised.”

Oh. Oh, he liked the sound of that! Aegidius smirked to himself, he would do his best to win this time, he even felt a prick of confidence in the back of his mind! He would win and this time, he’d get to spend time with his dad! Winning round, here he comes!

As the two got up, grabbed their swords and got into position, they both took a deep breath and lunged at each other. As they both sped towards each other, Aegidius felt almost as if time had stopped for him. An aura taking over his mind even as he felt as if every single one of his muscles began to be controlled by  _ something _ .

In the blink of an eye, his hand moved and parried Damien’s sword with his own, flicking it away.

Guilliman: “WHAT!?”

Then with the pommel of his own weapon, he hit Damien on his hand, forcing his cousin to drop his sword from the pain of his hand being struck.

Guilliman: “THE FUCK!?”

In less than a second, Aegidius turned, thrusting his own sword underneath Damien’s chin and leaning it against his neck, gasping for air even as Damien froze.

From outside of the spar, Vlad and Pupponius were the only ones to fully see what happened and went silent. Palicia only saw them go from about to clash to Damien on the floor with Aegidius defeating him in the blink of an eye. Vlad tried to comprehend how the little halfling was able to defeat the other and was trying to figure it out. Palicia was in awe, the little lord holding himself the same way a veteran would have. His shadow from the light above looked so different now, larger and more akin to the shadow of a warrior such as Vlad or… a Custodes or...

*Silence*

Horus: “How the fuck did he do that.”  
Roboute: “He… That wasn’t possible. He’s not coordinated and fast enough to pull that technique off.”  
Horus: “Not just that, Roboute. I recognized that technique. That was the same disarming technique that Father taught me when I was on Terra only weeks after I was found. He said that only he and I knew it. How does your son know that?”  
Roboute: “I don’t know. If what you said was true, then only you and Father could know and since I have not seen you here in these vids… Father?” *Turns to the Emperor, the rest of the family doing so as well*  
Emperor: “...I KNOW NOTHING.”  
Corvus: “I don’t know, but the child’s shadow has changed and… That looks a lot like a much larger person. Anything to add, Father?”  
Emperor: “...I KNOW NOTHING.”  
Roboute: “How in the fuck could you know nothing!?”

Pupponius, however, was stunned. The little boy before him, the boy whom he was charged to protect and watch over was… He saw that flicker between Aegidius and who he knew to be standing before him over the fallen form of Damien. How could it be? How could the Emperor-

Roboute: “See! Even the Custodes said that-”  
Emperor: “HE HAS SAID NOTHING SO FAR.”

“Puppy!” Aegidius cried out, snapping Pupponius’s attention to the little boy who now had an excited grin on his face, hands squishing his cheeks in excitement. “Puppy! Did you see that? I did it! I won! I looked so cool!” He then started to twist in place excitedly, letting out little squeals, his shadow back to a much smaller form and following his twisting motions.

Emperor: “SEE?”  
Roboute: “The words to describe how incredibly spiteful I am at the moment do not exist in the entirety of the High-Gothic lexicon.”  
Corvus: “That also does nothing to address how his shadow got bigger…”

Damien, from the ground, started to gush, “oh my Night Haunter! Gidius that was so cool! We were about to hit and you went WOOOOSH and then I went AAAAAAA and then you hit me with a BAM and now you beat me and you looked so COOL!”

Konrad: “Oh for all the fucking spires on Nostramo, NOW he gushes!”  
Fulgrim: “He’s just being a child, Konrad, calm down.”

“I know, right!? I never look cool!” Aegidius and Damien then began to do little dances where the former stood and the latter laying on the ground, both excited that something so cool just happened and they never did something like this before!

Aegidius helped young Damien off of the ground. As soon as the second boy was standing, he brushed himself off, already talking about how cool his cousin managed to be just a second ago. Vlad nearby was still trying to figure out how the feth did the half breed go and perform such a technique? All he knew was that he was going to have to up Damien’s training and work on his footwork, especially if the halfbreed was going to be such a tough opponent for the little bat. No way in hell is his little brother going to be shown up by the halfbreed clutz.

“So hey, do you think you could tell me how you did that? Cause that was really cool and I kinda wanted to learn how to do that too cause do you have any idea how useful that would be whenever I fight against Vlad? Let me tell you, Vlad is not an easy guy to fight since he never takes it easy on me and the last time I fought him he kinda kicked me so hard I made a dent in the training hall’s wall! I think it’s still there and- why do I smell dog?” Damien paused then looked around his cousin to see- “IS THAT THE WOLF KING!?”

Leman: “What!? Ah don’t smell like ah’ dog!”  
Sanguinius: “Yes… you kind of do. Sorry to say brother.”  
Leman: “Well if ah smell loike a fookin’ dog, then yer smellin’ loike a man bird. And Lion smells loike a damned cat.”  
Lion: “-Pardon you?”  
Rogal: “Sanguinius does not smell like a bird. He smells of expensive soaps and perfumes.”  
Sanguinius: *Huffs* “Can’t a Primarch take care of himself?”  
Fulgrim: “Yes he can!”

“Wait- Wolf King?” Aegidius turned as well to see that yes, that was definitely his Uncle Leman coming in and yes, Damien was right… He did smell like dog… no… like wolf blood. Wolf blood, daemon guts and some type of alcohol, all at once. Now that he looked again, he could see that no, Uncle Leman was definitely very angry, frustrated and holding a little girl who looked like him as well, who also smelled of wet dog and guts.

Horus: “Oh yes… that happened.”  
Vulkan: “Poor Freki…”

They reeked of war like they had just come from a battle and had barely gotten out of it. Aegidius found himself getting nervous  _ very _ quickly, he knew his Uncle had some very,  _ very _ strong opinions. That… May or may not be about him…

“Uncle Leman.” Aegidius greeted with a forced smile, too stiff of a back and a false smile. “What brings you to… to Macragge?” He didn’t want to greet his Uncle, last time he did he had to deal with the large man using him as a tankard rest by accident and then loudly apologising.

Roboute: “You used him as a rest for your tankard!?”  
Leman: “Ah’m sure future me didn’t  **mean** to…”  
Jaghatai: *Looking at the Emperor*  
Emperor: “WHAT NOW?”  
Jaghatai: “Simply waiting.”  
Emperor: “FOR WHAT, PRAY TELL?”  
Jaghatai: “Are you not going to lecture Roboute?”  
Emperor: “AT THIS POINT, YOU ARE ACTING MORE OUT OF PETTINESS THEN ACTUAL REASON.”  
Jaghatai: “Is it wrong for me to hold you to the same standard?”  
Emperor: “NO.”

“Aegidius, ladd.” His uncle greeted back in a rumbling voice. “Yer’ wouldn’t know where yer’ Da’ is by chance would ye?”

“Um…” Aegidius muttered. “The-the war room I think, but what are you doing here? The landing pad is on the other side-”

“Oh aye so it is, needed to stop by the librarius as it so happened.”

“Librarius?” Aegidius’ eyes went wide, knowing his Uncle’s distaste for psykery. It must have been quite bad if he was willingly going to them… “What did you need from there?”

A quiet whine was heard from Leman’s shoulders as the tiny girl he carried turned around, revealing a face which had quite clearly been crying. “Freki…” She managed to whine out even as his uncle's massive hand reached up and gently stroked the girls back.

“Don’t worry Freya, the psykers said he’ll be fine.”

Damien was about to ask something, but Aegidius was quick to slap a hand over his cousin’s mouth, much to the former boy’s anger. “What happened?” Aegidius asked slowly.

“What happened?” Leman growled out, looking away. “The damn’ navigator managed to bump the ship out of it’s route and land in the bloody warp! Making' our Gellar field fail.”

Aegidius’ immediately began to feel anxious. “When-when was this?”

“Oh, the incident? Accounting for travel time… a couple of days ago I would say.”

Aegidius breathed a ragged breath even as he began muttering something, causing the Wolf King to look down at his nephew with an uneasy gaze. “What is it, son’?”

Shrinking back, the young boy’s ears dropped as he tried to look anywhere else but at his uncle. “I-I… it might… it was  _ my  _ fault.”

Roboute: “I- I… no… he’s being honest and standing for his actions. I feel proud, however...”  
Horus: “The topic at hand is cause for concern?”  
Jaghatai: “And you wish he would instead lie, as many other children would?”  
Roboute: “Right now… Yes. He truly did not mean for it to happen, it was an accident. The consequences…”

Leman’s head visibly recoiled even as the little wolf held into his arms stopped crying. “How in all the Fenrisian hell’s can it be yer’ fault lad?”

“I-I may have gotten…  _ pushed _ to the point that I…  _ exploded… _ ”

Leman now looked at him as if he had grown a second head. “Exploded? Are yer’ outta yer’ mind laddie?”

“Well not- actually exploded! Just-just- I might have made someone else explode? I told them to stop and- and- they wouldn’t and-” Aegidius tapped his head.

Then he saw the gears whirring behind his Uncle's eyes as he finally comprehended it. “Yer made the Astronomicon flicker.”

Aegidius slowly nodded his head all the while looking down at the ground, unable to look his Uncle into his eyes. “I- I didn’t mean to…” He muttered out pathetically. “The farseer just pushed and pushed me-”

Suddenly, a tiny voice interrupted him. A tiny voice that held barely restrained hurt and loathing all directed towards him. “Yer hurt Freki…”

Aegidius looked up. “What?”

The girl held in his Uncle’s arms turned around. “Yer why Freki got hurt!” She now screamed, causing Aegidius to take a step back even as everyone around them tensed up.

Leman: “Ah shite…”

“I’m-I’m sorry-” Aegidius began to apologize even as Freya began to show her teeth and- growl!?

“Yer damn will be! Yer hurt FREKI!” She jumped out of her father’s arms who attempted to reach for her, failing to do so even as she began to sprint far faster then she should have been able to towards her cousin.

Roboute: “LEMAN! Can’t you stop her!?”  
Leman: “YER LECTURING THE VID!”  
Roboute: “I AM NOT LECTURING THE VID, I’M LECTURING YOU **! IT HELPS ME GET OFF STEAM OK!?”**

Aegidius felt the calmness suddenly overcome him. The aura from before returning in full as his muscles tensed up in anticipation of the fight.

At the same time, Leman spotted as in the distance the present Custodes began to move at superhuman speed. Intent on getting between Freya and her victim.

But Leman knew the Custodes wouldn’t be fast enough. And neither would he himself. He could see as his daughter's canines sprouted out and her face became something far more akin to that of a snarling wolf.

Aegidius knew it too apparently. As the aura controlling him began to fight off desperately.

But in just that second. A connection was made to his mind. A connection that felt oddly familiar. A feeling of warmth and protectiveness. Of a friend. Of…

Emperor: “WAIT. THAT FEELS FAMILIAR.”  
Horus: “I recognize it too, isn’t that-”

And in that second. The massive form of the Captain-General of the Adeptus Custodes. Clothed in the finest robes, slammed down on both of his feet in front of Aegidius. His landing quaking through the cushioned floor even as Freya leapt above the Captain-Generals shoulder for Aegidius. Her fangs aimed at her cousin's neck.

Roboute: “OH FUC-”

Only to be suddenly grabbed out of thin air by a massive hand. As if she were moving no faster than at a mere walking pace.

She began to struggle. But was then brought in front of a face she had never before seen. A face scarred by countless battles and fortified by the lifetime longer than that of a thousand baselines.

Two brown, strict, piercing eyes stared at her own. Unyielding in their intensity as she felt as if her very soul was being looked into.

She felt, and was, caught like an errant child by one of the most important men in the entirety of the Imperium's history. One of the three very founders.

And just like that. Behind her, she heard her father speak.

“Constantin Valdor? What in the bloody hell…”

Roboute: “I… father?”  
Emperor: “YES?”  
Roboute: “The next time you see Constantin… please give him my thanks.”

**...  
** **_Earlier  
_ ** **_..._ **

By his own design, Constantin Valdor had taken a rare moment of his time to simply observe from the viewing gallery of the training arena. Merely standing there weaponless and dressed in robes which clung well to his physique, showing him as a statesman despite every single perfectly gene-crafted muscle in his body saying otherwise.

It had been years now since his return. Almost a decade even. Barely even a blink in comparison to how long he held himself in exile. Biding his time, awaiting  _ His _ summons.

Horus: “Oh shit, we’re getting some background info…”  
Sanguinius: “ **F I N A L L Y.** ”

When he had originally departed he knew that it was a move shrouded in skepticism and fear for the others outside of his order. One that he himself had questioned.

But of course, he obeyed  _ Him _ . He always would. His will was unquestionable, His might hindered, but still very much present. If the Emperor had a plan, it was not his place to question its workings. It was, after all, the only reason why this so-called Imperium Secundus was even still in existence.

It reminded him of days long since past, when his armour was still but beaten steel, his weapons unstable and the Imperium’s very future rested on a pendulum. Constantly threatened by everything from outside power to its own low numbers with falling into the abyss.

But unlike now… then they had  **_Him_ ** .

The Emperor was ever present then. Even if He was not felt, seen or heard from, it was rest assured that He was planning. His grand vision leading the infant Imperium ever onward.

Now He was silenced utterly. His final orders were full of mystery and sowing confusion.

_ “Protect the boy, for he is my heir.” _

Roboute: “Wait… so it’s because of you that they yet live and protect Aegidius?”  
Emperor: “IT APPEARS SO.”  
Sanguinius: “Good, that clears a lot of things up.”

The boy was obvious. It was none other then Aegidius Guilliman, at the time only but a budding soul and infant only barely halfway through his growth.

But Valdor still could not unravel the mystery of  _ why _ the Emperor had ordered them to protect him. What made this one his heir? Was it all due to his genetics? Half human and half Aeldari, the mixture of a Primarch and Farseer?

The boy was weak, cursed by seemingly poor genetics and an un-optimal upbringing.

Guilliman: “I…”

Early surgery to strengthen his body or mind were impossible according to the genetors. Even the ones that he had brought along with his order here once the Emperor had given the final command, claimed the same result.

Even growth hormones and general drug treatments were out of the question. The boy's genome was too fickle, too unknown to safely tamper with, the lack of a spare was readily apparent as any tampering was put off. They had to wait. Wait for him to grow and become strong enough to survive or if a spare could be given.

Guilliman: “I…”  
Horus: “Good to see that Constantin can still be about as blunt and subtle as a hammer.”  
Rogal: “A ha-”  
Perturabo: *Smacks*

However, despite all of that, there were signs. Signs as to  _ what exactly _ the Emperor saw in the boy. Signs that the Emperor had ordered the boys protection not out of mere sentiment as Valdor had thought originally, but out of efficiency.

From when he traveled to Imperium Secundus, to the final death cry of the Emperor and the resulting darkness, he had been surrounded by the near suffocating void and hopelessness of the warp and realspace. The snuffing of the Astronomicon and the death of the Emperor heralded the beginning of the end of everything they fought for. Worlds had fallen, psykers babbled of the encroaching darkness, astropaths declared the end, countless ships lost in the storms left behind by the final death cry, Segmentum Solar consumed into the Eye of Despair. All was lost and it was only a matter of time until all of humanity would be swallowed up into the maw of the hungered enemy who reveled in their despair.

Then, just one year after the death cry of the Emperor, the failing of the Golden Throne and the destruction of Segmentum Solar, did it happen. A new beacon shone through the warp, a new Astronomicon had sprung to life and led him to the new Imperium Secundus. The boy was the living Astronomicon, and his presence burned so brightly in the warp that the Aeldari had even taken to calling him “He who shines brightest”.

A ridiculously simplistic idiom for something far  _ far _ more complex.

Valdor knew how to look deeper, behind those childish blue eyes lay flecks of  _ gold _ . Flecks of  _ His _ might.

Mortarion: “I’m sorry but what- That is not good.”  
Horus: “Certainly explains allot.”  
Roboute: “Father… please explain.”  
Emperor: “WELL… CONSIDERING THAT AEGIDIUS IS THE ASTRONOMICON, PERHAPS MY ESSENCE HAS LEAKED INTO HIS BODY?”  
Roboute: “And that should not worry me because?”  
Fulgrim: “Not to forget that he might have been soul-bound at birth, don’t forget that part.”  
Emperor: “I STILL DOUBT IT. THE EFFECTS WOULD BE MUCH MORE OBVIOUS, SO FAR AEGIDIUS HAS NOT DISPLAYED ANYTHING OUT OF THE ORDINARY.”  
Horus: “For a Primarch-Aeldari hybrid that is. We don’t really know what is normal in the first place.”  
Roboute: “Right. Good.  _ Great.  _ I will just stay worried.”

The latest incident with the Astronomicon and all the other incidents had merely been a further proving point. His master was ever planning. Constantin doubted heavily that something as simple as death would come in the way of hindering much of the Emperor’s plans.

Emperor: “...YEAH.”

*Rest of the family look and speak at the same time:* “Simple as  _ death _ ?”

Horus: “You scare me sometimes.”  
Emperor: “TO BE FAIR, DEATH IS ONLY THE STATE OF A SOUL WITHOUT A BODY, SITTING ON THE TORTURE MACHINE THAT IS THAT THRONE FOR SO MANY MILLENNIA, I WOULD NOT BE SURPRISED IF THAT VERSION OF ME FIGURED OUT A WAY TO GET PAST IT.” *Thinks to himself* “ _ Or find a way to implement  _ **_that_ ** _ part of the plan…” _

A door opened behind him, and the well known sounds of Custodes Power Armour whirring reached Constantin’s ears.

After being surrounded by them for so long. Having known them for what would be an eternity for a baseline. Valdor knew each of his own order by simply listening to how they moved. Even if said movement differentiated by such tiny margins that they would go unnoticed by most.

“Tribunate Samonas.” He greeted. “What brings you here?” His voice was like that of steel. Cold and demanding. Not much of his attitude had changed since he had left, then returned to assume his old position.

“Captain-General.” Samonas greeted in turn, his voice deepened by his vox. “Merely your presence.” He elaborated as he came to stand beside Constantin in armour highly decorated and artificered even for one of their order.

Constantin merely glanced at the Custodes. Samonas was old now. Almost as old as him in fact. Hence why he had appointed him as one of his advisors. “And what of my presence?” Constantin asked, his voice revealing no emotion.

“It is cold, Constantin.” Samonas spoke bluntly. “As it always was.”

“And that is an issue?” Constantin returned, now looking on as Damien and Aegidius went for yet another round.

***The entire family slowly look at the Emperor but say nothing***

Surprisingly, a sigh was his answer. “Yes.” Samonas joined him, leaning slightly on the railings. “It is no longer the 30th or even 31st millennium Constantin. The order has changed.”

“The only change has been that of its name Samonas.” Constantin lectured, his voice still calm and cold. “Nothing else has influenced it, nothing that matters.”

“I would argue otherwise.”

Constantin merely slightly nodded his head, giving Samonas the go ahead to make his argument.

“There have been other, more subtle, changes since you left Constantin. We are no longer merely His Companions.”

“Then what would you say we are?” Constantin prodded in semi-playful banter that had always been a tradition in the Custodes when amongst brothers.

“Brothers, Constantin.” Samonas breathed. “Like you, I remember a time before the ranks, before the splendor and artifice that now stalks us. And while some things have gone to the dogs per se.” They both looked at a distant governess. “Our order has not. We are there for each other now Constantin, truly.”

***Massive feelings of awkwardness***

“You speak as if we were not before.”

“We weren’t.” Samonas stated bluntly before reaching up and removing his helm with a hiss as the seal came loose. “We were always made to be there for Him. To be  _ His _ companions.” The helmet came off fully, revealing a face criss-crossed with scars from countless weapons and covered in tough skin, made so by countless burns and the cold grace of time. Despite it all however, just like all of the order, Samonas’ face looked young. Destined to be such by his master crafted genes until death. “All that changed in the ten millennia of our vigil was that we became each other's companions.”

Now it was Valdor’s turn to sigh. “And emotional rocks for the emotions which came with that.”

“Yes.” Samonas spoke plainly. “Empathy, pity, anger and even fear at times.” Samonas listed off all those which once were anathema to him. “Still gone from you, but very much present in the rest.”

Valdor continued staring at the boys below as he answered. “The use of which I wonder why He condoned, seeming as we are still as effective.”

Horus: “... father?”  
Emperor: “... JUST KEEP WATCHING.”

“He knew it to be useless then Constantin.” Samonas guessed. “Now is a different time. The niceties were worthless then. A barrier in the way of progress. Now…” They both looked at Aegidius who was helped up by his cousin, the two sharing a smile to each other. “...we are raising an Emperor.”

Emperor: “AND IT’S OFFICIAL. I’M DEAD AND BEING REPLACED.”  
Corvus: “Not disconcerting at all.”  
Sanguinius: “This sets an even darker tone to this whole thing…”

For a minute they sat in silence, taking shelter in it.

“You think it His will then?” Constantin asked, doubt beginning to slip into his tone.

“Yes.” Samonas answered instantly. “There can be no doubt. He is destined for great things. And just as He has nurtured us, given us purpose, and led us to victory… we must do so for  _ Him _ .”

A rare and small smile graced Constantin’s lips now. “The cycle is now complete. The learner has become the master.” He quoted even as Samonas nodded along. “A favourite saying of His.”

Emperor: *Deep in thought*  
Horus: *Chuckling, trying in vain to lighten the mood* “Some things never change, you always used to say that to me, remember father?”  
Emperor: *Still deep in thought* “ _ Was I wrong?”  
_ Horus: “Father?”  
Emperor: “OH. AH, YES, A CLASSIC.” *Goes back to thinking*

Samonas chuckled. “Indeed… I miss those times, of when things were of such a simpler nature.”

Constantin nodded. “Before He truly lost all He had of His humanity.”

Horus: “What?”  
Mortarion: “What?”  
Roboute: “The fuck!?”  
Emperor: “OH… OH THAT EXPLAINS A LOT.”  
Ferrus: “Father… how can one lose his  _ humanity _ ?”  
Emperor: “IT IS A… COMPLEX THING TO EXPLAIN.”  
Sanguinius: “You mean to tell us that you're losing your humanity as we speak?”  
Emperor: “NO! THRONE NO. I AM STILL PERFECTLY HUMAN. PERFECTLY… HUMAN.”

Instantly, Samonas’ mood turned. “You think it true then? That by the end He had forsaken it entirely?”

Constantin breathed. “No. Not entirely.”

Emperor: “SEE?”  
Jaghatai: “He said ‘not entirely’, there is a difference.”

*Descends into an argument even as Horus falls deeper into his mind*  _ “Oh fuck… I think I may be right…” _

Samonas carefully watched his Captain-Generals body language, seeing the smallest of moves. “You think it what stayed His hand with Horus?” He asked, as below, the two boys were taking a rest and watching an argument between a Primaris and their brother Pupponius.

Constantin slowly gripped the rails, attempting to hold back irrational anger. There was no point to it. “Yes… I truly do think so. The rest of it left Him after that. Any small bit He kept, He had to cast it aside if we were to survive.”

“You think His emotions a weakness in the end?” Samonas carefully prodded, causing Valdor to truly reflect on those words for a few moments.

“No.” He spoke as he remembered of the Emperor’s relationship with Horus and His earliest found ‘sons’. “He loved them I think. In any way He was capable of still. It shaped them, moulded them. Even if it was too late for some.”

Samonas nodded along before speaking. “A shame.” He paused. “With…  _ ‘love’  _ then?”

Slowly, Constantin nodded. “Yes.” He straightened. “We shall make him an Emperor. Beloved by his people and feared by his enemies. One who is aware of his people's affections for him. We shall shape him as a warrior and statesmen. And if it means the longer path due to his emotions… then so be it.”

Samonas clapped an armoured hand on Constantin’s shoulder. “A fine choice. If a hard one.” He counseled even as the two spied Leman Russ walking in, holding his own bundle of joy. “One that I sense we shall not have to wait long to test.”

Roboute: “Father… are you-”  
Emperor: “I AM FINE. WE SHALL SPEAK OF THIS LATER.”  
Lion: “Like everything else.”

**_...  
Now  
..._ **

The Captain-General let out a breath even as the ferocious she-wolf in his right hand finally stopped struggling, the reality of the situation finally becoming clear to her instinctive mind.

“Lord Russ.” Constantin responded, his eyes still not moving away from the Primarch’s daughter as his unflinching gaze made her begin to squirm in his hand.

“Constantin.” He heard Leman answer back. “It bloody well is you.”

The Custodes did not grace him with an answer, instead choosing to look closer at the little wolf. She was fierce and strong for her age. But also stupid. Following her stronger instinctive genes no doubt.

“Could yer’ let go of my daughter?” He heard Leman tentatively ask.

He did so. Lowering her to the ground and letting her run back to her father, Aegidius completely forgot about as she clung to the greaves of her father's power armour as if her life had depended on it. She had learned a valuable lesson today.

“Ca-Captain-General?” A tiny voice alerted him to the presence of the prince as he quickly knelt and checked over the boy for any scars, avoiding the bright blue eyes that shone with the leftover adrenaline that coursed through his small body.

“You are fine my lord.” He quietly attempted to calm the boy, appearing to succeed partially as Aegidius’ body loosened, allowing some of the tension from before to escape.

Then he looked to Leman yet again.

“That was a foolish thing to do.” He admonished both father and daughter.

“Aye.” Leman confessed. “It was, and she is  _ damn well _ sorry. Aren’t ya?” He asked, looking down at his daughter, who nodded quickly with wet eyes. “Don’t take it too hard on the girl Constantin.” Leman’s tone softened as he looked back at the Captain-General. “She has had a rough few days.”

Roboute: “Anyone else ever feel as if Constantin can stare into your very soul and judge you?”  
Ferrus: “I know that feeling.”  
Leman: “Feels like he’s judgin yer soul with tha’ stare…”  
Corvus: “Oh good, so it’s not just me.”

Immediately, Pupponius stepped up and was about to speak, but was quickly waved down by Constantin who gave back a small smile. “Forgiven. After all, youth nowadays is quite unpredictable.”

Emperor: *Straightens up*  
Horus: “Wait… Constantin can smile?”  
Rogal: “He should still have the few muscles in his facial structure to smile, he simply does not use them very often. If ever.”

To everyone else in the room, those words, accompanied by that particular gesture meant just that. Forgiveness for the foolish actions of a child overwhelmed by her emotions.

To the Custodes. It changed everything.

Immediately, the other Custodes in the room besides Pupponius discreetly walked out to pass on the message. It was confirmation. The  _ final _ stage of confirmation that they had been waiting for.

After all. The Captain-General had said that he would truly return to  _ His  _ side only when he was sure.

“Yer’ have my thanks,” Leman muttered, somewhat off-put by his apology being taken so easily and quickly by the Custodes.

Constantin nodded even as he put a hand on Aegidius’ shoulders, this having the effect of making the boy jump. “I do believe,” He said, sending a small smile down towards the prince. “Aegidius has an appointment in the war room, which so happens to be where Lord Guilliman is.” He looked Leman directly in the eye, showing the true meaning behind his words. “As it so happens, my presence is requested there as well.”

Roboute: “There is… deeper meaning behind this that eludes me.”  
Sanguinius: “It’s making me  _ agitated _ .”  
Konrad: “...oh you bitch.”  
Corvus: “What?”  
Konrad: “Oh, you bitch.”  
Corvus: “ **What?** ”  
Konrad: “Just-Just… Just wait for it.” *Crosses arms and slides down into throne*

Leman appeared to finally catch on. “Indeed.” He rumbled. “Say Aegidius, lead us to your da’ eh?”

“Oh!” Aegidius perked up. “Are- are you sure I-”

A gentle pat on his back from Constantin made him look up at the massive Custodes. “Your uncle trusts you, my lord.” He spoke in an attempt to motivate the boy. “Lead the way, we shall follow behind.” Then he gestured towards the main door into the training hall, causing Aegidius to pause as he tried to figure out the unseen puzzle before him. Wasn’t it always just Pupponius who was next to him and led him around? So why…? He decided to figure it out later as he shrugged and timidly smiled before walking towards said door, waving at Damien who was now being held back by Vlad, an armoured hand over his mouth.

Suddenly, a tiny voice sounded. “Da’ what about me?” Freya asked her father down from the ground.

“Oh, I...” Leman paused as he looked around his gaze, finally landing on Palicia who had now come to Vlad and was looking over Damien. “Oi, you there! Woman serf!” He spoke, catching the beautiful, silver haired woman’s attention. “Take care of my brood over here for a wee bit eh?” He then pushed Freya in Palicia’s direction and immediately began walking over to the door with Valdor before any of the two girls could protest. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours.” He called back as Aegidius, Constantin and Leman walked through the door, it slamming shut as Pupponius, strangely enough, walked off in the opposite direction.

Corvus: “And I thought Konrad was supposed to be the bad parent.”  
Leman: “Do ye really want me tah bring mah brood with me into a war meetin?”  
Corvus: “You could have said farewell to your own daughter that just underwent an extremely traumatic event.”  
Leman: *Grumbling*

Freya looked towards the door in shock. Her dad had just left her here all alone and away from him…

Had her jumping at her cousin made him so mad at her? It wasn’t her fault that she got mad that Aegidius got Freki hurt…

She felt as a gentle hand touched her shoulder and turned her around with a sigh, revealing a beautiful girl's face, surrounded by locks of silver hair. “Good to meet you.” The girl said, smiling. “Freya is it? I am Sister Palicia.”

Freya tilted her head and reached out with her hands, her sorrow momentarily forgotten as she began running her hands through the Governess’ hair. “Pretty…” She muttered even as Palicia grabbed her under her arms, before lifting her up and allowing her to lean on her shoulder even as she continued to play with her hair. Freya being reminded of her auntie Lenneth’s own streaks of white.

Roboute: “Reminds of Tarasha… need to send a hymnal to Macragge again as soon as I can.”  
Horus: “Having a mother must be nice.”  
Roboute: “Seneschal.”  
Horus: “Yeah yeah, details and fancy titles.”  
Konrad: “...she has balls of steel.”

“Come now, Damien.” She quickly ordered her other charge. “Time for a bath, you reek of sweat and need to get rid of that before we go to the library for your study session.”

Damien grumbled a yes, and followed the Sister reluctantly even as Palicia sniffed the air and held out Freya, a frown appearing on her face. “And you smell of wet dog and… blood…” She shook her head before putting Freya back to her body, allowing her to once more rest her head on her shoulder. “Looks like two baths today.”

Roboute: “A normal person in the forty-second millenium. Miracles do come true.”  
Leman: “Oh boy.”  
Roboute: “What do you mean- OH.”

Freya’s eyes widened as utter dread filled every inch of her tiny body and she screamed. “NO BATH!”

**_...  
Fortress of Hera - Main War Room  
..._ ** ****

Roboute Guilliman, Ruler of the realm of Ultramar, Primarch of the Ultramarines, Lord Commander of the Imperium Secundus and in all but official title, the Imperial Regent, was in the middle of the war room, countless Marines, serfs and other menials scurrying about him as he busied himself with work.

Currently, his gaze was focused upon the massive hololithic projection in front of him, which displayed almost a hundred different numerical values and the supply lines which they belonged to. He absorbed and carefully categorized them all, each and every single one from the biggest value to the most minute of detail. Each was either slotted away for either further investigation at a later date, thrown away as pointless or worst of all, pulled to the front for his immediate attention.

It was tedious, monotonous work. Normally, he would welcome it. Numbers of a situation had always calmed him. It was strategy and tact, though no less important than the war itself, it was far more comforting.

That is, if the numbers he was playing with at the moment were not tied to countless lives.

Ammunition and Wargear supplies. Raw materials, promethium used as fuel, colony and black ships and that all too most important of all resources; men and food.

An army marched on its stomach and a populace grew on it. And the Imperium could not last without either. As had become the depressing constant over the last decade, there was never enough. If he had the men, he lacked the food, and if he had the food, he lacked the men…

Agri-worlds were on a pendulum, falling in and out of Imperial hands on a whim. At one moment he had an entire sector at maximum output and in the next a hymnal would come in signaling no more shipments available due to either pirate, ork or other xeno raids. Or worse...

Frustrating, at the very least, utterly devastating at worst.

Horus: “If the situation is that bad…”  
Roboute: “Then I must be at my wits end. There is only so much I can do with limited manpower and A limited food supply.”  
Leman: “Sometimes jus’ throwin’ Primarchs at ah problem doesn’ always work.”

He sighed and dismissed the hololith, it being replaced by the hololithic image of an aquilla as he decided that he had enough of that for today and reached for his mug of recaff. The representatives of various chapters and the guard would soon be here for the war meeting, best he mentally prepared himself as best he could...

The state of just how tired he was showed fully as his masterfully crafted fingers slipped by the mug and sent it falling to the ground where it shattered into pieces, sending splashes of the precious bitter liquid all across the ancient marble floor.

Roboute: “Oh…”  
Vulkan: *Leans over and hugs*  
Roboute: “Thank you brother…”

He sighed yet again as he reached up with his hands and rubbed his eyes as a serf scurried by and quickly cleaned up the mess, Guilliman thanking him and being grateful to be at least rid of his armour for a precious few moments.

Then he could see across the room as Sicarius stiffened at a vox comunique sent to his helmet, before quickly reaching for, and thumbing the rune that allowed the meter thick war room door to slowly slide open as he announced the newcomers.

“His highness the Prince, The Lord Primarch Leman Russ and the Captain-General of the Adeptus Custodes Constantin Valdor.”

Guilliman’s tired face immediately sharpened, that last name catching his attention far  _ far _ more than the other two. His tired patrician features quickly replaced by the more serious, aging, Lord Commander as he looked towards the opening doorway, in disbelief over what Sicarius had just said.

But sure enough, there he was. Constantin Valdor, in all the splendor of an Imperial Politician. Of course, said politicians tended not to be almost as tall as a Primarch, nor have the personal touch of the Emperor himself on their genome.

What had caused the Custodes to finally come here? More demands? A change of his stance perhaps? Valdor and his order had been characteristically stubborn when it came to serving the Imperium, declaring and showing that they would only protect Aegidius. That being the fullest extent of their involvement in the Imperium Secundus. No more, no less.

Horus: “Still keeping their business limited to serving father, stubborn bastards to the last.”  
Konrad: “Wonder where they got that from.”  
Emperor: “SHUT UP POT.”  


But speaking of his son...

“Hi dad!” Aegidius waved to his father before making a beeline to the Primarch. Past his father’s knee, but not yet tall enough to get higher than mid thigh, he wrapped his arms around his dad’s leg. “I won against Damien and- and- then Constantin dropped down from the balcony- and wow that was so cool- then there was Uncle Leman and-” The young prince was too excited to properly enunciate his words that well.

Roboute attempted and mostly succeeded in sending a smile towards his son’s direction even as he idly placed a hand on his head and rustled his hair. “Indeed? Wonderful work. Truly.”

He quickly looked back towards Constantin, who continued walking forward, now slightly ahead of Leman, who - when Guilliman looked at him, gave back a small grin.

Could it be?

At that moment, the Custodes had reached him and slightly inclined his head. “Lord Guilliman.”

“Captain-General.” Roboute greeted back formally even as the Custodes straightened.

“I have come to attend the war meeting.”

Guilliman couldn’t stop the smile that spread on his face. Not being able to shut down the optimistic part of his mind that whispered such lovely thoughts.

If Valdor had come for what he thought he did… then the Custodes would soon be on the front once more. There was much that needed to be done and their help would be a boon for the entirety of the Imperium. He did wonder what made them finally come forward, did it have to do with Aegidius?

Sanguinius: “Yeah. Come on.  _ Tell us. _ ”  
Horus: “I think we should take a break after this…”  
Sanguinius: “ _ No. _ ”

He reached out with a hand and clasped Valdor’s shoulders. “Fantastic news, you are most welcome.”

Another incline before Valdor regarded Aegidius who was slightly pouting at only getting a hair ruffle. “My Emperor, I believe you can speak to your father at a later time after the meeting?” He ignored the silence that permeated the room at this, watching as the little liege let go of his father.

Corvus: “Should we even bother getting excited over the third confirmation?”  
Rogal: “No.”

“Fine…” Aegidius stepped to the side, quite miffed that he couldn’t have just a minute with his dad. And what was going on with everyone? Didn’t his dad say he was going to be the new Emperor when he got older? So why was everyone acting so weird? “Uhhh… I’ve never been a part of a real war meeting, except when I sneaked in to watch-  _ don’t get mad dad I don’t do that anymore _ .”

Leman was the one to break the silence with a slightly uncomfortable chuckle, “...or tha’ time yer went an’ broke tha damn table and summoned a daemon?”

Aegidius blushed in embarrassment, “...m sorry…” With a thicker atmosphere appearing in the war room.

Surprisingly, it was yet again Valdor who broke this silence. “All you need to do is stand back and observe my Emperor. Your youth and inexperience puts you at a disadvantage as of yet, so I would personally not suggest that you contribute much to the meeting unless it is in the form of a question about a situation you are unsure of.”

The little liege nodded, then moved aside to the table before another predicament was suddenly before him. Quite literally. “Uhhh… I can’t see the top of the table.” Aegidius moved to his tip toes and was barely able to see over the edge of the war table, designed for the transhuman leaders of Imperium Secundus. Most definitely not made with the little liege in mind.

The air was filled with the chuckles from his father, waving off his son. “Do not worry. You will have a chair, just be patient.” He cleared his throat, “But as the Captain-General has spoken, you will be mostly watching.”

Soon enough, multiple serfs arrived, bearing refreshments and with servitors that carried the many seats necessary for the meeting, both groups arraying the table with said items before quickly leaving.

Aegidius made his way for his father, expecting to sit on his knee at the head of the table, just as he had done so at rare moments when he could take a meal with his father years ago, but no… his father merely looked at him and nudged his head right where an empty, but taller, throne was.

Aegidius slowly walked over and climbed up even as the Captain-General took a seat to the right of him and Sicarius stood behind him and his father. He straightened up, ears flapping excitedly as he would finally get to sit on his very own throne! He’d never had his own throne before, it was just like the rest of the generals and the captains! And even better, he was sitting at his dad’s  **right** ! He was kinda scared he was going to sit on his left or worse, lower down the table, but he’s at the right! This... was...  **amazing** .

Horus: “Heh, I wish I could remember a time when such things excited me.”  
Emperor: “I REMEMBER IT. YOU WERE JOINING AT MY SIDE FOR YOUR FIRST OFFICIAL WAR MEETING AS WELL. YOU WERE TRYING HARD TO HOLD BACK HOW EXCITED YOU WERE. GRANTED, YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO SIT ON A BOX OR HAVE A SPECIALLY MADE THRONE LIKE AEGIDIUS DOES, BUT IT WAS ALL THE SAME.”  
Horus: *Gentle smile* “Thank you, Father.”

There was an itch at the back of his mind again, his vision going slightly blurry before he was able to blink it away and refocus. Odd. He didn’t bother thinking of it very much, instead focusing on what the war meeting was going to be about. There was an errant thought that flitted through his mind of Damien sitting with him but quickly squashed that idea down. Damien would spend the entire meeting talking and asking questions that nothing would have ever gotten done.

The serfs came around again, depositing files filled with plastek flimsies all marked with big red letters and data-slates that looked like the ones dad got and never let him read before. He nearly jumped in excitement as the same ones were put in front of him.

His excitement was short lived, however, as he had to blink away the blurriness yet again and for some reason reached out for a data slate and opened a doc. He could have sworn he never got a lesson on how to use one of these...

For some reason again he scurried past all of the cool picts of the Space Marines and guardsmen fighting alongside the Eldar and went to the boring numbers and reports.

He didn’t know why, but he read through all of them at a blistering speed, even faster than he normally would a book, even as Valdor and his father looked on, the former in quiet satisfaction and the latter in complete surprise.

Roboute: “Umm…”  
Corvus: “That is… just plain weird. Aegidius usually isn’t  _ this _ competent, no offense Roboute.”  
Roboute: “Yeah… yeah… I simply, the numbers…”  
Horus: “They are… quite depressing.”  
Corvus: *Sighs* “I hoped to draw your attention away from them.”  
Roboute: “I appreciate it, I really do but, I just have to ask… how is that Imperium still standing? Everything is stretched as thin as possible.”  
Rogal: “Sheer force of will.”  
Konrad: “As stupid as that sounds, I think Rogal’s right.”

The doors opened yet again as the others meant for the meeting filled in. Space Marine Captains, Guard Generals, a Prioress of the Adepta Sororitas, a Navigator and many many more…

They were followed by countless menials. Representatives and Adepts of the Munitorum or Ecclesiarchy, floating Servo-Skulls and Calligraphus servitors. All followed in their wake as they took their places at the massive table, some sending surprised looks towards Aegidius, who was still deep in the docs on the data slate even as he opened the folder with his other hand and sorted out the plastek flimsies.

After a few minutes of idle chatter, Guilliman stood and immediately, all of the attention was drawn to him as he began to speak.

“I call to order the war meeting of 452, year 204, millennia 42.” He droned on as the calligraphus servitors whirred to life fully and began to take notes, the scribbling of their quills on parchment becoming the background of the entire meeting.

“We start with inclusions.” He gestured towards the Captain-General and sat as Valdor stood.

“My lords. Ladies.” He greeted in a deep baritone voice. “I have come before you to declare the Adeptus Custodes deployable for frontline combat when not in service to the Prince.”

This news appeared to be important, and apparently made everyone in the room happier as Aegidius felt their tense auras slightly relax.

There were other things. Many, many minor things were addressed over the course of an hour and Aegidius patiently observed and listened, unsure of where this ability to focus and suck all of this boring information up like a dry sponge had come from. Usually, he would have been bored out of his mind or been swinging his legs or thinking up cool chapter names or busily staring at the Space Marines. But here he was, sitting still, quiet and absorbing more information than ever before.

Then they came to the main subject and his father took the floor yet again.

“We move onto defense and expansion.” A massive hololithic projection went up in the middle of the war table. “You are all aware that Lord Vulkan is planning on returning to Nocturne in order to defend it from the traitorous Thousand Sons on the way there.” His father cleared his throat. “I am sad to say that the time slot for his return has been moved up considerably, as we have received confirmed reports from the Salamanders, who are fighting a delaying action far from Nocturne, that the traitor Primarch Magnus the Red is at the head of this force.”

Roboute: “Supplies stretched to the absolute limit, borders too thin, too many mouths to feed, planets being lost and regained randomly with no consistency and to top it all off, we have the traitors making life hell for everyone else. What else can be thrown at them?”  
Emperor: “KNOCK ON WOOD.”  
Roboute: “What?”

As the room erupted in cries of outrage and calculated questions, Aegidius observed all of it. There was that itch again, his eyes focused on the hololith and errant thoughts springing up here and there with garbled mentions. Lines… Something about lines and holes...

“With Uncle Vulkan gone that means that… there is a considerable gap left in his place of his Space Marines, right?” Aegidius asked, surprising himself that he had asked such a good question. It made sense and with how everyone was staring at him, that must have meant he did good? He just simultaneously moved on to the next topic at hand all the while curbing the violent response. Though what surprised him the most was how… eloquent he spoke. He never spoke like that before! He’s getting to be so grown up… If only his mind stopped itching...

His father turned to him and gave him a grateful smile. “Indeed, one with a necessity to be filled.” Roboute did wonder when his son had finally gotten some orator skills… What worried him the most was that something was different with his son, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Was it the way his eyes shone from the hololith’s light?

Some of the prouder Space Marine Captains stood and called for the gap to be given to them. But all the while… Aegidius felt the stare from his right as if Valdor was telling him something without actually telling him something…

Turning he, sure enough, found the Custodes looking at him. Aegidius tilted his head slightly, causing Valdor to nod and stand.

“My order shall fill this gap.” He proclaimed.

Horus: “Did Aegidius just make a mental connection to Constantin?”  
Roboute: *Looks to the Emperor* “Yes. Yes, he did.”

“On whose authority?” A guard General spoke up.

“Mine… um, as the centre of their order I uh… allow them to leave my service for now.” Aegidius spoke, in his trademark meek and shy voice but grew in confidence. All with as much respect and presence as an eight-year-old hybrid, combined with some psychic persuasion, could muster.

Reluctantly, the General stood down even as Guilliman looked to his son and saw what was different as he looked back up at him and gave a lopsided smile.

There. Behind those blue, glowing orbs of innocence there were his son's eyes, was something. Something whose very presence demanded the utmost respect and radiated absolute power.

The Astronomicon. It had to be it.

But the more Guilliman looked into it, the more…  _ alive _ it looked. And more and more familiar-

“There is other news.” An Imperial navy Admiral spoke, derailing Guillimans train of thought as his son looked forward yet again. “Our external monitors and patrol fleets have taken into custody fleeing pirates.” Murmurs erupted along the table again, wondering where this could be going. “I would not bring such lowly worries before you, my lords and ladies, were they not connected to something far more important. Under interrogation, these pirates revealed that they were running from warriors of the Adeptus Astartes…  _ loyal _ Space Marines.”

“Which chapter?” Guilliman immediately asked.

“From what they have described, we believe them to be elements of the Imperial Fists.”

Leman immediately looked to Guilliman who nodded in quiet contemplation. It was unknown what exactly happened to the Imperial Fists after Terra. Some claimed that they had gone on a final crusade into the Eye of Terror itself, others that they had returned to Inwit, others still whispered the return of the Praetorian himself…

Rogal: “I am,  _ possibly,  _ alive.”  
Perturabo: “I don’t have the energy to smack you at the moment.”

“If I may...” The small voice of Aegidius was heard yet again, the young boy squeaking softly when all eyes went on him again. “I would uh… ask you kindly to continue to uh... look-? No, monitor the path these pirates had come from…” Aegidius could see from his side that his father was smiling, encouraging him. He was definitely doing good, which made him speak more confidently. “If you do that then we may find more allies... and I think that all of us agree that... guiding them… here to Imperium Secundus would give us some much needed warriors?” Aegidius was leaning forward onto the table, hands intertwined and head resting on them, elbows resting on the surface with a small smile on his face. An action that was done countless times by someone else.

Jaghatai: “...Father sits like that.”  
Horus: “Father  _ moves _ like that.”  
Mortarion: “Father acts like that.”  
Roboute: “Father talks like that…”

The Admiral inclined his head. “A… not inconsiderable course of action. It will be done so, my lord.”

Guilliman watched Aegidius closely then as he leaned back into his throne. Confident and  _ somehow _ knowing that with the words he had just spoken he had gotten the navy in a position where they could not refuse. It was a masterful political move, absolutely no doubt in his mind. Denying the request would not just be denying the Prince and bring shame to the Navy, but also denying a valid military action. His boy was shaping up to be a great leader if this is what he could do on his first official war meeting.

Aegidius slowly looked at him then and snaked a tiny hand underneath the table, resting it gently over his fathers in attempted gratitude as Guilliman felt as if the most ancient of links was re-awakened within him. One so deep and set in stone that he was confident Aegidius himself was not aware of it. Instead of the link between him the father and Aegidius the son… It was different.

Because that right there, was  **not** Aegidius.

Turned away from the hololith, the glow no longer masking the true colors, Roboute was able to finally see what had been different. As he looked into his son’s eyes he saw the true depth of them, replaced from the blue he had always known were irises of gold. He saw into his son’s very soul where the golden light emerged from and suddenly knew fully just why Valdor had come back into the fold.

**_He,_ ** _ was alive. _

The holoprojector clicked empty, the screen dark and leaving the occupants even tenser than they were before the vid started.

“OH.” The Emperor spoke in obvious shock. “OH.”

“Oh? That’s all you have to say?” Roboute asked in disbelief. “You somehow  **_cheated death_ ** _. _ ”

“THAT ISN’T EXACTLY WHAT IS WORRIES ME. THE ASTRONOMICON BY ITSELF SHOULD NOT BE ABLE TO CONVEY ME TO THAT DEGREE OF POWER.”

Roboute ran a hand through his hair, trying to figure out what happened, how it happened and why his boy out of everyone else in the future. “Father, I need to know this. Be absolutely, completely honest with me. Do you have any plans or ideas that could possibly lead to this end? Because what I saw is you somehow cheated death, you’re somehow there with my son or in him or… something. Be honest, do you have anything to do with this?” Roboute’s voice shook just slightly, with restrained anger or bewilderment, it was unsure only that it shook with an extreme emotion there.

The Emperor continued to simply stare forward at the now black screen, not moving an inch as he appeared to mill it through. The rest of the family sat there with stiffness in their bodies, waiting for any answer.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he delivered his answer.

“I DON’T KNOW.”

An impact was heard, Roboute’s fist colliding with his armrest, “No! Answer me! The shadow, the eyes, the mannerisms, the Custodes bowing to him, calling him their Emperor, Constantin smiling at him, him being able to awaken a Custodes Dreadnought- you specifically said that only you could have done that! So answer me! Are you there with him!?” He paused, going over everything that had happened thus far. The conclusion was there standing in front of him, mocking him as he came to the full realization. “Answer me.”

The Emperor looked at his son then. Their eyes catching each other as the Emperor looked at him.

“I DON’T KNOW.”

The Emperor spoke with such truth, such depressing reality that it took aback not just Roboute, but also all of the other present Primarchs. When was it the last time their father truly did not know anything?

“THE ONLY HYPOTHESIS I CAN THINK OF IS THAT SOME OF MY ESSENCE, A SOUL IF YOU WILL, HAS LATCHED ONTO HIM THROUGH THE ASTRONOMICON. NOT SOUL BOUND, LEACHED. THE EFFECTS ARE FAR FAR TOO MINOR FOR A BINDING. I DO NOT KNOW HOW THE ALTERNATE ME DID THIS. I DO NOT KNOW WHY HE DID THIS. I DON’T EVEN KNOW IF WHAT I AM SAYING IS CORRECT.”

The Emperor sighed then, rubbing his face with his hands before standing along with all the other Primarchs. “LET US GO AND REST. I REQUIRE TIME TO THINK.”

Before anyone could say anything or add onto the conversation, the Emperor beat a hasty retreat, walking in massive strides towards somewhere else on the Bucephalus, leaving behind a room of stunned Primarchs.

Horus was the first to speak, “Father just walked away from a confrontation.”

Roboute turned away from the door which his father walked out of and looked towards Horus. “You have known him far longer than any of us, has he ever done that?”

Horus meanwhile kept staring out into the corridor, thinking of his words earlier to Magnus and if by some miracle, he was right. Around them, the rest of his brothers were in their own state of shock. Konrad's brooding was more pronounced, Corvus looked like he was caving in, Rogal, Perturabo and Jaghatai were deep in thought and the less he said about Leman, the better. The entire family was shocked, hurt, angry and wanting more answers that their Father just wasn't going to give. What happened with Magnus was bad enough with how badly they felt for not stepping in, but now it was worse. There was no vindication for a brother who might have been wrong, but was also wronged, it was only them wondering how else their family could go wrong next.

“No.” Horus had finally responded after awhile, “and that’s what scares me.”


	14. Determination

Seeing as the Emperor wasn’t coming back any time soon, it was decided that the family would take the night off to cool down and reconvene in the morning.

Horus stopped everyone from leaving by clearing his throat as he stood near their Father’s throne. “Before everyone retires, I believe it prudent to discuss the matter that pervades this room.”

Leman sat back, rolling his eyes, “What matter do we need ta’ talk about?”

“Father-” Horus paused as he heard everyone let out a long suffering sigh. “-please, I understand that all of us have our issues and vices that pertain to Father, but we need to have a discussion about how all of us have been acting thus far. Konrad has been downright hostile, Roboute has been tearing his hair out, Leman you are outright depressed, Lion I haven’t heard a peep from you which to be frank, frightens the everloving shite out of me, Fulgrim looks close to becoming white from worry, and Sanguinius has been chewing through everything- all of us! All of us are tense and we’re all slowly starting to take it out on Father!”

Mortarion was the one to speak up first, “Why? Why shouldn’t we? As you have said, _Warmaster_ ,” Mortarion spat out the word, “all of us have our own vices with the Emperor. He has yet to apologize for taking my rightful kill on Barbarus-”

Horus cut him off with a loud groan, rubbing his hands along his face in exasperation. “Enough, Mortarion! Enough!” He mumbled through his hands before staring down at his brother. “The entire time since you boarded the Bucephalus, you have been hellbent on making the experience as uncomfortable as possible for everyone involved. Throughout the seven weeks and even now, you have done nothing but continue to act out like an angry child. You were the one to egg on Magnus during his vid and practically _rubbing_ it in his face. Even after Father lectured you both! Yes, he did not apologize. But you are only making it worse for yourself, him, and everyone else by not behaving as you should and not beating a dead grox.” He did not have the patience for this anymore and was done having to sit there and let it keep happening.

“You want me to simply get over it!?” Mortarion spoke in disbelief then laughed, standing up since he was done having to play nice with everyone. “How easily you lose control over your own emotions, _Warmaster_ , that you fly from composed to anger in the span of a single breath. _Forgive me_ if I cannot get over having to come to age on a planet where every breath of poison that filled my lungs burned me so terribly I feel no pain any longer! _Forgive me_ if I cannot find any compassion for any psyker as I had seen and felt personally the full extent of the horror they can unleash! _Forgive me_!” He positively mocked.

“That is not what the crux of our brothers' points are, and you know it.” Jaghatai stood up, now he was done having to listen to all of this bickering. Mortarion glared at him as he was the one having to stand up to one who was so clouded in self-hatred. “You are only taking out this anger on anyone who even remotely resembles your adoptive father because you refuse to let go of the anger that bubbles within you. You have shown nothing but self-hatred ever since you had come to realize your own psychic potential. You want to hold onto this hatred because you know that is all you have left inside of you that remains of your old self.”

“Enough!” Corvus spoke up, rolling his eyes, “while I don’t agree with Mortarion’s actions, I won’t sit back and let all of you pile onto him. Jaghatai, where was this wisdom and insight of yours when you had Magnus with you and he still believed he could do no wrong when it came to the warp? Funny how you can come out of nowhere and start blaming one brother for his actions while you have done nothing to stop another.”

“Then you are attempting to follow my example?” Jaghatai huffed slightly, looking back between Mortarion and Corvus, “You are the one to blatantly use your own psychic gifts for your own gain when it suits you just fine, yet you support the censure and abolishment of psykers. I have done everything I could to help Magnus, perhaps I could have done more, but what of your own accomplishments? You accuse me of hypocrisy, yet do so yourself, the very meaning of the accusation. You show yourself to be a humanitarian for the populace, yet you have done nothing for your own blood brothers.”

“I did not need to step up and help our brothers, they were just as capable as I to fix their own issues! The baselines needed all the help they could, I dedicated my time to helping as many people as possible. I’m not like Leman who continues to use psykers and call them wolf priests and deny they’re very nature! If I am a hypocrite, then he is the largest amongst us all!”

“Oi! Why are ye bringin’ me into this!? Go back to tearin each other apart.”

“So we should ignore you?” Perturabo sounded off. “Just so you can continue to claim the glory without the consequence? As you always do.” His tone obviously bitter.

Leman shrugged, “Better to not get into a fight with all o’ ye. Don’t want ta waste my time fightin’ against a manchild who went against the Emperor cause daddy didn’t put yer head and tell ye, good job!”

“Running with his tail between his legs. How canid like of you Leman.” Konrad snarled from his throne, done with the hypocrisy. “Turning to childish barbs and word shivs rather than standing your ground. No wonder father likes you so.”

“Coming from the greatest of all salt mines?” Fulgrim quipped from beside Ferrus who looked to be hiding his face from the rest of the family. “Since day one, you have done nothing to help yourself, Konrad. I spent time feeding you, bathing you, making you presentable for the rest of the family- I spent time helping you and yet you sit here and claim as if no one has ever done anything to help you!”

“You went back on your word and told Rogal fracking Dorn about that personal conversation!” Konrad snarled. “So, honourable of the _Palatine Phoenix_ , who carries himself in actuality with about as much honour as a diseased and rotting carcass of a peacock!”

Fulgrim stood, hands thrown up as he glared down at Konrad, “I am not! All of us have seen the future, I at least am different compared to my future self, all you have done is push yourself more and more towards that same future Konrad! You’re completely ungrateful for everything I have done to help you- you have the gall to compare me to some low dead peacock!? You’re an out of control insane greasy bat who damns himself to his own end and complains whenever someone rightly brings up your own failings as a person!”

“Really shows how much you really cared if you can turn on me so quickly. It seems your time was well wasted instead of invested, wasn’t it Ashen Phoenix?”

“Enough!” The words of Horus echoed throughout the chamber. “Do you not see that this is exactly what I meant? This is what is causing us to fail. It is what caused us to all fall originally. And it is what _can_ cause us to still fall, and father wasn’t even here!” He breathed once, letting his words sink in. “If we do not resolve these issues, and act, not merely as brothers but a family, stop blaming father and see what we are doing is wrong and work together, we will run ourselves to _ruin.”_ He positively ran out of breath with his last word. “We are all fighting for _nothing_ but dead dreams and grudges that should have been buried long ago.”

He scanned the room, looking every single brother in the eye before positively pleading with them. “Brother… we are all of the same blood. One by one, we can be ruled out and killed and fall to infighting. But as a pack, as a _family_ , we can stay strong.” He swayed his head side to side. “I beseech all of you… don’t let this opportunity go to waste. _Please._ ”

The room cooled, the hot tempers that had been rising fell as many sat back down onto their thrones. By Father, they really had been ready to tear into each other as soon as their Father left the room for… What, was it only minutes?

Sanguinius, ever the level headed one, stood and addressed the family, “I believe we need to take a break and watch a vid. Something to distract us all. We’re all extremely tense for our own reasons, reasons that we will work through as a family.”

Roboute, who had been quiet all this time, nodded, “That sounds excellent. Would anyone be averse to watching this without Father for once?”

There were no objections, mostly due to members of the family either being severely uncomfortable, undeniably tense from their outbursts or desperately wishing anything else could be done so they no longer had to deal with the suffocating atmosphere.

Horus nodded towards Magos Lehm, who was cowering behind a pillar. “Magos. Please.”

Magos Lehm poked his head out from behind the pillar, scanned the room, and quietly made his way to the holoprojector to begin his rites. He had been sure he was going to almost die again from being in a room with almost twenty angry god-like beings. However, his many attempted suicides foiled by his own mechanical being would see that he lives another day on the Bucephalus would see he survives almost twenty angry beings.

As everyone took their seats, the vid started yet the air was still thick with tension.

**...  
204.M42 ** **_\- Elsewhere - Macragge - Fortress of Hera  
..._ **

“So, are you just going to follow me around, Constantin?” Aegidius asked the Captain-General who was standing guard in Aegidius’ chambers. The young Emperor having just come from his bath and was currently in the middle of redressing for his lesson with Eldrad, the towel he was using to dry off his hair still draped over his head.

The Captain-General inclined his head to the young Emperor, “If that is what you wish of me, my Emperor.”

A pout and the young Emperor pulled the towel off his head with a little too much force. “...You know my name is Aegidius, right? I’m not the Emperor.” A pinch in the back of his mind made him wince, wondering what the heck that was about.

“I am aware, my Emperor. Lord Aegidius Guilliman, Imperial Prince of Imperium Secundus, first in line to inherit the title of Emperor over the Imperium. Son of Lord Primarch Roboute Guilliman, Imperial Regent of Imperium Secundus and Yvraine the Prophet of Ynnead of Craftworld Biel-tan. I know exactly who you are, I am simply using the correct term to address your inevitable status.”

Ferrus: “Any of you ever feel as if the Captain-General somehow possess the ability to stare into your very soul?”  
Konrad: *Silence*  
Fulgrim: *Pointed silence*  
Horus: *Looking between them both*  
Ferrus: “...this is going to be painful.”  
Rogal: “Indeed.”

A sound of frustration escaped Aegidius as he collapsed onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling. “But I'm not the Emperor yet!” He stressed each word, hoping that somehow this would get his point across better. “Dad says I get to be the Emperor when I’m older, but I’m not now.” A few weak little kicks from his freshly socked feet, looking as if he was having a tantrum.

“Be that as it may, your Father may have told you that you will be the Emperor in the future, this does not change anything in the slightest. Your condition and your inevitable status as the Emperor must be addressed and you must get used to hearing it now, rather than later.” Constantin watched as the boy Emperor lifted his head slightly to angrily pout at him. “Pouting will do little to change my mind, my Emperor.”

Leman: “...anyone ever try to pout at Constantin before or was it jus’ me?”  
Corvus: “Just you.”  
Horus: “Yup, for sure.”  
Lion: “One hundred percent only you.”

The boy let out a sound of dismay, letting his head fall back down to his bed. “I want Puppy. He’s my friend and I like him a lot better than I do you right now…” He knew he was being kinda bratty, but… Pupponious was always there and Constantin was… Not mean, but also kinda weird and boring? And his mind itched a lot whenever he said anything to him.

“If it pleases you my Emperor, Shield-Captain Pupponius remains your Caretaker, I am simply the Captain-General of your Custodian Guard and will function in a more advisory as well as replacement leadership role until you yourself can take up the position.”

Two little fists were shot upwards, a loud “yes!” coming from the boy. “Good! I like Puppy a whole lot more.” He sat up, ignoring the burning sensation in the back of his mind. It felt angry. “Ah, I do have a question though…?” He asked, trailing off and hoping the Captain-General would catch on.

“Yes, my Emperor?”

“Aegidius, Constan- no, whatever. I gotta ask… You said ‘condition’? What condition do I have? I’m not sick.” The boy sat there, looking up at the Captain-General, waiting for whatever answer would be given.

“I simply refer to the fact that you yourself have been chosen as the heir to the Imperial throne. You are the heir apparent. Even if your father chooses to produce another child, you are destined to take the throne. The reality of you being a hybrid, combined with a powerful, albeit still developing psychic potential, simply adds on to how fitting you are for the task.”

Roboute: “Anyone else feel as if Constantin is dodging the question?”  
Lion: “When isn’t he dodging questions?”  
Horus: “Fair point. In all the time I have known him, I don’t believe he has ever answered one of my questions directly.”  
“Perhaps he…”  
“Does not care for you?”  
Horus: “You might finally be back, but I assure you two, my pelt still wreaks of ale.”  
“Shutting”  
“Up.”

Aegidius’ ears drooped in obvious disappointment, “Oh. I don’t know what I expected.” He sighed, “I don’t even want to be the Emperor… It just sounds like it’s gonna be really hard, really bad and… I don’t even know if I’ll be a good one in the first place. How am I supposed to follow Grandpa’s whole… rule?” He sighed again, dejected.

“You will not.” Constantin walked closer and pulled Aegidius to his feet.

Konrad: “Are we sure father didn’t create Rogal from Constantin’s DNA?”  
Rogal: “No. I assure you, I am a true son of our Father. Just as he, I enjoy the partaking of alcohol, women and copious amounts of gold.”  
Perturabo: “Oh now look at what you’ve done. You made him go philosophical.”

Aegidius continued to remain surprised at just how gentle Constantin could be. Over the past few days ever since he had replaced Puppy, the nascent Emperor had discovered that in some way the Captain-General was different from his kin, capable of even the smallest of moves with the utmost grace and gentle touch despite wearing full Power Armour. It was no different now as he was put on his feet and a pair of boots dangled in front of him, looking comically small in Constantin’s armoured hands.

“And you can not.” Constantin continued from earlier. “No one expects you to follow your Grandfather step for step, they are, after all, an impossibility for you to achieve.”

A twist of the mouth, looking both disappointed and slightly uncomfortable, the boy Emperor listened to the Captain-General’s words. “I still don’t know how to rule. I just barely got to sit at a war meeting and… I was lost, I had no idea what was going on, my mind itched the entire time, it was weird. I still barely know what happened…” He started to slip on his boots, standing on cold marble in socks was quite uncomfortable.

“You are a developing boy my liege, one of only eight standard Terran solar years of age, the progress you have made is remarkable for a human thus far, even if you do not realize it.” Constantin walked away and looked out of the grand window of Aegidius’ room, gazing across the ruined splendor of Macragge Magnas Civitas and the Fortress of Hera. “The Emperor, above all else, was an architect as all Emperors are.” He crossed his arms behind his back. “To become a good architect, one needs experience above all else. Even if the images, texts, and studies do not make much sense as of now, they need not, for they shall add on to the foundation that you are building.” He turned to him, those blue eyes shining with not a small amount of warmth. “Your grandfather had almost forty millennia worth of experience before he took the throne and built this Imperium from mere rocks and iron will.” He walked back now towards Aegidius, seeing as the child was done with donning his boots. “But unlike him, you need not start from nothing. Your armies, your people, your very system of government is already here. Fallen into disrepair and left to rot.” He knelt in front of Aegidius, helping him button up his shirt. “All you need do, is renovate it.”

Horus: “I… wow…”  
Roboute: “That has to be some of the best analogies combined with a pep talk I have ever heard… the fuck?”  
Horus: “Just… I…”  
Ferrus: “Are you alright, Horus?”  
Corvus: “Oh no, he’s not.”  
Horus: “I… Why…”  
Ferrus: “What do you-”  
Horus: “Why does Aegidius get to have Constantin answer his questions and give him a pep talk!? I’ve known and worked with Constantin for nearly two hundred years and I have gotten squat!”  
Corvus: “Here we go again… _Me, me, me..._ ” *Sounds of a raven croaking*  
Ferrus: “Oh, **that’s** what you meant.”

A small blush reached the boy Emperor’s cheeks, embarrassment written on his face. “Thank you… I’m sorry…” He stopped, thinking again about everything Constantin spoke of. Of course, he won’t be like his Grandpa, his Grandpa was super old and super smart and… And did everything himself. “I still feel like I won’t be as good as him. Can anyone be as good as Grandpa was?”

“No.” Constantin answered without hesitation and raised himself to his full height. “Your Grandfather made and guided me, do you think you can do that? Craft mere flesh into war material. Forge minds of scholars into those of warriors?”

“N-no… I don’t even like war. I don’t care about fighting or wanting to fight. I just want everything to be… over. I don’t want to rule over war. I just want everyone to be happy and safe, no more fighting, no more war.”

Constantin turned his back on Aegidius. “No, my Emperor, I don’t believe you will ever be as good as your Grandfather.”

The boy Emperor was crushed, plainly on his face, anyone could see the exact moment his confidence went up in flames. Ears folded back and flat against his head, eyes wide as he stared at nothing.

Constantin turned over his shoulder, presenting a small smile. “You will be far better.”

The shock made Aegidius sputter for a few seconds before he looked back down. Oh, how easily broken his confidence was… There was a searing heat at the back of his head that felt like someone slapped him there as hard as they could.

“Never forget my liege. Faith, confidence, and will are fickle things.” He opened the door. “You must keep a firm grip on yours.”

Horus: *Violently pointing at the screen* “What-the-what- fuck!?”  
Lion: “...Father said I couldn’t be Warmaster because I had no people skills. Horus is better for the job because he knows how to speak and lead… Horus definitely doesn’t act like a petulant child like Perturabo…”  
Perturabo: “AY!”  
Jaghatai: “Ouf, baited.”

Aegidius nodded, “R-right. I’m sorry.” Another itch, like a pinch more. This was really annoying...

Constantin nodded and pointed at the door. “You should get a move on my liege, your lesson with Farseer Eldrad is due to start soon.”

Ears pricking up, Aegidius quickly started to make his way out of the room before he tripped and was caught by Constantin. “Agh! Ah, thank you Constantin… And uhm… Would it kill you to call me, Aegidius? Please?” He was straightened up by Constantin, brushing any nonexistent debris off himself and fixing his clothes. Well. There went his good luck on not falling over for so long...

“Of course Emperor Aegidius.”

That was far from what he wanted, but at least he was using his name… Leaving it for a later time, he left his room, quickly speeding up to get to his lesson with Farseer Eldrad. Hopefully, this lesson will not be as bad as it was with the last farseer… He immediately was joined by his big bro Sicarius and what sounded like another Custodes, most likely Constantin since he hadn’t stopped following him around for the last… few days?

“I have my lesson with Mister Eldrad, then after I have free time until dinner… Do you have anything to do Big bro?” Aegidius asked, not running but definitely not walking to his lesson. This concerned Sicarius, since this made for a hazard with his little brother. “Actually, I thought you were going to be by my dad’s side during his whole visit? Why are you here, Big bro?”

Sicarius cleared his throat, keeping pace with his little brother. “I was with your father, but he demanded privacy once he began wanting to spend time with your mother…”

“What do my mom and dad do by themselves, anyway?” Aegidius asked, immediately feeling like someone was shoving a white-hot iron rod into his skull. Jeez! That has to stop! Maybe Mister Eldrad could see what was going on in his mind and making it do that?

Horus: *Loudly and awkwardly clears throat*  
Roboute: “I will personally maim anyone who tells him anything.”  
Corvus: “I-Is that what you’re focusing on?”  
Sanguinius: *Looking away and whistling*  
Roboute: “Yes! Of course, that’s what I’m focusing on. What else would I focus on?”  
Sanguinius: *Louder whistling along with blushing*  
Leman: *Rising laughter* “Ah see where this is goin’!”  
Roboute: “I… I’m lost.”  
Jaghatai: “Unlike your future self it appears.”

“Nothing you need to concern yourself with, little brother.”

Roboute: *slaps armrests* “Thank you!”

Almost a second later, Aegidius was tripping and had to be caught again by Constantin. Two trips in the same minute? Astounding. A new record. He huffed, hoping it wasn’t going to get worse. He looked up to thank Constantin again for the help but was pleasantly surprised to see not the Captain-General but instead Pupponious!

“Puppy!” Aegidius immediately gave the Custodian a hug, hanging off of the Custodian’s neck. “I missed you!” He awkwardly attempted to get his tiny hands around the Custodian's neck, failing to do so even as Pupponius patted his back.

“I missed you too my liege.” He spoke in a nonchalant way.

“Well, let’s go! I have to meet with Mister Eldrad!” Aegidius grinned at the Custodian, not even attempting to let go of him.

“My liege, you need to let go.”

“Nah. I tried to walk, but it’s not working out well right now. It’ll be quicker if I just hang onto you.” Another scathing mental slap to the back of the head. Poo to whatever is doing that. That’s just plain rude.

He heard a sigh emit from Pupponious, but sure enough… the Custodian began walking towards the spire of the Fortress in which Eldrad had made his home.

Horus: “What!? I NEVER GOT TO BE CARRIED BY A CUSTODIAN!”  
“Weren’t you-”  
“-the size-”  
“-of a teenager?”  
Horus: “...Not the point right now.”

Perhaps some things were destined to stay the same after all.

**_...  
Elsewhere earlier - Macragge - Fortress of Hera  
...  
_ **

Roboute Guilliman walked the halls of his fortress. For the first time since he could remember doing so expressly for the mere purpose of wasting time. Wasting time and avoiding his son as much as possible- Father. Or Father. Both of them.

He couldn’t bear to look into that face, be around that tiny boy who would ask him how well he did, ask him when was the next meeting, could he join… He couldn’t bear to look at his own son, disgusted with the thought that those eyes had not been his own.

Luckily for him, it was the higher-echelon levels upon which he chose to stride, making interruptions and pesky serfs carrying orders much rarer than elsewhere.

He had missed being able to do this. To shut off the intricate web of logistics and merely stride for the purpose of clarification instead of a solution.

Well, there needed to be a solution but it required clarifying first.

His Father was _alive._ He was certain of it. Somehow the Emperor had managed to claw his way back from the grave. He supposed that that was meant to make him feel happy, ecstatic even. The Emperor was back! Hurrah! And all that fanfare and… he simply could not find the energy for it.

Always there came a catch. Always the proverbial ‘but’ in the sentence following good news.

This time, it was his own son who was apparently due to pay that price.

Normally had it been any other to carry this burden, he would take a breather and move on, realizing it pointless to resist the change. But no. Not his son... Not Aegidius. He had already suffered enough. His childhood shortened to barely anything, his very existence questioned as a moral ambiguity within the Imperium’s ever dogged trend of hatred for anything xeno.

How long had this been going on? For how long had his Father been there, leeching off of his only child, his only son? Was it harmful? Did his Father hurt Aegidius? Was he controlling him? Was he doing something to sacrifice his son?

More and more such questions went flying by his mind, all of them in some way pointing out what his Father wouldn’t do to come back.

A grim, dry part of his mind growled as he remembered his last meeting with his Father, the last meeting before the end. When he first came back from stasis seeking answers, revealed to him he was only a pawn, a tool. Then the last meeting...

He realized he was tricked then. Played as brilliantly as if he was a mere piece on a regicide board. It took the entirety of the Indomitus Crusade and then nearly dying at the hands of Mortarion to make him realize just how brilliantly the Emperor had planted the thought.

By inciting hatred of his own creator into Guilliman’s mind, the Emperor had done that most primal of things. He had given him purpose.

Spite, that all too powerful emotion, king of all motivators. Many ideas and inventions were spawned over mankind's long and illustrious past, all simply because of spite. And his father had planted the very seed for it within his mind.

Even as a decaying corpse, writhing with unknown energy’s, his Father was wiser than he would care to give him credit for.

But the question was... If the Emperor was willing to push so far as to almost make His son rebel in order to secure His Imperium. How far would He go to return?

There was very little that He wouldn’t do. If it meant the sacrifice of a child to bring Him back, would He do it? Of course He would, it was the least He would have done in His long years of war.

What was the life of a child compared to billions? What was humanity compared to mankind?

The scales tipped away from that, unquestionably.

Even the most simple of Cogitators could weigh the choices and come to the logical decision, much as any cold and logical thing would.

Fulgrim: “Roboute… I don’t blame your future self at all. If I had to choose between Father and Rosie… I do not believe I could make that choice. I love Rosie too much to sacrifice her.”  
Roboute: “...thank you. I am happy to know that it is not only I who would feel conflict over this decision.”  
Horus: “I feel as if… as if that course of thoughts trampled me into the very ground. How bad is this future?”  
Corvus: “Bad enough to actually ask the question of sacrificing children to save the life of another. We have all seen that the future is grim, more so than the future we thought we already knew.”  
Vulkan: “I honestly did not even dare to think it was going to be this bad…”  
Mortarion: *Groans but says nothing*

The only issue of it was, for all the logistical and clerical gifts Guilliman possessed, he was not a machine. Out of everything he knew, out of everything he felt, the price was too high to pay. His first thought had been to pay the price and await the results if it had been anyone else. However, if the price was his child? That price was… it was...

The decision was made in a flash. The only way the Emperor would kill Aegidius would be over his own dead body. His son was amongst the extremely few good things that had happened since he had returned to this rotting corpse of an Empire. And nothing would take that away so long as he could prevent it.

He would sooner see the entire Imperium burned to ashes than see his only boy be sacrificed for some… **_Greater good_ **.

He stopped suddenly, finding that he had reached out by instinct.

It had been a long _long_ time since he had last visited this part of the fortress. It was ancient, by far one of the oldest still used parts, at one point housing the greatest of his advisory staff during the original rule of the Tetrarchs from the era of the Great Crusade.

Roboute: “I… no…”  
Vulkan: “What is it brother?”  
Roboute: “That is the room of…”  
Horus: “Oh… _no_.”

It was pointless, there was no need to open the door. No need to enter a silent tomb, vacant for millennia.

He did it anyway, listening to the creaking of ancient hinges and wood as he stepped through the door and into the old chamber.

It was exactly as he had remembered. Untouched and unused by his own orders, as if he had stepped into a portal and was awaiting for the Tetrarchs to report to him on their work on Ultramar.

He walked forward, feeling the ancient, plush carpet sink gently as he walked further and further into the room until he reached the middle of the rounded chamber.

Then, he breathed and closed his eyes. Taking a deep breath in a vain attempt to feel that most sweet, most soul crushing of emotions.

Nostalgia.

It was there. For the barest glimmer of a second. He could smell her perfume. He imagined the cheering crowds outside, almost capable of hearing them as the fortress was first constructed so so many years ago and she first came to these quarters.

He remembered her. He almost felt as if he could reach out and hug her.

His arms twitched and then his eyes opened as the vision fell away and left a bitter aftertaste.

Of course she was gone.

Slowly, he walked over to the bed, slowly sitting himself on it and feeling it sink beneath his weight.

How he could use her now. How badly he wished for the comfort of her arms at this time. The comfort only a mother was capable of giving her child. He ran to her and wept in her arms when news of the heresy first began, weeping for the loss of brothers and the life he knew.

A wish of utter pointlessness and idiocy… his Seneschal was dead. Tarasha Euten was _dead_. It was pointless…

He felt a tear slip down his cheek.

Roboute: *Looks away in obvious pity*  
Fulgrim: “Why are we… why are we watching this?”  
Sanguinius: “I… I feel so sad.”  
Roboute: *Beginning to feel and look dejected*

A mirror had been nearby, untouched and unused for millennia. She had used it countless times, laying there on a nightstand awaiting the next use. Always it had sat delicately in her hands, its purpose fulfilled. He reached out to it and grasped it in his hands, simply wanting to hold something of hers after so long.

A single glance into its depths reminded him how far everything has gone. Instead of that youthful visage that greeted this part of the palace when it was first constructed, only stared back at the older, worn face of another. Untouched blonde now broken with grey, bright blue eyes that held hope for the galaxy, now ringed and dreading the next day. The softness that had been there in his face was replaced with the hard set of countless disappointments and heartbreak.

He hated looking at his face, seeing how far he had fallen from what he originally knew and felt. Everything he lost.

Everything he still could lose.

Irony. It was the only thing he could compare his newfound visage to. When he had returned he had called the Imperium a bloated, rotting corpse.

How fitting it was now.

He didn’t belong on a throne. He belonged in a tomb, along with the rest of his already dead brothers and passed servants of this once great Empire.

“I have failed you…” He whispered to no one in particular, although it felt almost as if she was there, behind him, ready to speak words of encouragement and chastisement.

“I have failed… this Imperium.” He spoke again, uncaring that no one was listening. “I have failed my creator, my people, my very destiny.” He swallowed once as the tear reached his chin and fell to the floor. “But above all… I even managed to fail Aegidius.” He swallowed again, feeling the lump forming in his throat. “My own flesh and blood, condemned to serving a rotten corpse for eternity…”

Sanguinius: *Genuinely getting choked up*  
Konrad: *Looking away*  
Corvus: *Knowing his brother's pain*

It felt almost as if she was approaching him then, the quiet swishing of the fine silks of her dress being heard as she approached and placed a gentle hand from behind him onto his cheek just as she had done since he had been a mere babe.

“You have not failed.”

He whirled around, expecting a phantom, but finding…

“Yvraine.” He gulped quickly as he stood and walked away from his wife to the balcony, opening it quickly and stepping outside, desperately attempting to rid himself of his tears.

He reached out with a hand behind him when he had realized that she had followed him. “Please leave me. I am indecent.”

Lion: *Humphs and looks at his feet, deep in thought*

She paused, as if she was coming closer to an unhinged animal ready to strike from the corner. She sighed gently, weighing her options. Honesty had been beneficial to her before, so she might as well continue using it. “I followed you here after I felt a spike in your… emotions.” Staying beside the entrance, both inside the palace and on the balcony. “Though, I’d hardly call this indecent. What ails you?”

He looked out over the ruined sprawl of his city as he took a deep breath, blinking away the last of his tears.

“Memories.” He spoke at last. “Of a life long since past.” One last breath as he attempted to truly compose himself. “A pointless endeavor, do not mind it.”

She shrugged, “I would be remiss to call it a useless endeavor. Memories still can serve a purpose long after they occurred.” A proverb she reminded herself, spoke to her by the late Exarch of the Howling Banshees of Biel-tan. “Do you stand here, believing that they serve no purpose at all?”

“They are of a dead woman.” He spoke in a grim tone. “Of a dead culture.” He scowled. “Of a dead era.”

She took a couple of steps closer to him, careful to not anger or surprise him. “I believe both of us know of memories of eras long since past.”

He gripped the railing, feeling the wrought metal bite into the palms of his calloused hands. “Did you see the downfall, Yvraine? The fall of the Aeldari as Slaanesh was born?”

“No, only what is shared by the few who do.”

He looked out at the sprawling city, seeing as its many people wandered about the streets so far below. Instead of the clean, organized streets of Macragge Magnas Civitas of the Great Crusade, he only saw the congested canals of a city behind walls. “Imagine, that you were born, not at its very peak, but close to its beginning. You oversaw it rise to greatness, you saw it go to its absolute zenith. The glory of everything it ever accomplished be celebrated.” His hands gripped harder, feeling the metal begin to bend. “Then think of the pleasure cults. Think of how things slowly began to fall apart. Think of how you scrambled about, running like a headless grox, attempting to repair that which was not meant to be repaired in the first place. Finding replacements for individuals not meant to be replaced…”

He breathed. His voice now slowly turning to fury. “Imagine, closing your eyes upon failing a battle, and opening them to see the full hedonism of Slaanesh. Of just how far your people have fallen. Of how everything you have worked your entire life for, that gave your life its very meaning, has been stomped, and burned into ashes. Perverted and twisted into zealotry. Its very core tenets betrayed and spat upon. Your own kin seeing you as some sort of demented god and taking every one of your words as gospel.” He spat, tasting bile in his mouth. “Because that is how it feels for me. Every single day, of every single hour, of every single minute I spend here.” He looked down, realizing he had twisted the metal railing into uselessness and stepped away from it. “I am a man out of time Yvraine. Every day I look back, every time I am reminded of past glory… I wish that Fulgrim had struck true.”

Roboute: “Coming back to the Imperium in this state and expected to repair everything would have caused me to become bitter, angry… I see no reason for myself to hold anything back, all due to the hand he was dealt.”  
Sanguinius: “As much as Father lauds me, I do not believe I could have done nearly as good of a job as you have.”  
Roboute: “A good job? Everything is practically falling to pieces.”  
Sanguinius: “And if not for you, then perhaps everything would have been lost long before Father’s death.”  
Roboute: “And according to the future me, perhaps it would have been for the best.”

She reached out a hand towards his back, watching as he flinched at the contact. Her other beside it as she came full in contact with him. Face pressed against the taut stressed filled muscle that coiled like an angry serpent, she rested against him as her mind went wild. "For as long as I have known, I have lived in the ruins of what used to be something great, something to look up to. Is it better to live in the ruins of something you have never known, or to live through something so grand, even for just a moment?" She paused and let her cheek rest on his back, he was silent to her question. “If you had fallen, if he had struck true, then I believe I would still be struggling against the darkness. My people would have fallen along with humanity, all while still refusing to believe that our destinies were intertwined. With the collapse of everything, I know I would have done the impossible and died with nothing to show for my efforts.” She paused as her hands moved around his form. “We would not have Aegidius, there would be no stability for either race. The darkness we wade through now, would be even bleaker than ever before.”

 _Searching for the right words was difficult with this infernal language_. She thought as she reached out to him through their bond, hoping to connect with him to express everything she felt for him. Sometimes words were just not enough, sometimes raw feeling was the best to convey everything that needed to be said.

She had felt the thoughts and souls of many humans in her day. But her husband had always surprised her, even in his darkest of moods his soul, his very being glowed like a star. Like the most primal of powers, it radiated as she attempted to wrap herself around it and calm the raging beast.

She felt as he hung his head, then reached out and covered her own far smaller hands in his gigantic ones.

“She was important to you?” She probed, hoping that she had used the correct words.

“Yes.” He answered her immediately. “She…” He struggled with the words. The Aeldari language had no words for the meaning of his Seneschal. No true way of describing it. But High-Gothic did. “She was my confidant. The one always by my side. The one I could trust. She… she…” He found the words catching in his throat, the memory proving too much to bear. “She was my mother.”

“ _Mreth’i cuil hondil._ ” She spoke up, the song of Aeldari flitting through the air. “Mother is closest to its translation.” She nodded and began to wonder how deeply he did trust her.

“No.” He disagreed weakly. “She was not of my blood. Nor of my soul.”

A small laugh, “And? She still gave you life. She raised you and led you to your path. If not for her, would you live the same life you live now?”

“Not life.” He chuckled humorlessly. “Love.” He scoffed. “As ridiculous as it is.” He shook his head. “I was well into my second century of life when Horus’ folly was unveiled to me. When I had found that so many had died already… I ran to her. As if I was a child. I ran to her and wept in her lap, just over there.” He pointed at the bed. “I knelt and wept, and all she did was listen.” He chuckled at the obscenity of it all. “A grown Primarch. And I _wept_ like a newborn babe.” He smiled sadly. “And then… she pushed me to my feet and kept me standing there.”

“You trusted her above all else. I see nothing obscene about it. Would you rather you didn’t? What of Aegidius? Would you rather he not do the same to either of us?”

His smile was gone then, reminded of the truth and of what he had seen. The anger swelled within him then, true anger, the likes of which he had not felt since his awakening. His blood running hot in his veins.

She felt the spike in his emotions and wondered what she had done wrong.

“I worry for him,” He admitted then, “There is something… different about him.”

“Different?” She pulled away slightly, her own soul burning as she thought about what was happening to her son, her child. Who did she have to kill? “Different how so?”

“In ways hidden to me.” He looked at her, blue eyes meeting pale yellow. “In ways hidden to you. In ways that worry me about his future.” He swallowed then, wondering if it was the right decision to tell her. “Today in the war room… you have felt Constantin’s soul before? The Captain-General of the Custodes.”

“Yes, him. The one who took on the entire warhost I had planned for Aegidius’ guard with a training shock staff. What of him?”

Leman: “Ah can’t be the only one who wants ta see tha’.”  
Horus: “I… Yes, I would too. It would be an amazing distraction from everything else that’s happening in this vid…”

“He joined us. He joined Aegidius, He… proclaimed him Imperial heir apparent.”

A growl and tightening of her fists, “Oh really now? Has he forgotten our son isn’t even a full cycle old yet? His training has only just begun not long ago and yet he thinks he can-”

“Yvraine.” He cut her off. “He _proclaimed him Imperial heir_ ** _apparent.”_** He breathed, worry setting in once more. “Then, he stood by his side as Aegidius attended the meeting.”

“You told me he was only heir in name. There was time for him to grow. Why is he heir apparent **now**?”

“That is what worries me. Yvraine I…” He shook his head in disbelief. “I saw _beyond_ Aegidius’ eyes. Beyond eyes of glowing _gold_. Radiating with utterly unspeakable power.”

She paused, thinking back to the prophecy the seers had proclaimed only decades before the death of the human Emperor. That the return of a shining soul as bright as a star would arise from the ashes of two dying eras, rising from the ashes to lead both to a new age. Some called it the coming of a hero. Some called it the return of a god. Others called it the beginning of the end.

She called it a way to control her boy. She knew that soul, she knew it from the moment it sprung to life. Every day, cultivating it and growing it with her song. Then once he was born, his soul burned anything that attempted to pry too deep into it. Had it not been for the Librarius pulling her back, she would have perished the first days after she had him back. But she never forgot how brightly it burned, how brightly it shone.

She was right. Something latched onto him, something was with him that she couldn’t protect him from. Something so powerful that it burned her husband when he looked upon it. What was more powerful than his-

“What in the dark pits of She-Who-Thirsts did that. What has happened to my child?” She ground out, ready to go and find her son and pry once more. If it scared her husband, then she was determined to get it off of Aegidius, death be damned.

“I have scoured the tomes of the Librarius, including the knowledge of the Custodes.” Guilliman clarified. “I delved as deep as I could, past all the artifice and the sections of redacted knowledge.” He sighed and ran a hand through his curled hair. “The Astronomicon, from what I was able to discover, was not originally meant to be a beacon, but a weapon. One of unimaginable power. One controllable by only one living being. And _only_ when said being is _alive_.”

Oh… oh gods no.

Dread filled every part of her mind, rushing through everything she knew and what she had learned. All of it came together, and her dread turned to pure hate. The only one able to control that thing, was the same person who put them all into this mess in the first place. As soon as the near blinding fury filled her psyche, she could feel his hands tighten around her own, keeping her there. “I will kill that bastard…”

Her thoughts were cut off by a chuckle. A chuckle which soon turned into a full blown laugh. “You can’t.” Her husband spoke sadly.

“I’ll try everything.”

“Then you will kill Aegidius.” He clarified. “He _is_ the Astronomicon, Yvraine. It’s not within him. He _is_ it. That is why he is so powerful, that is why his soul radiates my Father's very being. Somehow, my Father was able to cast the beacon’s power into him.”

“Your bastard of a Father turns him into a weapon and I am supposed to do nothing? How do we know he isn’t just controlling that power, but controls him as well?”

Guilliman turned away. “He was always good at that, you know?” He asked. “Making weapons, I mean.” He clarified. “I am a good example.” He scoffed. “What he was terrible at, as over half of my brothers are excellent examples of, is controlling his creations.”

She scoffed, pulling at the iron grip of his hands and not budging. “There is a difference between someone like you and Aegidius.” Oh, she wanted to go and find her boy and do everything she could to scrape off every bit of that bastard’s influence off of him. But she did not want anything happening to him either… Maybe she should just kill the bastard? No, then the Custodes will want to have her head. “Does your Father even know anything about the effects of a budding soul? Of a budding Aeldari soul?”

“He cultivated me and my brothers. Magnus,” He turned to her again. “I imagine you know of him enough to realize that he knows _very_ much about budding souls.” He shook his head yet again. “No. We mustn't intervene. For Aegidius’ sake we must let things take their course for the time being at least. When the times comes I will confront my fathe-”

“He is using our son! As a weapon, or a tool or… I wouldn’t be surprised if he was squatting in Aegidius’ mind, controlling him or… anything… I can’t sit here and let this happen, Robu…” Her vision got hazy, fury and frustration clouding her as she struggled to find any way to fix this. Frustration grew when she realized she couldn’t think of anything.

“And what can you do about it?!” He yelled, his temper finally broken. “Remember the last time you attempted to dig deep? To go into his very core? Remember the backlash? The shock?” He chided even as he grabbed both of her arms. “Remember how it practically _killed_ you?” He stressed, hoping to get through to her. “If an Aeldari’s mother is not capable of reaching her own offspring's soul. Then that soul is no longer her’s to touch. Not my words. The words of your _own_ teachings. It means the soul has found a greater purpose. It means it is protected by-”

 _“Yngirum.”_ She finished, the shock and true meaning of it finally coming to her realization. “Powers of the great beyond.” She whispered. “A god…” True frustration, tears welling up as she wanted to fight against it but couldn’t. “He’s not supposed to. He’s supposed to… He’s not…” She just wanted to scream, cry, punch, kick- anything! None of this was fair! “I curse your father, I curse him for everything he’s done! I hope he suffers for what he’s done and I hope he never feels the release of death!” She buried her face into her husband’s chest, angry she could do nothing else, smashing her forehead repeatedly at his muscled body in utter frustration as she attempted to come to terms with things she did not want to believe.

Sanguinius: “That was… well…”  
Horus: “Frightening and sad at the same time?”  
Sanguinius: “Yes of course, we all know of Father’s power but… they also managed to talk it out. The life of their only son in danger and under the rule of an immoral father and yet… they _talked it out_ .”  
Konrad: “How the hell did they do that.”  
Rogal: “They obviously love each other and care for each other, share an understanding of their stances, and work as a team. It is not a difficult discipline.”  
Perturabo: “I would slap you for saying the obvious, but since in this case, we needed it, I’m somehow surprised that you know how relationships work. Yet, since you are helping bring us out of this feeling of doom and gloom, I won’t.”

Now, she realized what her husband had felt. What it meant to truly lose everything. To see it all destroyed by beings greater than you. Ynnead had not yet truly come, the final crone sword avoiding her because of this? Was it because her son was destined for something different? For this union to bear the labour of… two eras…

One of life. One of death. To be joined at the birth of one and the death of another…

How could she have been so blind? The very…

No. No… she did not want to think of it. Of the inevitable. Of this cursed existence.

Instead, she looked up at her husband. Knowing how he felt very much the same. Of how they shared the same pain and destiny.

She looked into his eyes and attached herself to his soul. Truly did so for the first time since their wedding night what appeared to be ages ago now.

She felt as he reached back. Both spiritually and physically as they slowly leaned towards each other and their lips connected.

Vulkan: “Wait hold on-”  
Ferrus: “Oh, hell no.”  
Roboute: “Can all of you _please_ stop acting like-”  
Jaghatai: “I am **not** going to sit here and watch you **fuck** an eldar on screen. I have better things to do than watch amateur porn.”  
Mortarion: “...did you just curse?”  
Roboute: “And I don’t want to star in amateur porn! Can someone skip!?”  
Magos Lehm: “Uhm-my lords… the holoprojector…”  
Ferrus: “Don’t you dare say what I think you’re going to say…”  
Magos Lehm: “It is… _refusing_ to skip.”  
Ferrus: “...I’m going to throw it out of the airlock.” *Suddenly has to dodge an empty dataslate fired at his head*

The both of them, deep in their grief and understanding needed comfort above all else at this moment. Desperately needed relief and embrace in each other's arms. Neither could fight against the injustice, neither could say anything to help, only to stand back as the very thing that made them happy was going to be burned for the sake of everyone, everything and for one man.

Finding comfort was all they wanted right now, made possible by companionship and understanding.

Even as they found comfort above the billions who suffered in poverty below them, around them countless planets burned with untold trillions of lives depending on them to lead them. And here they stood, grieving over the fate of one. The mantle on their shoulders weighed heavy as they stumbled back into the palace and continued to find comfort in each other.

**...**

Roboute: “YES! Thank you, whatever merciful entity that stopped this!”  
Jaghatai: “At least we get to see your little abomination again.”  
Roboute: *Rolls eyes* “He’s my abomination. And I love him for it.”  
Jaghatai: “At least you are honest. That, I can respect.”

The void was all around him. It was calm, peaceful, infinite and… He had a feeling he shouldn’t delve too deeply, lest he see something he really shouldn’t see.

 _“Good.”_ Eldrad’s words came into his mind. _“You are in harmony. Finally.”_

“It’s…” Aegidius tried to find the words. “So pretty.”

He heard a scoff and chuckle. _“Pretty. Barbaric High-Gothic. It is Sha’eil child, the beginning and the end.”_

“The beginning and the end…” Aegidius murmured as he extended his mind outwards, truly looking upon the marvel of such a sight and feeling. All around him, he could see the myriad of colors of the beyond, the very space that the Aeldari have traversed for millions of years, being shared with him. For the first time during his psychic lessons, his mind was completely at peace, nothing was holding him back.

It felt as if his body was completely weightless. As if he was striding upon the very stars as his mind threaded through the Empyrean. It was so incredibly full of life. So filled to the brim with a wonderful warmth and promises of comfort and glory…

He reached further, slowly allowing himself to fall deeper and deeper into the trance. Until _something_ at the back of his head snapped him out of it and pulled him back. What the?

_“Young one!”_

“Uh- yes Master Eldrad?”

_“By Isha’s beauty child, you almost slipped too deep! You must be careful.”_

“I’m- I’m sorry!”

Aegidius heard the mental equivalent of a sigh. _“It is fine, you are but a novice in meditation. Though the logic of not bathing yourself too deeply in the energy of the Empyrean should be at least known to you at this point.”_

Roboute: “Well, at least Eldrad was able to get into a trance at all. That is a miracle by itself judging what Father and Magnus have told us.”  
Jaghatai: “...it is… enlightening to see how the Eldar traverse the warp through their projections. That is the closest I’m ever going to get to praising them.”  
Roboute: “Don’t worry brother, no one is asking you to.”

Aegidius frowned and knew that if he could truly feel his body that his ears would be down as well. “I know, I know I can’t go too deep but…”

_“It is a tempting sight indeed, hopefully you at least possess the logic to understand why not to do so.”_

He felt his cheeks flush as he remembered the incident with the Astronomicon and war room meeting. Of how he had managed to-

_“That is good enough for today, bring yourself out of the trance.”_

Slowly Aegidius exhaled, attempting to remember what his old tutor had taught him. Unlatch. Release. Slip away…

Darkness clouded his vision, and he opened his eyes to reveal him in the middle of the comfortable carpet, arrayed with various pillows in the dimly lit spire which Eldrad had taken as his quarters.

Symbols and tokens were everywhere. As Eldrad had put it himself, the room was in harmony to sing with the warp. A feat which had taken him quite a while to do with “Mon-Keigh librarians clouding his mind” every time he attempted something. Aegidius called it him not wanting to clean up his room.

Sanguinius: “...is he a hoarder?”  
Emperor: “WHO IS?”  
Sanguinius: “Father!”

*Everyone turns to look, the Emperor entering the viewing room again*

Emperor: “I’M BACK. WHAT’D I MISS WHILE I WAS IN THE MIDDLE OF COMING TO TERMS WITH ALL OF THE LITERAL BULLSHIT THAT IS OUR FAMILY AND FUTURE?”  
Horus: “Well if you must know. We made up-”  
“Ha.”  
“No.”  
Horus: “-for the _most_ part.”  
Emperor: “WELL, THAT IS GREAT TO HEAR, I SUPPOSE. AND, YES, ELDRAD HAS ALWAYS BEEN A HOARDER OF EXTREME PROPORTIONS. AND INCREDIBLY LAZY.”  
Corvus: “You speak as if you know him personally.”  
Emperor: “BACK IN THE DAY, YES. WE WERE FRIENDS. I MET HIS KIDS, LITTLE NUT JOBS. ELDRAD IS ONE OF THE LAZIEST PEOPLE I’VE EVER KNOWN AND WILL GO TO INCREDIBLE LENGTHS TO AVOID CLEANING ANYTHING.”

“When wading through the Empyrean, you must remember that until you are sufficiently trained, it is unwise for you to delve too deep. Even the most accomplished farseers know not to dive too deeply into the great unknown, lest the attention of our sins lays its eyes upon you.” Eldrad was quick to latch onto an advisable moment, Aegidus’ budding soul could not be allowed to be snatched by She-Who-Thirsts.

“What eyes?” Aegidius cocked his head at his Master, eyes wide and ears lowered.

“The culmination of the sin of the Eldar, the one whom your own mother fights against, the one who destroyed the Aeldari Empire long ago. Their whispers will do anything to drag a budding soul such as you into their grasp. As with any Aeldari, our fates lead to that inevitable destiny.”

He thought about what his Master spoke of but was slightly confused. “What whispers?”

The old farseer paused, then tentatively asked, “Do you not hear them?”

“Hear what?”

Eldrad went silent, thinking back on an old theory he had. This was the second time he had heard of this phenomenon… Were those like his charge and granddaughter unable to hear the whispers, feel the tug of Sai'lanthresh? He knew the Ultramarines had another hybrid amongst their ranks, perhaps he would get more use out of an adult’s perspective rather than a child… “I see.”

Emperor: “WELL. THAT WAS TO BE EXPECTED I SUPPOSE. THE CHILD’S SOUL IS MOSTLY HUMAN, THUS THE UNWRITTEN CONTRACT OF SLAANESH’S EXISTENCE DOES NOT EXTEND TO HIM.”  
Roboute: “Oh yes, in the future I have a half Eldar Astropath in my ranks… I forgot about him for a while.”  
Konrad: “Probably why this cast is so limited on the onscreen- OW! MY HEAD!”  
Emperor: “OH YEAH, HIM. AND AS I RECALL, ELDRAD HAS A HALF ELDAR GRANDDAUGHTER… WOW. THE WAY TO ESCAPE SLAANESH IS LITERALLY TO- NO, NOT GONNA SAY IT.”

The young Emperor wanted to ask more but stopped as his mind itched again and he reached up and was about to scratch when his hand was snatched by Eldrad’s. “Pray tell, why is it that you feel compelled to do that on my fine wool carpet young one?” He did **not** want to explain why having head lice on his carpets was there for some **_cosmic purpose_ **.

Aegidius shrugged, “my head itches a lot sometimes. I think it’s my mind, cause no matter how much I scratch, it doesn’t go away. It’s always in the same place too- **ow!** ” Instead of the itch, now it felt as if someone was slapping the back of his head with a lot of force, including the burn.

“Hah.” Eldrad wondered aloud. “Are you quite sure it isn’t some disease you carry?”

“What? No! I wish. It’s something in my head! It’s being stupid-OW!” A harder smack this time, actually more like a series of smacks.

Eldrad rolled his eyes as he knelt in front of Aegidius, making sure not to dirty his expensive robes while doing so as he reached out with both hands and put both index fingers on the child's temples. He really hoped it wasn’t some parasite, he did **not** want to deal with psychneuein again. Nasty creatures. Glad he was able to dump all of them on some backwater planet all those thousands of years ago.

Perturabo: “Wait hold on, weren’t those creatures a menace on Magnus’ planet-”  
Emperor: “OH. NO ONE TELL HIM.”  
Jaghatai: *Sagely nodding along* “Because we would have to deal with a psychic temper tantrum?”  
Emperor: “EXACTLY.”

He sighed as he connected to the child's mind. “Now, let us see what’s-” His eyes immediately went wide as he connected with Aegidius’ inner mind. It began to spin like a crashing craftworld as whatever was within Aegidius _grabbed back._

He desperately attempted to pull away, only to find out that he couldn’t as his mind was assaulted by voices and power the likes of which he hadn’t felt in…

Angron: *Slams open door* “We’re back.”  
Lorgar: “And we even managed to bring Ragio.”  
Ragio: *Strolling in behind, still frowning a bit*

 _“_ **_Shea nudh Asuryanish ereintha Asuryanat_ ** _!”_ He exclaimed as he was pulled deeper into an astral plane, coming face to face with the burning, all encompassing power of one he had not seen in quite some time.

It swirled like a golden cloud of burning ashes. The skulls flying all around him as he was brought face to face with the being of such power that it hurt to even look upon it.

But it looked at _him_.

It’s gaze pierced his very soul as the fear it sowed almost overwhelmed him.

But at the very least, he now knew what he was looking upon. Or at the very least. _Who._

 _“Anai’thema!?”_ He shouted in sheer disbelief as his soul was grabbed, twisted, and he was thrown, both spiritually and physically away from Aegidius’ mind and body, landing in a pile of old books on the other side of his room, his eyes scarred red. His old, creaking bones grating against his body as he heaved in mouthfuls of air, wondering how in the warp did that happen!?

Ragio: *Instantly spins on his heel, walking the opposite way at twice the speed even as what looks to be a book glides after him even as the doors to the viewing room slams shut*  
Lorgar: “ _What_ THE **_FUCK_ ** !?”  
Angron: “...glad to see I missed nothing.” *Plomps down on throne*

He needed to tell the Regent at once. But first… “ _Lessons are done for today, you may go._ ” He rasped out, still reeling from such a shove.

“Master Eldrad?” Aegidius asked, looking over his tutor who one moment ago was touching his forehead and now was thrown backwards into his pile of books… Oh that had to hurt… “A-are you alright?”

“ _Perfectly fine, young one. Just some broken bones and scrapes. Nothing that I cannot heal myself._ ”

“Oh… I do that a lot too…”

“ _I bet you do, must feel as if you are carrying a tumbling wraith-knight inside of there._ ”

“What?” Aegidius asked. “How did you know!?”

“ _Lucky guess._ ” Eldrad rasped. “ _Run along now._ ”

Aegidius stood up, wanting to help the elder Aeldari and taking a few steps towards him. He started to move the items he could pick up off of Master Eldrad, it wasn’t right to leave him there like that...

Eldrad merely lied there, breathing and thinking it over. Guilliman would _not_ be happy about this. Not to mention that he himself wasn’t sure if it was as good or a bad thing? Well, now that he thought it over… Aegidius appeared to be controlling it for now. Was telling the regent and exposing this whole scandal even worth it?

Roboute: “Yes- I mean- I ugh…” *Facepalms* “Worst reality so far.”  
Angron: “What the fuck did I miss?”  
Lorgar: “Fill me in please because I’m positive I just saw a very spooky version of Father that’s inside of Aegidius!”  
Emperor: “HEY! I JUST GOT HERE ToOO.”  
Horus: “Constantin is favouring Aegidius, we almost tore each other’s heads off during a fight, Roboute presumably fucked his Aeldari wife and now Aegidius is having a lesson with Eldrad and Father just threw Eldrad across the room.”  
Angron: “Why is he in the kid’s head.”  
Horus: “I don’t know, maybe it has to do with the whole, Father is a leech on a child’s soul thing.”  
Angron: “That’s a thing!?”  
Horus: “Yeah, it’s a thing.”  
Fulgrim: “We got into an argument about it.”  
Angron: “Why did I get to miss that!? I wanted to fight too!”  
Corvus: “Give it a bit, we’ll most likely get back to fighting soon enough.”  
Konrad: “No physical blows were exchanged, sadly.”  
Emperor: “I WOULD APPRECIATE IT IF ALL OF YOU DON’T FIGHT, PERIOD.”

He attempted to get up, only to realize that most of the bones in his legs, some of his ribs and even some in his arms had most likely been obliterated.

Well… first he needed to get the child away. He was trying to tidy up the place now.

Sanguinius: “Wow, he really is a hoarder.”  
Emperor: “IT’S ALMOST AS IF NO ONE LISTENS TO ME.”  
Lorgar: “Probably because the last time we listened to you, we sat down for seven weeks and did little to nothing for the Great Crusade and have been spending our time ignoring our flaws and refusing to get therapy and watch vids together.”  
Emperor: *Slowly gestures to the screen and then the entire family sitting and watching vids* “YOUR POINT?”  
Sanguinius: “Lorgar, just. No, stop. We already tried to get into that, let’s not.”  
Lorgar: “Alright. Fine. Let’s ignore it.”  
Leman: “Let’s see how long tha’ lasts!”

“You can go child.” He tried again. “It's fine this way. Adds to the way the warp sings really.”

“Are- are you sure Master Eldrad?”

“Oh yes…” He tried to assure Aegidius. “Fighting off a daemon or two adds to the atmosphere. Just go child, I’m sure you have books to read.”

“Well… if you say so… Do I tell the guards outside anything?” He wanted to ask about that but wasn’t sure if it was wise or not. ..D...Did he have a daemon in his mind?

Lorgar: “Yes.”  
Fulgrim: “Yes.”  
Horus: “Yes.”  
Roboute: “Yes, actually.”  
Emperor: “OH FOR- ALL OF YOU CAN GO TO HELL.”  
Angron: “Sure, Mr. Atheist.”

“Absolutely not, our sessions are private.” He counseled, weakly disguising what had happened.

“N-no, I mean… get you help or something?”

“I’ll be fine. **Go**.” He ordered as he began to get up.

With a squeak and an apology, Aegidius scampered out of the door, wondering what he did wrong **this** time.

The moment the door closed behind him, Eldrad looked after Aegidius, and immediately collapsed back onto the pile of books.

Most obliterated bones so far for sure. If this is what He was capable of at this stage, he needed to keep this from Guilliman, at least for a little while.

Roboute: *Intensive grumbling*

Well, he had a lot of healing to do now. _But at least it couldn’t get any worse_.

Rogal: “He has just performed… a jinx.”  
Konrad: _“Murphy.”  
_ Lorgar: “Really? There is no such thing as a jinx.”

He let his head hit the shelf behind him and began to hear a creaking noise.

Lorgar: “What?”

_What? What now? Was one of those Librarians coming to borrow-_

He saw as the shelf above him began to lean slightly forward.

_Ah. Worse it was._

Lorgar: “What the fuck?”  
Rogal: “I believe the correct set of words to use in this situation is… I told you so.”  
Emperor: “ROGAL, WHEN DID YOU GET SASSY?”  
Rogal: “I am me, and I have always been sassy when the situation calls for it.”

The shelf smashed down upon him. Breaking a few more bones even as he winced and sighed. Reminded him of when his children were all little budding souls.

Well, one thing was for sure, he sure as the immaterium wasn’t cleaning this up.

Emperor: “WELL. AT LEAST ELDRAD IS STILL AS LAZY AS THE DAY I LAST SAW HIM.”

**_...  
Next Morning - Fortress of Hera - Lord of Macragge Apartments  
...  
_ **

Roboute Guilliman opened his eyes, the sun shining in from the blinds being enough to wake him from the most restful sleep he had had in decades.

Sun? Since when did he sleep for long enough to sleep through sunrise, what time was it?

A quick glance at the chronometer next to his massive bed confirmed that he had, in fact, missed the start of breakfast. How? How did he do that? He tended to be up at least two hours before the kitchens even started preparing-

A silent noise of content, followed by the rustling of his bedsheets alerted him to the fact that he was not alone even as his head whirled down, revealing the slender hand of an Eldar drabbed across his muscled bare chest.

Horus: “Ah. Nevermind, Roboute totally fucked his Aeldari wife.”  
Roboute: “ **Shut. Up.** ” *Suddenly perks up* “Say, Perturabo… what is your objective with Rogal?”  
Perturabo: *Looks over, bored and mouth partially open and ready to answer before smiling slowly*  
Horus: “...don’t you _dare_ .”  
Roboute: “Last I recalled, that objective is allowed for others who speak the obvious.”  
Horus: “Yeah, well I have an alcohol-soaked pelt used for choking people with, and I’m not afraid to use it on someone else.”

Ah… that brought him up to speed quickly enough as his eidetic memory kicked into full gear and made him remember every single blissful second of the previous evening.

His wife’s head then popped up from below the cover. Her extravagantly long, platinum blonde hair framing her exquisitely crafted face as she subconsciously pressed herself closer to her husband, nuzzling into his side.

Roboute looked at her in surprise. It had been a _very_ long time since they had been intimate with each other, even since they shared the same bed. The last time that had happened had been during their wedding night, when Aegidius was conceived.

Emperor: “SHE CARRIED AEGIDIUS FOR TWO YEARS, HE’S EIGHT NOW SO WOW. TEN YEARS OF NO SEX. HOW DID YOU SURVIVE?”  
Corvus: “Wait wait wait. How did _he_ survive for ten years without sex… how did you?”  
Emperor: “WELL, FIRST OF ALL, I’M THE MOTHER FUCKING EMPEROR.”

*Entire family groans*

Emperor: “SECOND OF ALL, YOU DON’T KNOW MY LIFE. THIRD OF ALL, THERE ARE OTHER WAYS TO SURVIVE THAT-”  
Leman: “LALALALALALA can’t hear anythin’!”  
Corvus: “No more.”  
Konrad: “I can’t escape these images.”  
Sanguinius: “Neither can I…”  
Lorgar: “I want to fucking die.”  
Magos Lehm: “Me first please my lords. I’ve tried more than all of you combined.”  
Vulkan: “We need you Magos, please stay.”  
Magos Lehm: “I shall endeavour to do so my lord.”

The logical part of his mind told him to get up. He would no doubt already be missed. The reports were most likely already piled high upon his desk and the petitioners lined up through the length of the entire fortress.

But, as he looked upon the face of his beautiful wife, no makeup clouding her features as she slept. Her mind appearing at complete peace, caused jealousy to stab at Roboute’s heart.

Why should he rise now? He had already missed breakfast, what was the rush in a moment more of rest?

Emperor: “CAN’T BLAME YOU. WAKING UP LATE WITH A BEAUTIFUL WOMAN ON YOU? CAN’T TELL YOU HOW MANY TIMES THAT’S HAPPENED TO ME.”  
Roboute: “Can we not learn about your sexual exploits, please?”  
Horus: “Why not? We’re already watching yours.”  
“And hearing-”  
“-about-”  
Horus: “ **_My pelt._ ** ”  
Roboute: “And I’ve already expressed that I did not want to star as an amateur pornstar!”

He attempted to wiggle back underneath the covers, but in the process had apparently caused enough of a disturbance to wake his wife as her eyes snapped open, the gold framed pupils of her eyes flying about in confusion before landing upon his face.

“Good morning.” He greeted softly with a small smile.

Her head rose then and she looked around. “Ah…” She spoke in a rare moment of slight confusion. “I have awoken with you…” She then checked underneath the covers, causing her eyebrows to rise. “...naked as the day I was born.”

“Apparently so,” Roboute confirmed even as he lifted himself and rested his massive body on the backboard all the while stretching his arms. “I will be honest.” He began. “I haven’t had such a good rest in… a while.”

“That is because your soul was and is very tense.” Yvraine breathed, apparently still unsure of what to make of the situation. “We appeared to have… endorsed.” She smiled back at her husband, feeling no small amount of pleasure from certain memories and parts of her body.

“So we have,” Roboute confirmed, still smiling, causing his wife to move like a slithering snake closer to his face.

“You were lovely.” She confirmed, slightly grazing his cheek with one of her hands, before flinging off the covers and standing quickly, letting the chill of the morning air caress both of their bodies.

*A lot of sputtering and angered mutterings*

Mortarion: “I did not stay here to see a naked Eldar.”  
Vulkan: “Neither did I.”  
Jaghatai: *Eyes have glazed over*  
Emperor: “OH CALM DOWN-” *notices Roboute*  
Roboute: *Red faced and hasn’t looked away*  
Emperor: “SON. DO YOU HAVE-”  
Roboute: “WHAT!? NO.”

“However, you appear to have planted nothing.” She contemplated quietly as she sat by her vanity, crossing her legs and began the arduous process of brushing out her very long hair, not caring one bit that she was nude.

Roboute: *Starting to become slackjawed as he obviously stared*  
Jaghatai: “Beautiful, cryptic, knife eared, assholes.”

Roboute, for his part, was contemplative. A daughter or even another son… perhaps it was for the best that no more came into a world like this. He had little time already for Aegidius, another was not a good idea indeed…

“You are not rising.” His wife spoke up again, even as the sounds of her brush filled the air.

“No.” He confirmed, continuing to relax.

“And why is that?”

“I decided to rest.”

Yvraine’s hand stalled mid brush, as she turned to look over her shoulder. “Rest.” One of her eyebrows rose. “You. Rest?”

“Indeed.” He turned to her with an inquisitive look. “Is that so hard to believe?”

Leman: “Ah want ta rib at ye, but as long as the fookin nude Eldar is on screen-”  
Horus: “Ignore it.”  
Vulkan: “I _cannot_ ignore the Eldar sitting ten feet from our brother!”  
Emperor: “BOYS CALM DOWN, IT’S JUST TITS. YOU CAN MAKE FUN OF YOUR BROTHER.”  
Corvus: “No, it’s too weird. As long as that Eldar is on screen, I don’t think anyone can.”

“Yes.” She answered without hesitation. “What has caused this decision?”

Guilliman thought about it. Was it selfish of him to seek some more rest before being thrown to the rabid hounds that were the bureaucrats of this Imperium? And above all… was rest truly the only thing that made him stay?

He remembered. Remembered how beautiful she was the night before. How they both sought and received such comfort and bliss in each other's arms.

“You.” He finally answered.

“Me?” The former Wych asked with the slightest tilt of her head.

“You.” He confirmed, smiling again. “I will be completely honest, I do not think I could have so much as caught a moment of sleep if it weren’t for you.”

She made a contemplative noise. “Which part of me? My presence or my advice.”

Roboute let out a chuckle. Throne, did it feel good to be able to laugh genuinely for once! To even be able to play a game of words which had no deeper meaning than for entertainment and mere playfulness. “The part that makes you my wife.”

Vulkan: “I admit that seeing our brother enjoy and laugh in her company does make it _slightly_ more bearable.”

A small smile grazed said wife’s face as she put down her hairbrush and stood before slowly beginning to walk back towards the bed. “I am your wife.” She spoke in a low tone. “Sworn to be yours.” She reached the bed and leaned on it gently. “You could always have claimed me, I only needed to hear your word.”

Konrad: “Oh no.”  
Sanguinius: “Oh boy.”  
Roboute: “Wait is-”  
Emperor: “MORNING SEX IS AWESOME, YOU’LL ENJOY IT.”  
“It appears that today-”  
“-we witness the debut-”  
“-of a new porn acto-”

*Roboute stands up and takes Horus’ pelt and starts smothering the twins*

Horus: “Get a grip on their necks! That’ll keep them from slipping out!”

She climbed on with the grace of a gyrinx, slithering closer to her husband.

“I could have.” He whispered back as she coiled herself around him like a snake, touching spots with such care that it almost made him go mad.

Ferrus: “Skipskipskipskipskipskipskip”  
Magos Lehm: “It won’t!”  
Ferrus: “Honestly, we should just get a new holoprojector and get rid of this one-” *Dodges the data slate being shot at him*  
Magos Lehm: “It appears to be growling at you, my lord.”  
Perturabo: “Isn’t that tech heresy?” *Dodges the data slate projectile*

“Yet you didn’t.” She whispered into his ear, causing a shiver to go down his spine as it caused him to remember that his wife was, in fact, a former wych no less…

“But you still can.” She whispered into his other ear, causing him to lean in for a kiss.

Only to be dodged at the last second and pushed back onto his bed and be met with his wife's golden eyes, only an inch away from his own.

“Say it.” She whispered.

Emperor: “NOT GONNA LIE… THAT’S HOT.”  
Roboute: “FATHER! Stop lusting after my future wife!” *Pauses as the twins let out strangled malicious laughter* “That’s not what I meant-”  
Emperor: “I EXPECT NO LESS THAN FOUR GRANDCHILDREN FROM YOU TWO!”

Throne… in all his years he had never…

“I want you.”

She smiled. “Kiss me.”

And he did.

Roboute: “SKIP **_PLEASE!_ **”

**…**

Roboute: “Oh THANK FATHER!”  
Emperor: “YOU’RE WELCOME.”  
Roboute: “Just. Hush.” *Lets the twins go and flops onto his throne, throwing the pelt back at Horus* “That pelt smells like a lot of unwashed concubines.”  
Horus: “No one asked you.”  
Rogal: “I know what an unwashed concubine smells like, and no, it does not.”  
Horus: “And you know this how-?”  
Rogal: “I am unsure if you know this or not, brother, but what I have done here is something called a metaphor, or at least just a humorous comparison. I have no idea what an actual unwashed concubine tastes like, nor would I want to.” *Pauses* “But I know what a concubine tastes like, so it is only half correct.”  
Roboute: “Please stop.”  
Rogal: “Foreplay is an important part of-”  
Horus: “ **_Moving on._ **”

The two boys were lying on the floor of the massive chamber of Aegidius’ personal rooms. They were currently looking through multiple tomes and writing on their own datapads, trading ideas.

“I mean, how else am I supposed to fill in four thousand points for this? I can just put in as many guardsmen as possible and use vehicles. I can swarm the enemy and win that way.” Aegidius finished his war list and showed it to Damien, who looked it over.

Perturabo: “Wait… This game seems familiar…”

“Yeah, but Marines are _cooler_. I spent my four thousand points on as many marines as I could, put them on bikes, and power up my sergeant. My list would destroy your list!” Damien showed his list to his cousin who scoffed.

“Have you ever seen anything get past a field of lasguns?” The young Emperor argued, frowning at the idea that guardsmen weren’t cool. Aegidius then looked up to Vlad, who was sulking in the corner of the room, “Vlad! Which is cooler, guardsmen or marines!?”

“Marines.” Vlad answered in a heartbeat, sulking even more. He hated babysitting the brats, all they ever did, for the most part, was sit around and play Battlemace or Regicide… Or read. Why couldn’t they punch each other in the face like regular children back on Terra?

Perturabo: “BATTLEMACE! That was it! My legion and I play that all the time- excellent for battle simulations.”  
Roboute: “He has a lot of books on it, how much does he play?”  
Perturabo: “A lot, if he has a four thousand point army list for fun.”

Palicia had been with them earlier, telling the boys they had time to play before lessons before she had been called away. Same with Palicia, Cato had been called away as well, which left Pupponius standing guard near the door.

“I was called by the sisterhood.” Palicia had told him, making him have to hold back a derisive sigh.

“And that interests me, why?”

She sighed, dealing with Vlad was akin to stepping into a boiling oil bath. “It interests you, since it was the Prioress who called upon me-”

“Again, how does this interest me?”

Counting mentally, she answered with, “I would never be called by the Prioress unless it is of the utmost importance! I haven’t been called by the Prioress before at all in fact, so seeing as how this must be of dire importance, you will have to watch the children.”

She didn’t give him a chance to respond before leaving him in charge of the two boys. He was just glad the little hellion of a wolf cub was with her father instead of here. They tried to bathe her yesterday and he had to hold the girl while they hosed her down. They may have also lost a relic or two that he was not inclined to speak about.

So now, Vlad was stuck here with the brats, and he had no one to annoy. All he had were two annoying children that he wasn’t allowed to pester.

Horus: “He misses her. Adorable.”  
Leman: “We gonna skip over how my kid broke-”  
Roboute: “I don’t want to know.”

Damien stuck his tongue out at Aegidius who pouted at this betrayal. He then erased his list and began working on one he knew was going to be better than Damien’s stupid list. Before long, he was done with a 4000 point army and proudly showed it off with a smug look on his little face.

“Custodes. Four thousand points. I win.”

Emperor: “OH. WENT STRAIGHT FOR THE THROAT. GOOD ONE.”  
Perturabo: “Oh for- Custodes have been broken since 22nd edition and haven’t been fixed since!”  
Emperor: “THEY’RE AWESOME AND TOTALLY BALANCED.”  
Perturabo: “They just sweep the floor of any army! Especially Space Marines!”  
Emperor: “ **E X A C T L Y** .”  
Perturabo: *Experiencing lethal amounts of frustration*

Vlad let out a laugh behind Damien, muttering how the kid was fucked. Damien puffed his cheeks in anger, “Aw come on! Using Custodes is cheating!”

“Nuh uh! Custodes are legal! They’re an army that can be fielded and used, and you’re just jealous that I have a massive army of golden people!” The young Emperor pulled a tome over and showed the Custodes pages, Aegidius raspberried Damien who squawked and looked to Vlad.

“Vlad!” He whined, “Are Custodes legal?”

That caused Vlad to contemplate on what wrong choice he had made in his decently long life to end up here. Why couldn’t he be doing literally anything else at this moment? Why couldn’t Cawl have killed him by accident? He didn’t care about Battlemace in the slightest, he didn’t care about any of this. “Yes, they’re legal. They’re a valid army in Battlemace.” He grumbled out, wondering when he could get back to annoying Palicia again.

Damien thought for a second before grinning and changing his list again. “I sacrifice some of these guys, change that…” He then added a single name in and presented his list again. “Primarchs beat Custodes.”

Pupponius let out a small breath, “Debatable.”

Aegidius looked over Damien’s list, Primarch Konrad Curze did have some really good stats and he could be fielded with his marines… Darn! He can’t put a Primarch with Custodes… “I can’t put a Primarch in the Custodes…”

Pupponius wanted to correct his liege but decided it unwise. He did ask for privacy, so he would respect that.

Horus: “What does he mean by that, Father.”  
Emperor: “NOTHING.”

Then, Aegidius had a great idea! He changed some things on his list and added in ‘Constantin Valdor’ at the top of his list. “Valdor is better than a Primarch! I win!”

“What!?” Damien looked over the list again, “Now that is cheating! Valdor is broken, he’s been broken ever since the 42nd edition! Besides-” He smirked at Aegidius, “He can’t beat the Night Haunter-”

Vlad began to laugh even harder, including Pupponious who face palmed in full armor. Damien was about to ask what was wrong, before Vlad spoke up, “Yeah, no. Valdor wins. Everyone knows that.”

Konrad: “I-I… what?”  
Horus: “Sorry brother, but I think we can all agree that Valdor would hand you your own arse on a silver platter.”

Damien shuffled around to look at Vlad, “What? But don’t you have loyalty to your-”

“Nah, sorry kid. If it was a fair fight, I’d bet on Valdor every time.” He shook his head, “I know a winning hand when I see one.”

Damien pouted, then he turned to see Aegidius who flipped to Valdor’s page, an extremely smug look on the half Eldar boy’s face. “He also has a much higher Weapon Score than your dad.”

Then the two boys began to bicker, causing Vlad to go back to his sulking and watching over the two little gremlins. Damien was going to get himself killed if he just blindly worshiped his dad. Before long, they seemingly resolved their little spat and were happy to go back to discuss their lists.

The two boys then grinned at each other, Damien excitedly sitting up and looking over his list. “Now we just need to make the models, paint them, and then we can play! I’ve never actually painted them before, so how does that go?”

Perturabo: “Well first, it will take them months to paint those minis.”  
Rogal: “No. Just use a can of gold spray and-”  
Perturabo: “You _disgust_ me brother.”

Sitting up, Aegidius answered with, “It’s not that hard. I have models of my dad and mom and I have both an Aeldari army and Ultramarines. The painting is actually kinda fun, you just gotta-”

The doors to Aegidius’ room was opened, causing all four inhabitants to see Palicia hurriedly marching to Damien. Damien was waving at Palicia and ready to start begging for more play time, but was surprised when she just scooped him up by the waist and was already hauling him out of the room.

“We need to hurry, young lord! We need to bathe you and get you dressed in your full formal robes- Pardon my Prince- then we need to-”

“Palicia! What’s going on?” Damien asked as he was being hauled away, still holding onto his list. “I got a bath this morning!”

“You need another one! My lord, I suggest you get up as well, your entourage is here to bathe and dress you for the welcoming parade as well.” Nearby, Vlad was quick to slip past and follow Palicia, already forgetting his sulking and was quick to start annoying her and disrupting her duties.

Roboute: “What Welcoming Parade?”  
Horus: “I don’t know, let’s just wait and see.”

Aegidius was going to ask ‘what welcoming parade’ when he looked to the entrance of his room and saw a team of ten servants led by Big Brother Cato. He then spied in the hands of one servant, it was his… his...

“No! No!” He exclaimed. “Not the full uniform!”

“My lord-” Sicarius began even as Aegidius stood and attempted to run in the opposite direction… only to find himself lunging towards and landing in Sicarius’ arms.

What… the… fu-

“Um.” Sicarius began. “Glad to see your cooperation, my lord.” He then handed the still stunned Aegidius over to the escorting entourage of servants.

“But- but- but I…” Aegidius stuttered as the servants quickly carried him away, feeling for some reason as if there was a smug grin at the back of his head. “But I don’t wanna go…”

“As Emperor apparent, you must be there to welcome your uncle, my lord.” Sicarius lectured even as the entourage quickly walked down the halls of the fortress and Sicarius quickly excused himself and went running somewhere else.

Wait…

“What Uncle?”

Horus: “Bets on which one it is?”  
Jaghatai: “It would have to be someone who would theoretically be there at this time and-”

**...**

Yvraine let out a moan as she collapsed atop her husband, the wonderful aftershocks were still coursing through her from head to toe. “Amazing…” She enjoyed the feeling as her hands moved to caress the jaw of her husband. She did not think that maintaining eye contact throughout the entire time would be so fulfilling.

Jaghatai: “GAH!”  
Horus: “Oh, we’re back to this.”

“Is that all I am?” He responded with a deep rumble that she felt through their closely packed skin.

“I’m not about to start writing sonnets about how perfect you are or writing about how much I enjoy your physique.”

“I will be more than happy with one sonnet if you continue stabbing me with compliments.”

She practically purred as she got closer and placed the gentlest of kisses on his throat, causing his entire body to go as soft as jello. “Will you now?” She whispered, the air from her words tickling the skin of his neck.

“Of course. If a single kiss from you can relax me so, then I wonder how your written words will affect me?” Arms wrapping around her lithe form, savoring the feeling of a soft body against his own.

“Are you truly focusing on written words right now?” She asked as she finger walked down his muscular chest and slowly underneath the covers.

“Merely taking a page from your own book. I can learn how to be a brat too.”

She squeezed firmly making his entire body tense. “A brat?” She asked in an innocent tone.

He could push and make life harder for himself, or he could stop and accept the loving embrace of his wife… But then he remembered how hard it was to get her to pay attention to their diplomatic negotiations before their marriage. “Yes, a brat. You were the one who started lounging on my desk whenever I tried to read terms for peaceful negotiations. Or when you decided to hide the data slate so you could try and seduce-” He could feel her tighter grip now, making him stiffen even more. “...I see you don’t appreciate my humor now?” She twisted, causing him to let out a gasp. “That’s a- no then?” He gasped yet again as she leaned in closer.

“Shut up.” She whispered that all too useful phrase in High-Gothic. “This is not like the time you made a wine pun at me when I spilled that Macraggian red on my dress.”

“I thought… it had flow.”

“You replaced the Aeldari word for wine with the precious liquid that makes offspring possible.”

Leman: *Chokes on his ale* “Good one-khm-” *Continues caughing*

“In my defense, Gothic has a lot more room for puns, Aeldari does not.”

“Perhaps it is because we Ynnari at times prefer action-” She swung over his body with such grace that it made her husband gasp in surprise and pleasure. “-over words at times.”

Emperor: “THE FLOOD GATES HAVE OPENED.”  
Angron: “The fuck is that supposed to mean?”  
Emperor: “ONCE YOU GET A TASTE, YOU JUST WANT MORE. IT’S HOW IT WORKS, KIDDO.”

“I appreciate that notion, very much so.” He held her in place and was quick to paint her neck with more marks of their love, when the door to their chambers was slammed open, causing the two to stiffen in surprise.

“My Primarch, I apologize that I am disturbing your rest, however I have come… to…” Sicarius paused, realizing he was wrong to ignore the Victrix Guard’s warnings and still come for their father.

Lorgar: “Saved by Cato Sicarius. Never thought I would say those words.”

Yvraine sat up straighter, uncaring that the sheets fell from her shoulders and left her torso completely uncovered. Raising a brow, she asked, “Are you here for a show or do you have something to say?”

Sicarius desperately attempted to process what his eyes saw before him. “My lady I- I meant no disrespect-”

“Sicarius,” Roboute began from below his wife, hands motioning for him to speak and hurry it up. “Please, get on with your message. I am currently in the middle of something.”

“Literally.” Yvraine smirked, having to hold back laughter at the poor Victrix Guard’s sounds of discomfort.

“Um… my lord… the welcoming parade is prepared, we await your arrival.”

Guilliman recoiled in surprise. “What welcoming parade?” Is this what a few hours of personal time did? Literally blindside him with a welcoming parade? But… who was there to welcome. “Welcoming parade for who exactly?”

Angron: “You… forgot?”  
Roboute: “I… I appear to have. I don’t know _how_ ?”  
Horus: “Mindblowing sex apparently. Happened a few times to me.”  
Emperor: “WITH WHO AND WHEN.”  
Horus: “What, I can’t have my own personal life? Do I need to notarize every sexual encounter I have and have your permission?”  
Emperor: “NO!”  
Horus: “Soooo… drop it.”

Sicarius spoke. And the words caused Guilliman to throw off the rest of the covers even as Yvraine jumped away and the Primarch nearly smashed through the doors to his wardrobe even as Sicarius quickly turned around and stepped out of the door.

As Roboute ran through his closet, picking up and putting on the finest of his clothes, Yvraine trailed behind, donning a robe all the while brushing out her hair.

“How important is this one?”

“How important?” The Primarch asked, stunned. “One of the absolute most!” He clarified even as he donned a robe and then threw it away as he realized it was the absolute opposite colour of his trousers.

She watched this, wondering how frazzled he was to completely abandon their time and was now attempting to put blue, white and pink together for some reason. She then had a thought that made her nearly groan, “Do I have to come too?”

He turned to her, eyes wide. “You're my wife.” He stated. “I will be damned if you're not there to welcome the Praetorian of Terra.”

Rogal: “I have finally… arrived. I wonder if they are still a part of the Imperial Fist retinue…”  
Perturabo: “Who?”  
Rogal: “Them.”  
Perturabo: “I know, but who!?”  
Rogal: “Them.”

She sat there, wondering if those words were supposed to make her want to come? “Who?”

Roboute donned another robe, this one finally matching, then let out a sigh. “The yellow and black one.”

Horus: “Did Roboute just colour code Rogal?”  
Roboute: “...yes.”  
Rogal: “I approve. It is an efficient way of explaining to your future wife which of your brothers has returned.”

“Ah. Alright, alright, I’m getting dressed.” She practically had to drag herself from the vanity and pick something out that wasn’t overdone or simple or like she was trying way too damned hard.

“He built the Imperial Palace. Defended Terra from Horus. And made some of the greatest fortresses of all time.” He spoke to her as he came out of his closet. “Yvraine… he can rebuild Macragge.”

She popped her head out from her own closet, “Really? He can rebuild all of this?” She thought this through, he must be something beyond impressive if her husband was this excited… “Alright, alright. Help me pick something out so we can go to the parade. You better let me drink later.”

He was just glad she was finally taking this seriously.

**_...  
A few days earlier - Past the Western border of the Imperium Secundus  
_ ** **...**

Aboard the _Nos Nimis,_ things were going as they normally would be.

Her Captain, Belezor “One Eye” as he was named, strolled through her hallways, Iho-pipe smoking as he passed by various knocked out and hungover members of his crew. They had been overindulging over the last few days, but he could hardly blame them. Booty was often and it was good. Traders, refugees and everything else running rampant away from Unknown or even untraversable space, seeking aid in the form of Imperium Secundus.

Lion: “Are we watching… pirates? Why are we wasting our time gazing upon this scum?”  
Horus: *Sighs* “Must be important to the vid.”  
Jaghatai: “As important as seeing our brother lay with his wife.”

He smiled, his young-dry lips stretching painfully as he did so, a mark of overindulgence in iho. But oh… life was good. Ever since he, his crew and his fleet had found this lovely spot in the asteroid fields just beyond the border, life had been utter bliss.

He stepped on the bridge of the old Dauntless cruiser and pulled away the moron who had fallen asleep on his chair. He had a picture of a phallus drawn on his face, which showed how long he was asleep at the console.

Emperor: *Chuckles* “GLAD TO SEE THAT SOME THINGS NEVER CHANGE.”  
Horus: “What.”  
Emperor: “ANCIENT TERRAN TRADITION. YE OLDE DICK DRAWING PRANK. CLASSIC.”

Looking around, he scoffed and pulled out his bolt pistol. A token he had taken from a small group of Sororitas they had managed to kill. He had hoped to take them alive, the Dark Eldar paid well for their kind but fuck, the bitches didn’t go down without putting up a fight, almost managed to gut him too.

Aiming at the roof, he discharged the bolt pistol, hearing as the shell loudly exploded on the roof, waking up everyone around him who groaned in displeasure.

“Up! You lazy bastards!” He bellowed as the crew lazily began taking their stations.

With no small amount of groaning, minutes later the crew appeared to gather themselves enough to take their posts and bring the ship to full life.

“Right, listen up!” He commanded. “We’re hunting today! Ya got that?”

A weak echo of “Aye’s” was heard back, causing him to sigh and rub his eyes. He would kill for a more serious crew at times. His boys did the job, but by the fucking throne, their liver’s would sooner explode then they would stop drinking.

Everyone: *Slowly turn to look at Leman*  
Leman: “Wot?”  
Mortarion: “To be fair, I’m incredibly surprised at how in the hell we are still alive after drinking as much of that stuff as we did.”  
Leman: “Honestly? So am I. Just you alone went through my decade reserve.”  
Horus: “Decade reserve?”  
Leman: “Aye, the amount me and my boys usually go through in about a decade. Though it varies quite a bit, tables broken per feast law and so on.”  
Horus: “I can imagine Magnus would be frothing at that mention.”  
Leman: “It is a valid system!”  
Konrad: “Much like you trying to measure how fucked up a planet is by calling it KONRADS.”  
Leman: “Wonder why that one never got through the Administratum… They almost agreed with me about measuring levels of destruction by ANGRONS.”  
Angron: “Frak you.”

His lips stung from the iho, reminding him how much of a hypocrite he was being.

“Now, bring us up the line, weigh anchor, and set sail with the fleet. Augurs to max range and scan for prey.”

“Aye!” And soon the crew was making the preparations, many carrying what was left of their amasec bottles with them. The displays began to shift as the ship started its crawl away from their hiding spot.

“Out of the asteroids. Nice and gentle…” He heard the helmsman murmur more to himself than anyone else, steering with one arm as his other was wrapped around his stomach.

A massive thunk shook the ship.

“Whoops.” The helmsman murmured and then reached up below his long black hair and flicked on his pair of augmetic eyes. “Forgot me’ peepers.”

Everyone: *Facepalm*  
Rogal: “Piloting a ship without the aid of your eyes is… inadvisable.”

“The next time I find you flying with your eyes off, I’m replacing you with my Jokaero! He can fly better than you can!”

“Ah ya say that Capn’ but what about Nemesis II?”

Belezor let out a humph. “We lost two engines at Nemesis II.”

“Aye, all the while runnin from fucking Space Marines.”

“Because you decided to go and attempt to rob them! You fracking idiot.” Another crew member called out, causing everyone to laugh.

“You saw how big their ship was! It was shiny! And round kinda?”

Corvus: “Are we watching Magnus’ offspring?”  
Vulkan: “Better question. Massive and round ship with Space Marines… only one ship in the Imperium fits that description. And it’s not a ship.”  
Rogal: “Yes. I will appear very soon.”

Belezor groaned. “No, he didn’t, remember?”

“Oh… aye got me faces mixed up again, that was Ol’lucky with me… name didn’t hold up in the end.”

“Aye.” The Captain confirmed even as the asteroid field began to clear up and the rest of the fleet caught up. “A bolt to the back of the head tends to end it quickly enough.”

“Well. There was that one time Baryl and his crew caught onto those black and red marines.”

Corvus: “Now we definitely are talking about Magnus’ sons.”

“Led by a red beauty she was.” The helmsman chuckled. “Fuck. Ship _flipped_ on her side with psychic power. Had to run from that one quickly enough.”

Jaghtai: “Hold on… Does anyone else know how powerful a psyker has to be to do something like that?”  
Emperor: “WELL, MAGNUS AND I DO-”  
Jaghatai: “And he is currently not here due to emotional stress caused by everyone here, but either way… Does anyone else know?”

*Some shrug*

Jaghatai: “...this is why so many of you are against psykers I swear… They would have to have a psychic potential at least half of what Magnus is capable of.”  
Mortarion: “Shit.”  
Jaghatai: “Exactly.”

Belezor sighed one last time and took a tug of his pipe. “We’re out of the asteroid field. Deploy augur probes and let's hunt.”

“Aye aye, deploying probes.” A crewmember spoke and soon enough, Belezor saw as the probes went flying ahead of them in all directions.

It wasn’t long before they got a ping.

“Oooh, shiny one. Heavy too.” The woman manning the sensorium cooed. “Must have a lot of cargo.”

“How big is she?” Belezor demanded. Not very often they got a sighting of a huge ship this early in a hunt.

“Oh, no bigger than a transport or two. Signals aren't very clear.”

That could mean a lot of things. It could be an Imperial Navy frigate or could be an ork junk heap, Eldar corvette, or just a transport. They never found Marine signals anymore, most kept to Imperium Secundus. After those last few times, they knew to not go after Space Marines anyway, too much trouble.

Which is exactly what made this prey all the more delicious.

“Right, Jonny.” The helmsman tilted his head slightly. “Bring us about, let’s go get some food.”

“Bringing her about.” Jonny chuckled and the ancient ship creaked as it leaned into a turn along with the rest of the fleet.

“There she is.” A gunner spoke up. “Got her in my scopes.” He whistled. “A beauty but… she’s painted fine. Got guns too.”

Belezor frowned. “How many?”

“A lot of teeth, pearly white too.” The gunner added on even as the woman from the sensorium intervened.

“Signals reporting back say Hunter Destroyer. It’s fucking Astartes.”

The crew groaned. A missed catch. No matter how gorgeous that ship was, no matter how much they wanted it, they didn’t have the manpower nor the firepower to attempt to take it for themselves.

“But…” The woman smiled, showing broken teeth. “She’s all alone.”

Well, that was a good point. If they were quick…

“Bring us closer.” Belezor commanded. “We do it nice and quick, she won’t know what hit her.”

Angron: “... if that isn’t the most obvious fucking bait that even _I_ have seen then I don’t know what fucking is.”  
Rogal: “...how does copulation-”  
Perturabo: *Slaps* “No.”

The crew immediately began to scramble and man their stations.

“And aye, prepare towing hooks.” The Captain confirmed what everyone was thinking. “We take out her engines and tow her back, ain’t no way in hell we’re taking her without first blasting her apart.”

The crew let out an echo of “Aye’s”. Even blasted apart, Astartes ships were worth a good amount of coin.

“Captain.” Jonny looked back at him. “She’s turning tail and running.”

Belezor smiled. “Must be weak.”

Horus: “Mmm… yeah.”  
Lorgar: *Leans back* “Of course.”  
Ferrus: “Very.”  
Konrad: “ _...they’re so fucking stupid…_ ”

“Possibly.” Jonny murmured. “Daela, what say you?”

The woman from the sensorium furrowed her eyebrows as she attempted to look at the now clearer scans. “Appears slightly damaged, I see lance burns on her hull.”

“Must be a survivor from a battle.” A crewmember chimed in.

“And ripe for the taking.” Another chuckled.

“Aye, if we catch her.” Jonny mused.

“Engines to max output.” Belezor ordered. “We’ll catch her yet.”

“She’s fleeing to the Space Hulk behind her.” Daela reported even as she began zooming out on her sensorium in order to compensate.

“Space Hulk?” Belezor questioned loudly. There hadn’t been a Space Hulk here the last time they had flown by… but well. The warp was more turbulent than usual.

“We’re getting in visual range… surprisingly quick.” A gunner reported.

“Must be heading towards us.” Jonny mused aloud even as the destroyer they were chasing was swallowed by the darkness of the Space Hulk. Were they desperate enough to board the damn thing for safety?

Meanwhile, Daela kept zooming out. How big was this Space Hulk? How big-

Beep.

Wait… Space Hulks didn’t emit signals…

“Captain… I don’t think that’s a Space Hulk.”

Finally, the thing came into visual range, showing that the Destroyer had in fact not boarded, but _docked_ with it.

They saw the largest vessel they had ever seen in their lives, and it was the second time they saw this particular one. Most, if not all, Imperial ships were long and thin when comparing length to width ratios, but this one was always different. Tall, as wide as it was long, rounded as well… Black and yellow. With how many guns were on that ship, it looked like it could fly through a warzone on accident and come out victorious.

And it was barreling towards them at top speed. Becoming so big that Daela had to turn off the sensorium or risk it being overloaded.

“Shit.”

**...  
Aboard the Phalanx  
** **...**

“Sensors have locked on, my Primarch.” Came from the Commodore overlooking the menials work. “To think we’d find them so easily, I had hoped they would have put up more of a challenge.”

“You must learn not to expect much from cowards such as these Commodore Trevaux. Their nature is that of a predictably stupid predator, hunting on mere lust rather than careful need.”

Perturabo: “It’s as if you haven’t changed.”  
Rogal: “Thank you.”  
Perturabo: “Not a compliment.”  
Rogal: *Smacks*  
Perturabo: “What-!?”  
Rogal: *Grins*

“As you say, my Primarch.” The Commodore bowed his head before looking back out of the viewport. “They appear to be turning tail and running.”

“I am hereby taking command of this engagement.” The Primarch commanded, taking the throne that the Commodore quickly vacated. “Bear forth forward lances. Target the enginorium of the primary vessel.” He ordered even as the gunners brought up the systems for the lances.

“And the others, my lord?”

“Marked expendable.”

From his right, he heard the soft clearing of a throat. “Father? Shall I don my armour for this engagement? I have no qualms about boarding this vessel.”

“If you wish to dirty your hands with cowardly blood, my son.” The Primarch gave a lopsided smile. “Then you may do so.”

“Merely seeing this as a precious learning experience. As you have stated, I am still not experienced enough, so why not take this chance?”

“You speak well.” The Primarch mused. “So be it. Go.”

“My lord.” The master gunner spoke up. “Target’s locked.”

The shuffle of clothing and the thump of flesh against his black carapace, “At once. I shall bring you a souvenir to mark this moment.” And soon, he was leaving his father’s side to don his armour. It was time to make his father proud.

Rogal: *Makes an unknown sound*  
Horus: “What was that?”  
Fulgrim: “Turbulence?”  
Ferrus: “We’re in steady orbit.”  
Konrad: “Whatever, who cares.”

“Make sure it is of use.” He called after his son even as he turned his attention to the master gunner. “You may fire when ready.”

Only half a second later, did they do so. The recoil from the lances not doing so much as sending even a rumble throughout the massive starfort that was the _Phalanx_.

“Good effect on target.” Came the robotic response of the servitor integrated into the sensorium. “Six rendered destroyed. Two, immobile.”

“Classify.” The Primarch ordered.

“One, former Cobra class. One, former Dauntless class.”

“Mark Cobra as expendable.”

“Roger.” The servitor confirmed, clicking even as the gunners re-aligned multiple turrets.

“Negative to fire order.” The Primarch ordered. “A waste of ammunition.”

“As you command, my Primarch.” The master gunner bowed his head.

A few minutes later, barely so much as a thunk was heard and felt as the Cobra class was smashed by the _Phalanx’s_ massive armoured side.

The vox in the command throne activated. “Father, we are ready to deploy our boarding action. Awaiting your approval.”

“Go.”

Thankful for the brush against the enemy ship, chains shot from the Phalanx to attach to the Dauntless class, keeping it in place for their brothers. How fortunate that they were so welcoming to a party, especially with them staying in place.

Rogal: *Another unknown sound*  
Mortarion: “There it is again! Where the hell is it coming from?”  
Vulkan: “Maybe it’s an echo?”  
Perturabo: *Gives Rogal a strange look*  
Horus: “Whatever, I don’t care.”

The boarding party was led by a marine who stood taller than them and wore armour that was little different than their own if at all. Only a squad of ten, they were able to cut through the ship and boarded with bolters lined. As with any Imperial Fist, they employed their trademark strategy that hadn’t failed yet. Point, shoot and keep walking.

“I wonder how many souvenirs I should bring? Perhaps the biggest and best one? Or would quantity do better than quality?” The leading Astartes muttered to himself, all the while mowing down any of these pirates he came across. “Well, certainly none of the ones down here. They do not appear as if they’re worth much at all… Maybe higher up?”

“Brothers.” He voxed. “Divert to bridge.”

With cold, emotionless efficiency they began to make their way up, cutting through any and all crew they came across as if they were mere chaf.

Limbs flew, and blood painted the walls. And the Marine was practically _bored_.

Nothing here was even so much as worth thinking of taking as a souvenir. None of the crew appeared to know anything more than that of your baseline pirate. Not as if they were asking but he could see if any were more competent than others. Most appeared content with trying to run for their lives, finding that the stubbers and lasguns they carried had little to no effect on their Mk.X power armour.

“Bridge doors ahead.” One of his brothers voxed as they came to the blast doors which were sealed shut.

“Out of my way.” He ordered calmly as he went ahead, put away his bolt pistol and grabbed the door with both hands.

Then, he pulled. Reinforced muscle strained as the door was pulled back by his own bare armoured hands. Digging his fingers into the metal with fingers breaking and rapidly fixing to compensate, gripping and pulling with the strength his body was capable of. He barely made a sound as the door began to give way, bending to his will as the enhanced, nearly perfect genome of his body fought against the once unyielding metal.

Emperor: “HOLD THE FUCK UP. SPACE MARINES ARE STRONG, BUT THEY ARE NOT THAT STRONG. UNLESS HE HAD SOME ENHANCEMENTS, THEN HE SHOULDN’T BE ABLE TO PERFORM SUCH A FEAT OF STRENGTH.”  
Mortarion: “I have a theory… But I’m going to wait.”

With a groan, the ancient mag locks gave way to the panicked screams of fear on the other side as the marine slammed open the door and drew his pistol, quickly aiming.

Female at the sensorium station. Worthless. A bolt split her chest open, sending her innards all across her station.

Next was the man by the helm. Had two cybernetic eyes and-

He destroyed his head with a bolt as soon as he saw him pulling out a melta gun. Too dangerous. Shame.

And then he saw who had to be the captain. Target acquired.

Said Captain stood and aimed his own bolt pistol at him.

Before he could so much as begin to press the trigger however, the Marine had aimed his own pistol for the Captains leg and fired. It caused the man to let out an incredible howl of pain as the bolt from the master crafted bolt pistol embedded itself in the man’s leg and exploded, blowing the limb clean off.

The rest of the Marines squad made short work of the remaining crew.

“Bring him with us.” The marine ordered as two of his brothers, one clad in the white of an apothecary walked to the Captains side, attaching a tourniquet and searing the wound closed, causing the man to trash about before he finally fell unconscious from the pain.

“Return to the _Phalanx_.” The Marine ordered. “Mark ship for salvage.”

Roboute: “Extremely efficient, I will give them that.”

And without any further orders, they marched away, former pirate Captain in tow. The leader, however, was disappointed. How boring it was…

He didn’t see a single piece or event here that was good enough to make a pun out of.

Horus: “THAT is what he’s mad about!?”  
Lion: “That is the dumbest thing I have heard from a marine so far.”  
Rogal: *Another unknown sound*

**…**

Oh, how he hated standing here listening to an interrogation. Wasn’t any fun to it, just standing, listening and more standing and listening. He only had his armour on for less than an hour before it was off again and now he was standing here just listening to a stupid interrogation.

Lion: “He sounds like a petulant child!”  
Mortarion: “Hmm…”  
Emperor: “STOP IT.”

Well, not stupid, it was important to find out if there are any more pirates around and where Imperium Secundus was. So it wasn’t that bad, all things considered.

Perhaps he could slip away and see how his mother was doing? She usually doted on him and made him feel like his actual age, but he dreaded the idea of him accidentally seeing any of the other women. He was not ready for that at all. Not to mention the fawning, oohing and awing of the concubines, ridiculous.

Konrad: “Wait. Concubines… mother…”  
Horus: “Hold on- Rogal! Why are there concubines on your ship!?”  
Rogal: “They were always there.”  
Horus: “ **_What!?_ ** ”  
Rogal: “They were always there-”  
Horus: “I know what you said! Father? Did you know about this?”  
Emperor: “HONESTLY… NO? ROGAL?”  
Rogal: “When I was found and given my legion, I was told I was able to do anything I wanted with them and my ship within reason. I formed the Imperial Fist Sisterhood to live on my ship with myself and my marines. I do not see the issue here.”  
Roboute: “Well uh… technically Rogal is… correct.”  
Rogal: “I know I am correct.”  
Roboute: “ _Rogal please shut up_ \- Technically he is correct. Father did say that once we have our ships and our legions, we are free to do as we wish with them as long as we continue with the Great Crusade and perform our duties to the Imperium. It nowhere say that we… cannot…” *Lets out a disgusted sigh* “...cannot have a legion of concubines living on our ships.”

*Many keep silent over the knowledge that this is real*

Now that he thought about it, it was not worth it to go through them. He’d rather stand here instead, getting more time with his Father.

The former Captain let out another scream of pain as the Apothecary administered yet another cocktail of stimms. Some for pain, some for truth, some to keep him alive.

They had already gotten everything out of him. They knew his name, how he lived, what he did, how he led his fleet.

But the main question had yet to be asked.

The Apothecary stood aside and motioned to the Marine that “Belezor” was ready.

“We require the location of the Imperium Secundus.” The Marine stood before the former Captain. “Give us this knowledge, and you will be relieved.”

Belezor let out a sad chuckle. It sounded twisted amongst his tears. “Is- is that all?” He managed to blurt out.

The Marine tilted his head. “Yes.”

The former Captain breathed, attempted to speak, then let out a scoff. Then the scoff turned into full blown laughter, causing the Marine to look at the Apothecary who shrugged his shoulders.

“It’s…” The Captain breathed. “It’s right ahead… due galactic east, heading 209, point 7… not even a few hours warp travel.”

The Marine nodded. “Thank you.” No need to be rude, he thought as he walked out of the room.

“Wait! Wait!” Belezor cried out after him. “What of- what of my relief?”

The Marine stood. “Fair point.” He thought about it for a mere second. “It is granted.” He walked away as he heard the Apothecary’s narthecium administer the Emperor’s peace.

He was quick to leave, to find his Father and deliver the good news. After all this searching, all their hardships, they would finally make it to their new home.

After making his way from the interrogation chambers, he finally found his father on the bridge. “Father.” He greeted. “I bear good news. Due galactic east, heading 209, point 7. A mere few hours worth of travel.”

When his father gave him that small, almost not even there smile, he knew he finally did something right. If only he could see it more often...

“Good work. I am proud of you.”

He bowed his head. “I live to serve father.” His smile dropped. “Such work for so little information.”

“But worth its weight in auromite.” The Primarch confirmed. “Ever since my own Father’s death, all of our star charts and warp navigational systems have been completely unreliable. Once trusted warp ways are now leading to death, and lesser-known ones now leading elsewhere. Where once we would see a planet, we now see only empty space.” He then placed a firm hand on Friedrich’s shoulder, “You have done well, Friedrich. It will not be long now before we reach our new home, there, we shall rebuild.”

Friedrich nodded. “Who can we expect to be there father?”

Another of those far too rare smiles. “My brother, your uncle Guilliman most likely reigns as we know.” He stood from his command throne and continued looking out of the main viewport. “The Astronomicon, as faint as it’s signal is, has guided us thus far. I believe that the Imperium Secundus would no longer stand had its creation not had a Primarch’s hand to guide it.”

Roboute: “And we have confirmation.”  
Mortarion: “Called it.”  
Corvus: “Is anybody even surprised anymore at this point?”

The smile returned. “As you say, father.”

It was at this moment that Commodore Trevaux came to the Primarchs side, apparently summoned earlier. “Heading, Lord Dorn?”

The Primarch smiled and reached out with his right, prosthetic hand. “Why, straight ahead to be sure.”

The _Phalanx_ and its surrounding fleet then moved into the gaping hole in reality opened by the navigators. Swallowed whole and leaving behind only floating scrap from an already forgotten battle.

**_...  
204.M42 - Imperium Secundus- Naval Patrol, Relatively close to Macragge  
...  
_ **

They had been on Macragge for only a couple of weeks before they were told to move their training elsewhere. ‘Oh don’t worry, we only want you training recruits! It’s an easy job, you won’t have to leave the planet for any reason at all! Guaranteed!’

That was a fucking lie.

Roboute: “It’s these two again!”  
Emperor: “TITUS PULLO AND LUCIUS VORENUS… I SWEAR, I THINK I KNOW THEM…”

Titus was currently sipping on his recaff, the good kind this time, as he was looking over a regimental standard manual on ‘how to train your incompetent guardsmen soldiers into incompetent guardsmen void soldiers’ and trying his absolute best to sound like he knew what he was talking about. Lucius nearby was going over the manual as well and was whispering corrections to his teaching and he adjusted as needed.

By the Emperor, why were are all of these guardsmen so fracking stupid? How could they not tell he was bullshitting them and just reading from the manual?

Hell, this was his first time reading this emperor damned manual, yet they were treating it like gospel! He was so under-qualified for this job...

Then again. They were some of “the best” for the job. Mostly because over ninety-percent of this regiment had gotten wiped out from a _single_ engagement.

And that is how they found themselves with the ranks of lieutenants. After serving a grand total of four months… butter bars indeed.

Horus: “Ughh… what the fuck?”  
Roboute: *Rubbing his eyes* “To see this is… well, how can I put this…” *He waved one of his hands in a circular motion* “... bone shakingly disgusting disappointment.”

“Lucius, tag out, I need to rest from this. I can’t stand looking at these words anymore, my vision is starting to swim.” Titus whispered to Lucius, who was all too happy to help.

“Right, right. Because sipping on recaff and reading from a manual is so hard.” Lucius quipped, but still took his friend’s spot and picked up where he left off. “You go and watch over those guardsmen going through console protocols and how to not shoot the damn thing while screaming in the emperor’s name if it beeps.”

Ferrus: *Raises hand* “I have… several questions.”  
Jaghatai: “Please. Get in line brother. The idiocy is shared equally here.”  
Lorgar: “I swear that I can _feel_ my IQ dropping.”

“Right, on it.” And so Titus began to rub his eyes, wondering when this would be over and they could go back to sleeping in their bunks.

Currently, there was a protocol reading of an underling reading out instructions on not panicking if something beeps and to not shoot the console, do not spook the people working on the consoles and to not touch anything unless given permission to do so because that will piss off the cogboys, and if you piss off the Tech priests the next station isn’t even the loss of your living privileges, but most likely getting turned into a fully cognitive servitor. Titus thought this was just common sense, but apparently not.

He rubbed at his eyes again, vision swimming from so much reading and reading and ughhhh… He stood nearby and closed the manual and tried to rest his eyes for just a second, before he could hear a beeping coming from the console, along with the terrified screaming of the guardsmen and some of them accidentally shooting their foot with a lasgun. He groaned, opening his eyes again and trying to figure out what was going on now. Who would have thought he would be training people like himself to not shoot their damned foot!?

“Medicae.” He grumbled as the Medicae, a grizzled old veteran, brushed past them to tend to the idiot of a Guardsmen who had managed that feat of stupidity. “Status report.” He kept calm, already done with the shenanigans of his fellow guardsmen. Best to sound official, else everyone would know he has no idea what the hell he's doing.

“Lieutenant! Augur arrays are reporting readings of a large vessel leaving warp space and appearing nearby! What are your orders?”

Lion: “Ah. So that’s why we are being forced to watch these two.”  
Horus: “I’m happy it at least gives a purpose to our suffering.”  
Vulkan: “And theirs.”

Shit.

He flipped open his manual and flew past the colorful pictures for those who couldn’t read, trying to figure out what the hell to do, maybe he should find Lucius, he had no idea what he was doing- He needed time! What gave time? “Establish contact. Demand names and identification, and send out a warning to Macragge command. If they’re this close, then we need to report immediately.”

“Actually, my lord, it appears to be an entire fleet and- and the main signal is getting bigger- and-” A loud beeping was heard as the rune for overloading began flashing, causing the Guardsman to freak out, Titus to facepalm, and a nearby Tech priest to roll by, and without so much as a single word of prayer, press a single rune to make the beeping go away.

“ _Flesh bagssss…._ ” The Priest muttered in binary.

Ferrus: “For once… I agree.”

“Alright.” Titus breathed, more the sake of his sanity than anything else. “Have we established contact yet-”

He immediately shut up as a _massive_ warp tear opened up in front of their viewport.

What came out of it would make his jaw drop to the floor had it been possible. It did in fact cause Lucius’ mug filled with recaff to drop instead, having just returned to see.

“By the God-Emperor…”

“What- what are we seeing?” A guardsman stuttered out.

On display was such a large ship, so fortified and defended that any who looked upon it would know its name. The same name of the ship from legend of the Praetorian of Terra, the flagship of the Imperial Fists. Titus wouldn’t admit it, but he started to shed a tear at how beautiful it was to see this ship in person. Then he had a stark realization as he slowly turned to Lucius who had the same revelation. The both of them felt a haunted look cross their faces as they realized what they had to do.

They were going to have to greet them, being the ones with the highest authority on this patrol. No one else could, they didn’t trust these idiots to not mess it up. They just hoped that they wouldn’t get a promotion for this as well… wait… a promotion would mean they would become Captains… and the motto of Captains was that they were always first into battle...

Oh no. No… No! They did all of this to escape the frontlines! Not go back!

But maybe this was some sort of illusion. A test or merely a holoprojection. It could be all those rations finally going bad...

“Uh- sir! Sir!” One of the guardsmen spoke up. “They appear to be hailing us, using Alpha-Prioris codes, locked to designation _Phalanx_.”

Shit. There went that hope. “Well, what are you doing?” Be professional, don’t let them know he’s clueless. “Answer them!”

“R-right sir! Sorry sir!” Some runes and then contact was established. A few seconds later, the same guardsmen spoke up again, “Sir, they are requesting for the highest ranked official to guide them to Macragge.”

“Well then transmit coordinates and tell them to follow us.” Lucius stepped in, relieving Titus.

“Uh… Actually sir, they’re requesting- no… No demanding that you come aboard and show them. They’re quite insistent.”

Well, they were Space Marines… Titus and Lucius looked to each other and whispered as softly as they could, “We can do this, right? They’re just Marines, right?”

“Totally, just go in, not piss our pants, don’t do anything that they’d construe as heroic and boom! No promotions, and we’re in the clear.”

Emperor: “BET IT ALL GOES HORRIBLY WRONG.”

They fist bumped each other, “Brilliant. This can’t go wrong.”

**…**

How in the fuck, did it go so wrong?

Emperor: “STILL GOT IT.”  
The rest of the family: *Groan at their Father’s antics*

They were supposed to go in, not be completely and utterly awed by a hangar bigger than the entirety of all the barracks that they had spent the past few weeks in.

Then pass by hundreds, _hundreds_ of marines all looking at you so nonchalantly as if you were worth absolute fuck all.

And now, now they were being taken to the bridge.

Well, that in itself wasn’t so bad. Meeting the Captain or Chapter Master shouldn’t be too hard.

That was the plan anyway, until who they came face to face to.

To say that their knees buckled more out of sheer awe more than reverence would be one hell of an understatement.

If they knelt to catch their breath or to show proper protocol was another question as well.

What even was the protocol for meeting a Primarch!? One surrounded by all his command staff no less, all of whom were dressed in the fanciest armour they had ever seen which alone was worth probably more than they would earn in their entire lifetimes combined. This was infinitely worse than seeing Roboute Guilliman himself sitting at a dinner table!

He didn’t even tell them to get up, he just made a motion to them and they simply followed it- or maybe it wasn’t right? Or maybe they were second guessing themselves… All they knew was that this was beyond terrifying and he was speaking and oh no they can’t understand what he’s saying this is terrible why did they think this was a good idea they’re going to piss their pants oh by the Emperor they were messing everything up-

“Hello? Excuse me?”

Like a bucket of ice water thrown onto them, they were snapped out of their rapid thoughts by a very soft angelic voice. Instead of looking up to the Primarch, they were now looking forward to a woman who was smiling at them. “Uh… Hello.”

“You weren’t answering my husband, so I thought it was best I step in and snap you out of it?” She giggled at the thought, it was kind of cute to see them freaking out so badly at just the sight of her Rogy.

Perturabo: “Hus...band.”  
Horus: “Rogal… wed. Wow… that’s a sight to see.”  
Rogal: “I am perfectly capable of forming emotional connections.”  
Perturabo: “Building materials don’t count.”  
Rogal: *Points at the screen*

“Right, yes… your husb… husband…” Lucius couldn’t stand it, he was dizzy and had to be held up by a Marine. Titus himself couldn’t help but be mesmerized at the sight of… such… big… round… They were huge.

“I believe you are here to guide us to Macragge?” She asked, smiling again and causing Titus to snap out of it.

“Er- yes! Thank you, my lady we uh- coordinates are 202, point 2, due galactic north.”

The Primarch nodded, and apparently satisfied turned away.

“You are welcome to stay with us until we reach our destination.” The woman, who was apparently Lady Dorn smiled at them again even as the bridge came alive. Her entire face lighting up like a shining torch, flaming red hair complimenting her sunny disposition.

“It would be a good idea to send forward a hymnal to Macragge to inform them of our coming.” The Marine holding up Lucius spoke even as the Lieutenant managed to get back to his feet.

“Ah, of course my lord…” Lucius said, turning around and saluting at the Marine. “Lord..”

The Marine, who was wearing surprisingly well fitting and highly decorative robes slightly bowed his head in turn. “Friedrich Dorn.”

Lucius lost consciousness soon after that and was sat down on a chair next to Titus’ own. If they ever had grandkids, they were never going to believe the stories they would tell them.

Sanguinius: *Good natured chuckle* “Poor poor man.”  
Vulkan: “I cannot blame our baseline friends here. The presence of a Marine is awe-inspiring alone. The presence of a primechild must be that much more intense.”

The buzzing on the bridge reached an all time high as a bell was heard.

“All engines, full speed ahead.” Titus heard Lord Dorn's command and felt the rumble underneath them as the _Phalanx_ and its surrounding fleet of Strike Cruisers and Battle Barges moved in sync. Then quietly, he thanked his wife, Signy, for snapping those two out of their stupor.

“Far too close for a risk free warp jump. We are going to have to go via realspace. Estimated time… four hours.” The Commodore was heard speaking.

Four hours… Titus thought to himself, envious of Lucius’ current unconscious state. He could do this, he could do this-

Why was there a pair of massive booted feet in front of him?

Looking up, he found Lord Friedirch standing there.

“If it is permissible-” He saw Friedrich's eyes flicked to his rank badge. “-Lieutenant. I have some questions of a personal nature that I wish to have answered.”

Titus gulped. He couldn’t do this. But well… the alternative was essentially fucking off the son of a Primarch so….

“Of course my lord… go ahead please….” He tried to speak with his best voice but it most likely sounded as if he wanted to die.

Nothing, however, could have prepared him for what Friedrich would have said then and there…

“What is the purpose… of recaff?”

Titus unexpectedly found himself smiling. Finally, a subject he and Lucius were the utmost experts on and actually qualified for.

Rogal: *Deep rumbling noises*  
Horus: “Are we sure that the Bucephalus hasn’t broken orbit?”  
Roboute: “I think…” *Looks over at Rogal* “It might be Rogal.”  
Perturabo: “What? Is he broken now?”  
Ferrus: “Use some percussive maintenance and see if he keeps making the sound.”  
Perturabo: “A fine idea.” *Smack*

**...**

After being given what was probably the most thorough bath of his life, Aegidius was dressed up, perfumed, and what felt more like chiseled and artificered than prepared for his uncle’s arrival.

He pouted as he and his escort of Custodes, all draped in the finest livery of the Companions, marched alongside him with all possible haste. Mercifully, he hadn’t even tripped yet! Which was a miracle considering the cape and _five_ layers of uniform he had on at the moment.

He was a little angry that he wasn’t able to walk as fast as he could to keep up with their full strides, eventually asking and definitely was not whining to them at all, “Can’t you guys just pick me up and carry me if we have to get there so quickly? It’s hard to move in these stupid clothes…”

“It would be undignifying my liege,” Pupponius informed him. "Not much longer to go now.”

He groaned again as they walked down the hallway and towards the massive mustering fields in front of the Fortress of Hera where he along with his father and everyone else would await uncle Dorn and his sons as they would march towards them as part of their welcoming parade.

This was so stupid. Why couldn’t they just come and go meet them in the war room or something like that?

But well… tradition and his uncle’s status demanded that his dad gave them such a welcome.

After what felt like miles worth of walking, they finally reached the grand entry hall into the Fortress where, quite quickly, Aegidius sputtered and started laughing.

“You look like a hosed down bat!” He pointed at Damien before succumbing to yet another fit of giggles as the son of Konrad Curze pouted.

He had a lot to pout over in his defense. It took no less than three baths in a row, an entire container of gel, and countless other cleaning products but… Damien was _completely_ clean. His hair slicked back wonderfully all the while he was clad in a dark blue uniform, tastefully highlighted with parts of purple and black.

Leman: “He looks as if a bloody canid licked him clean.”  
Lion: “You would know about that.”  
Leman: “Ah swear, you must have cat DNA.”  
Emperor: “CLOSE ENOUGH.”

And Damien hated every second of it. Why couldn’t he just meet his uncle in whatever he was wearing earlier? He met uncle Guilliman while only wearing a towel… Palicia absolutely screeched at that and told him about how terrible it was that even happened and protocol and blah, blah, blah...

“My liege.” Pupponius interrupted Aegidius giggling fit. “Your father will be here momentarily, we must go.”

Damien meanwhile took this opportunity to sneak up on his cousin, and was about to playfully punch his arm when he heard the word “father”, causing him to instead begin to look around in hope, only to see…

“Vlad! Did you see dad around?”

He heard as the Marine sighed. “No kid, the Primarch is busy elsewhere.”

“Aww… come on…” Damien whined, saddened that unlike ‘Gidius, he wouldn’t even get to so much as _see_ his dad. He would give anything to spend time with him.

Konrad: “Ugh. why is he so insistent on being around me?”  
Roboute: “ **Because he loves you.** ”  
Konrad: “That’s his problem.”

He quit his whining immediately when Palicia tapped him on one of his shoulders and motioned for him to get a move on, which he did, albeit with the pout still on his face and- wow!

They exited the entry hall to see Macragge Magnas Civitas wrapped in absolute splendor. Did it always have banners coming off of bridges? Was the main street always this clean? How did they clean it so fast? Why did they let it get dirty in the first place? Wait… why clean it at all if it was always dirty and why were there Ultramarines and Guardsmen on each side going down the entire length of the street? That would just make it dirty again no? So what was even the point of all this in the first place?

Aegidius for his part thought it looked awesome. He had the Ultramarines painted in that cool looking formal stuff that they wore and the city looked great and even the Eldar were at the stairs where they would welcome his uncle and-

Lion: “I have to say, brother, your sons clean up nicely.”  
Roboute: “Mhm. Thank you brother, there is a certain joy in seeing that not everything has gone completely to hell.”

“Dad! Mom!” He squealed as he launched himself as both his mother and father at the same time, taking the rare opportunity of being able to hug both at the same time. They caught him, holding Aegidius between them as both were happy to have their son in their grasp, but remembering their revelation.

Roboute: *Smiles and leans back, happy*  
Mortarion: “More sappy things we have to sit through.”  
Emperor: “THE KID HAS A LIFETIME OF ISSUES AND PAIN TO GET THROUGH, LET HIM HAVE A MOMENT.”

His father did his utmost best to put him down as gently as possible, considering the already massive gathering crowd and noticing- “Aegidius, where is your laurel?”

Aegidius felt as both of his ears folded back and he looked down. “I uh… lost it…” He could feel Alorynis leaving his mom’s side and brushing up against him, the large creature that was almost as tall as him letting out a deep purr.

His father tilted his head all the while his mother shook hers. “Nice try.” He heard his mother speak even as the pointed behind him, causing Aegidius to turn and see Pupponius holding said tiny golden laurel which marked him as prince even as a couple of Aeldari managed to convince the Gyrinx that it was better off away from the festivities.

“But mom… it makes me look stupid.”

“It’s your mark of office Aegidius.” His father chided him gently, not wanting the various representatives around them to hear him lecturing his son and ignoring his wife who was _very_ obviously giggling. “You don’t need to wear it for long, just until you greet your uncle.”

“Then I can take it off!?” His ears pricked up again, excited little pants coming from him.

“We’ll see, just put it on already.” Trying to discreetly get his son to wear his laurel and hoping no one would make a huge fuss over his apparent lack of control over his boy. It did take quite a few tries to get it on him, since his ears were flapping excitedly at the mere idea of running around and tearing off his ceremonial clothes. He merely hoped he didn’t decide to run around naked again like when he was two.

Fulgrim: *Flashbacks* “Oh… Oh, that isn’t exclusive…”  
Roboute: “Pardon?”  
Fulgrim: “I thought it was just Rosie who was fussy about getting dressed and wearing all of her cute accessories… But apparently, even boys do the same thing…”  
Roboute: “Didn’t you teach Konrad how to be civilized?”  
Konrad: “Fuck you.”  
Fulgrim: “Yes, but there is a difference between an insane mental patient and a child.”

“Oi, how ya doin brother? Came as soon as I could.” Leman Russ strode to the top of the stairs, clothed in the finest Fenrisian clothes. Which was mostly just a thunder wolf pelt and some colorful garments. His wee daughter held in arm, looking presentable enough with her braided hair and dainty dress, which she hated.

She had a huge frown on her face the entire time, muttering about itchy dresses and hated baths and especially about how she couldn’t wear her pelt or being forced to wear slippers instead of her boots. Even worse, her da’ wouldn’t put her down! Something about her being a “hellion” and “ruining everything”.

As her da’ began talking to the blue uncle though, she looked down to see… ah, glad to see the pointy eared one was here. She blew a raspberry, causing him to look up and make a face back at her.

She then brought her hands to her face and pulled both sides to make a face at him, which made him taken aback before using his hands to make a worse face at her.

Fulgrim: “Rude.”  
Leman: “Ha. Good one.”

Uncle Leman then turned in such a way that it swung Freya away from Aegidius, placing her down beside him and giving her a look that dared her to run off and cause trouble.

Not as if their attention would be on each other for much longer though, because as Damien so wonderfully pointed out… “Oh my Night Haunter! Is that the _Phalanx!?_ ”

Up in the sky, just barely visible through the early morning fog was the distinct outline of the massive starfort as it slowly lowered itself into the low orbit of Macragge. Damien had started to collect those trading cards about Imperial Crusade marines and weaponry and he had a card all about the Phalanx and he memorized all the facts on it and- and-

Konrad: “Trading cards?”  
Emperor: “EH, GOOD WAY TO GET EXTRA FUNDS AND DRUM UP SUPPORT FOR THE IMPERIUM AMONGST KIDS. DON’T KNOW WHY KIDS GO CRAZY OVER LITTLE COLLECTIBLES LIKE THAT, BUT IT’S EXPLOITABLE.”  
Angron: “Ugh… typical.”  
Emperor: “MERCHANDISING IS A GREAT WAY TO MAKE MONEY. AND IT’S FREE PROPAGANDA. WE CAN’T ALWAYS EXPECT EVERYONE TO PAY US IN GOOD WILL OR THREATS FOR LOSS OF LIFE BY BOLTER.”

“I heard so much about it! Did you know it once almost carried the entire seventh legion? I heard it can smash through anything and nothing ever stopped it and-” Damien’s rant was blissfully cut off by the sound of hundreds of bells as they began to toll all across the city, heralding the beginning of the grand welcome.

Konrad: “Never thought I would say this but… I think I like bells.”  
Corvus: “The day Damien is gone, is going to be the day you start missing him.”  
Konrad: “Fat fucking chance.”

And just as Damien heightened his voice to match his level of excitement, the music began to play. Hundreds of men and women in marching bands playing various hymn’s and marching music to mark the occasion even as the airspace was completely taken up by various fighters of the Imperial Navy and multiple Space Marine Chapters even as the various Administratum clerks sent up countless servo-skulls in an attempt to record anything and everything they could.

The mood was elevated to another plane of existence entirely when Aegidius spotted the Parade of Faith on the opposite end of the massive street as they began to make their way to them, their censers swaying and belching sweet smelling incense all the while being accompanied by countless cyber cherubim, all of which made Aegidius’ skin crawl. Even if they were accompanied by very pretty Sisters of Battle, all of whom were dressed in their power armour as they escorted the various religious figures down the street whilst singing reverent hymns.

Lorgar: “I still feel… kind of wronged.”  
Roboute: *Cough* _“Plagiarism.”_ *Cough*

They were followed by multiple regiments worth of veteran Guardsmen, all bearing their battle standards high even as they stood aside and assumed a parade stance as they awaited the true participant of this parade.

On the top of the stairs, a massive group of important people had gathered. Various Chapter Masters, which would include Lord Calgar himself would he not be on the field, the Prioress herself stood in attendance along with her sisters, multiple Lord General’s, a few Solar and Lord Admiral’s, representatives of the Adeptus Mechanicus and even grumpy old Inquisitor Lord Hector Rex. Strange… Aegidius never saw him nowadays… even Master Eldrad was here, though he was leaning very heavily on his staff for some reason...

Then he heard as the war horns blew in the distance and slowly but surely, what felt akin to almost an earthquake rumbled through Macragge as Aegidius saw utmost splendor and could _feel_ Damien trying desperately not to pass out from the excitement of what they were seeing.

 _Hundreds_ of Imperial Fists dressed in their finest of livery. Dreadnoughts marching alongside them along with multiple other colored Astartes.

It caused Aegidius to recall his Battlemace manuals and know that they were Crimson Fists, The Hammers of Dorn who looked like they were in utter bliss, Sons of the Phoenix, Subjugators… _thousands_ upon _thousands_ of Space Marines, chapter after chapter. It could cause a baseline to go mad… and it did. The crowds gathered alongside the parade cried and cheered in utmost reverence, some having to be held back from throwing themselves at the Marines by the Arbites and Guardsmen.

Rogal: “This does… bring a smile to my face.”  
Perturabo: “Is it so because there are no Black Templars in the para-”  
Rogal: “ **Yes.** ”

But if that was enough to drive them mad. What they saw next made some, by comparison, go positively rabid.

Rogal Dorn, Praetorian of Terra, the Primarch of the Imperial Fists, the seventh son of the Emperor himself, standing on an elevated platform that was being driven forward by countless servitors, standing with him was his entire general staff, a somewhat standard looking marine, a well dressed woman and… two guardsmen?

Roboute: “Oh…”  
Horus: “Well, that one didn’t take long.”

But that wasn’t the point. The second uncle Dorn raised his mechanical right hand, the crowd _erupted_.

Most fell to their knees in reverent prayer. Others had to have their skulls caved in by the arbites, going mad at the sheer sight of seeing the living legend that was the Praetorian of Terra returned. Even some of the Eldar who were watching had to admit that looking upon a Primarch of legend was certainly… enlightening.

As the parade finally reached the massive semi-circle shaped gathering area in front of the stairs, the Astartes escorting Rogal Dorn fanned out in a brilliant display of choreography and military discipline, before presenting their arms and the banners of their ancient chapters, the oldest amongst them even dating back to the times of unity war Terra.

As they came to a halt, the massive moving platform carrying the Primarch did as well and soon thereafter, the Primarch, along with his considerable number of escorts, dismounted and moved towards the stairs. Rogal Dorn himself flanked by multiple Huscarls, some in ancient and revered Cataphractii pattern terminator armour, others in the modern Mk. X models. The old and the new marching together.

As they reached the stairs they began to ascend until they finally reached the top, the Huscarls spreading out as the Primarchs himself stepped closer to Roboute, stopping at arm's length.

“Brother.” Rogal greeted.

“Brother.” Roboute greeted back, their arms reaching out and hands grasping their forearms, a warrior’s greeting as old as humanity. “I have not seen you since the final years of Terra.”

Rogal made a noncommittal sound, thinking back on the years before the fall of Terra was a tough subject to tackle even when alone. “Indeed.” He gave Roboute’s arms a final squeeze before letting go. “Much has happened since we last saw one another.”

“Quite.” Roboute reached out and put a hand on his brother's back, to lead him towards the Fortress of Hera, “A great many changes, beneficial and detrimental. From how long it took you to get here, it’s redundant to point out how you yourself have experienced some of those changes.”

“Horribly so.” Rogal agreed, recreating star charts and warp way maps have been enough to cause the Praetorian many sleepless months. “As you can see, I have some beneficial changes as well, something you are familiar with.” With a gesture, the woman and the larger marine stepped forward. “My wife, Signy, and my son, Friedrich.”

The red-haired buxom beauty slightly bowed, “An honour to meet you, Lord Regent.” When she straightened up, she placed a hand on the Marine’s arm, causing him to bow as well.

“I am Friedrich Dorn, a pleasure uncle.” He then reached up and gave a tiny wave, making Guilliman blink a couple of times before deciding to just nod.

Sanguinius: *Kind hearted chuckle* “His father’s son.”

“An honour.” Guilliman finally spoke as they moved down the line, greeting Marine after Marine. Others, such as Captain Tor Garadon Guilliman had already met, now over a century ago, others such as Captain Heyd Calder he could recall sending orders to, and was glad to see that they had risen in rank.

All going nice and smooth until...

“The two Lieutenants that did the fine job of guiding us here,” Rogal explained. “And took upon themselves the arduous task of entertaining my ever curious son’s many questions. Titus-”

“Titus Pullo and Lucius Vorenus.” Guilliman finished for him, looking down at the two Guardsmen in surprise. “Lieutenant’s. A swift rise through the ranks for you two, it appears my placement of you was correctly judged.”

Jaghatai: *Spits out the fermented milk he is drinking, trying hard not to laugh* “ _Judged correctly._ ”  
Leman: “Uh brother… what is it you are drinking?”  
Jaghatai: “Chogorian Isgesen.” *Reaches out with the bowl* “A taste?”  
Leman: “Well don’t mind if I do.” *Sips some and immediately spits it out* “By the all the wolves of Fenris, it tastes as if I’m licking Freki and Geri!”  
Jaghatai: *Chuckles* “An acquired taste.”

Just as the two Guardsmen attempted to speak through their slack jawed mouths, along the line came Freidrich, putting a massive hand on each of the Guardsman’s shoulders. “They performed their duty to the letter. And whilst duty is it’s own reward, their competence has given me a rather selfish wish I am afraid.” He looked up with a stone face at his newly met uncle, who’s eyebrows rose.

“Speak.” Guilliman motioned for him to continue.

“I wish to request the re-assignment of these two Guardsmen as my personal Adjutants to the Astra Militarum.”

Horus: *Lets out a laugh* “It’s just bad comedy at this point.”

Titus and Lucius looked to each other, quickly and quietly gesturing to themselves, to the Primarch, to Friedrich, and at the situation. While Titus was near the verge of tears and hoping he wouldn’t embarrass himself in front of everyone again, Lucius was trying to figure out what to say to politely refuse and go back to their jobs while also not inviting them to lose their head attachment privileges...

“Granted.” Guilliman spoke happily. “Always glad to see service fulfilled so well. But, a legion heir having mere Lieutenants as adjutants...” Guilliman appeared to think on the issue for a few seconds. “Guardsmen, congratulations on your promotions to the rank of Captain, henceforth you report to Lord Dorn himself.”

Titus couldn’t help it and began crying, no, outright bawling at the idea of more work and more responsibilities. He was barely even able to train those recruits! Now he was to be a captain and an adjutant to Young Lord Dorn… Lucius was contemplating just throwing himself down the stairs, hopefully breaking his neck and ending it all, but couldn’t leave behind Titus… Titus cried too much and needed him to be around to make sure he didn’t piss his pants. And Titus kept him from killing himself so… they both feel back on what they called old reliable, a stiff salute.

Guilliman, the Dorn’s, and others then moved ahead, leaving behind the pair of saluting, crying, very unhappy Guardsmen.

Vulkan: “I wish to see more of these two.”  
Horus: “ _Why_ .”  
Vulkan: “They bring me happiness.”

As they came to the ones next in line, needless to say that he needed no introduction.

“Brotha’!” Came a wolfish voice as Rogal was pulled into a hug by the laughing wolf. “Tha las’ time ah saw ye, yer still had two hands!”

“How… observant of you Leman.” Rogal spoke, not reciprocating the hug but finding it very hard to keep a smile from forming on his stony face.

“Exactly. Tha’s how long it’s been since ah saw ye! Ah hear yer got a son! And married too!? Never thought yer had it in yer, honestly…”

Rogal now hesitantly patted Leman on the back, a deeper part of him admitting that he had missed his stubborn wolf breed of a brother. “Necessity is the bearer of many innovations,” Rogal spoke even as he reached behind him, and pushed forward Fredrich with a hand on his back. “My son, Friedrich.”

Leman immediately looked down at the boy into his eyes and grasped him by both shoulders before grinning. “Still breed them tough in the Fists do they?” He laughed openly before moving onto the boy's mother. “My my. And the beauty of Inwit still stays the same.”

Signy gently bowed her head even as Leman looked behind and…

“Oh for fuck’s sake!” He bellowed. “Equerry!”

A few seconds passed with no response, causing Leman to let out a swear in Fenrisian. “I swear, sometimes I regret my choices.” He then reached down behind him and pulled out a tiny ball of fur. “Well, yer’ showed me yours, I’ll show yer’ mine.” He laughed at the inappropriate, weak jest as he extended his arms by a little. “This little cute ball of fur is Freya.”

Leman: “HA.”  
Lion: “You must be the only one here amused by your future self.”  
Leman: “Whatever, I have a daughter. I don’t care.”  
Lion: “A single daughter out of countless years… You must be impotent.”  
Leman: “I’ll have yer’ known ya grinning cat, I am fine and _fair_ to the maidens I bed, by usin’ protection!”

Freya was sporting a huge frown, hating how her da’ kept picking her up like a small bag of rocks. “Freya.” She turned to her father, the frown getting bigger. “Put me down.”

“If ah do, yer’ gonna run off and cause trouble. Ah’m not lettin tha’ happen.” He grinned at Rogal, “Did yer know that this one ‘ere trie to attack Roboute’s kid and got Constantin to threaten ‘er?”

A genuinely stunned expression graced Rogal’s face. “Roboute. A son?” He managed to choke out. “Wait… Constantin? He lives?”

“Yer saw the eldar and the boy behind him, didn’t yer?” Leman grimaced, “It’s fine, ah still can’t get used to him and his… uhh… taste. Nor tha’ kid being proclaimed-”

A throat being cleared was heard from behind the brothers. “Is it so hard to believe I was capable of siring a child?”

Emperor: “YES.”  
Horus: “Yes.”  
Mortarion: “Yes.”  
Angron: “Yes.”  
Lorgar: “Yes.”  
Roboute: “Just say it at the same time why don’t you? Will save you the time of sounding like a bunch of pricks.”  
Jaghatai: “Ooo, good one.”  
Roboute: “I hate all of you.”

He swore this was almost as bad as during the time of the Great Crusade when Leman wouldn’t stop making fun of him for his… lack of conquests. Roboute asked as he motioned further down the line, deciding to tackle the proclamation when he had Constantin’s word to add in the defense.

“It is surprising, yes.” Rogal thought for a second, “I was under the impression that you were useless when it came to the art of seduction and that even Perturabo had a better chance than you.”

Perturabo: “I am unwed and unbedded by my own personal choice dammit!”  
Rogal: “Uh huh.”

Roboute didn’t let the smile on his face fall, though he sorely wished he could turn around and not deal with this childish ribbing. “Yes, yes. I have proven otherwise, are you done?”

“Perhaps. Why a xeno of all people?” Rogal asked with a hard look in his eyes, wondering what the hell was Roboute thinking.

“It was part of the terms of the Treaty of Eden and it is not nearly as terrible as Leman makes it out to be. I understand you do not have a great love for the Aeldari, but please… We are trying to work together. My son is even half Aeldari, for Father’s sake.”

Rogal let out a small noise of indifference, though he wished to argue this point more, there was a time and place for everything. Luckily, that was now.

“Brother.” Roboute continued as they were fast approaching the end. “My wife, Yvraine, the herald of the Eldar god of Death, Ynnead.” One look at her ears and he already knew she hated him. _Please, please, please don’t do anything stupid…_ He thought.

She smiled at Rogal, though her ears were flattened back, like an angry feline who was staring down something she really had no interest in, her eyes shining with false warmth. “A pleasure, to be sure.” She didn’t bow, nod, or show any deference, merely continued to look him straight in the eye.

A stare as cold as the marble they walked on was all that greeted her as Rogal moved on. Causing Yvraine to feel perhaps a small spike of worry. A Primarch that could weather her stare was not to be taken lightly. Not to even mention the fact that his emotions were completely unreadable.

Rogal: “She asked for it.”  
Roboute: “But did you have to give her the brick stare?”  
Rogal: “Yes.”

She placed a hand on her son’s head, keeping him behind her as she continued to stare down the Primarch. Roboute nearby already regretting this, but knowing it was too late to back out now.

“My son.” Roboute finally spoke in hesitation. “Aegidius Guilliman, my legion heir and according to the Custodes themselves and their own words… future Emperor.”

One moment, Rogal was staring down the xeno witch who dared to stare him down, then the next, he was glaring at Roboute. “ **Pardon**.”

Emperor: “HERE WE GO AGAIN.”  
Horus: “Oh, this is _not_ gonna be fun.”  
Roboute: *Already reaching for the ale*

Roboute attempted to weather his brother's stare, even as he sighed. “Not according to me brother, according to-”

“Me.” Came the steeled, distinct voice of Constantin Valdor as he stepped between Aegidius and Rogal. The child looking up in fear at his new found uncle, standing behind his mother and wondering if everyone was going to fight.

Though he knew better than to question the orders from the Captain-General, in this, he had no other option but to question. “Why.” Rogal looked down to the boy who was peeking from behind his mother, letting out a terrified squeak as he hid fully behind his now simmering mother.

“It was the Emperor’s final order to me,” Valdor explained. “You will not question his word, Lord Praetorian.”

“Father is dead.” Rogal spoke with all the taciturn of a brick.

Emperor: “NO NO, PLEASE, SOFTEN THE BLOW.”  
Konrad: “Oh for- It’s been said a bunch of times by now. Get over it.”  
Emperor: “I WILL TAKE THE NEWS AT MY OWN PACE.”

“But not gone.” Constantin clarified, now staring into Rogal’s eyes even as the Praetorian stared back, before finally looking down at the boy.

Emperor: “WAIT WHAT?”  
Jaghatai: “It has been heavily hinted that you did not die completely.”  
Emperor: “I KNOW, BUT WHAT THE FUCK DOES CONSTANTIN MEAN ‘NOT GONE’ LIKE, THE SHIT? I DIDN’T TEACH HIM TO BE THAT IMPRECISE.”  
Horus: *Snort of disagreement*

Slowly, he went to one knee, almost falling to Aegidius height yet still towering over him. “Come here.” He told the boy who was being shielded by his mother.

Yvraine would never let him go, not so long as he lived. This madman wouldn’t hurt-

Her thoughts were derailed by her husband grabbing her shoulder and looking at her with a face that spoke “trust me.”

Torn, but ultimately trusting of her husband, she looked down and gently gave Aegidius a push, who, apparently by himself, walked to the Praetorian flinching as the stone cold eyes found him. The back of his mind burning intensely as his vision blurred.

For a minute, the Primarch merely looked at Aegidius, so intensely that Aegidius thought he would faint. And just when he thought that might happen…

Roboute: *Getting more and more nervous and about to complain loudly*

“My Emperor.” Rogal gently bowed his head, before rising, an unidentifiable look on his face. “I recognize him.” He spoke as he turned to Roboute, who let out a breath that he did not know he was holding. More difficult than Leman, but only by a small margin…

Roboute: *Lets out the breath he didn’t know that he was holding*  
Leman: “Wot jus’ happened?”  
Jaghatai: “We’ll tell you when you’re older.”

Aegidius for his part felt as if his heart would explode from his chest, seeming as how hard it was beating even though his mind was completely calm. What was happening? Why did he move by himself again? What was the itching at the back of his head? And why-

His thought process was violently derailed as a massive hand was reached down in front of his face.

“My Emperor.” Came a calm voice, causing Aegidius to look up and see Friedrich. “Fate has made us cousins, I am glad.”

Aegidius reluctantly shook Frederich’s hand. “Uh- uhm nice to meet you too?”

Horus: “At least he’s polite.”  
Fulgrim: “I just hope he isn’t going to have any bad influence from Rogal…”  
Rogal: “Pardon?”  
Fulgrim: “Concubines.”  
Rogal: “I do not see your point.”  
Fulgrim: *Sighs* “Exactly.”

A squeal alerted him to the distinct presence of a woman, even as said female knelt in front of him, bowing her head. “My Emperor.” She then looked up at- “You have the cutest looking boy I have seen Lady Guilliman.” Signy smiled. “Reminds me so much of little Frederich here.”

Corvus: “Heh. Little.”  
Emperor: “ALL CHILDREN ARE ALWAYS LITTLE IN THEIR PARENT’S EYES.”

Yvraine was taken aback, the emotions radiating off of this woman were throwing her off. Her husband was one she would need to keep an eye on, though with the lady readily giving friendship… That would make it easier. So she smiled and agreed, “yes, Aegidius is the cutest boy. Please, do tell me all about your Friedrich,” She reached a hand out to Signy, “I would love to hear everything about him.”

Signy took the Aeldari’s hand, ready to speak but knew the Aeldari was playing a game with her. Let’s see how far she’ll go thinking she was an air headed bimbo…

Roboute: “Can’t you go one day without trying to psychoanalyze someone, Yv…”  
Leman: “Now yer’ lecturin’ yer’ future wife. I think we reached a whole new level here.”  
Roboute: “I have not lectured the vid before! I am just making comments. The day I stand up and forget I’m speaking to a vid and full on lecturing it will be the day you can smugly tell me you told me so.”

Meanwhile, the retinue continued down the line and reached- “And who is this young boy?” Rogal asked, looking down at the boy that reminded him of a certain brother and was flanked by a Sister of Battle and a Marine that looked like a Night Lor-

Horus: “I think Rogal might be on the verge of breaking in that moment.”  
Konrad: *Stuffing his ears already*

“This is… Damien.” Roboute began, stopping as he saw Rogal’s intense look. “Son of…”

“Konrad!” Leman’s trademark voice came from behind as he joined the two. “Can yer’ believe it? Not only did he manage to find a woman to lay wit’ him, but turns out, the bastard came crawling back during the heresy! Said he regretted it all heh.”

Rogal was sure he was in an alternate timeline and he must have either died or gone insane. “And you… **allowed** this?”

“Not as if I had much of a choice, brother.”

“You could have chosen sanity and logic.”

“Yes, but instead I chose survival and existence.” Roboute argued. “It was the only way brother-”

“Where is he now.” The Praetorian demanded causing Roboute to sigh.

“Inside.” He clarified. “We find it best to keep him out of public eye-” He stopped as Rogal walked away, brushing past Eldrad and the rest of the Aeldari contingents without so much as a glance, and not even thinking about the Lord Inquisitor. His vision tunneled in on the Traitor who caused mayhem and trouble during the heresy.

He marched with intent inside of the fortress’ grand entrance hall where he did indeed see Konrad in formal robes, waiting with a myriad of his own sons by his side.

Konrad raised his head when he spotted Rogal and took a deep breath. Here they went again…

“Brother.” Konrad greeted as happily as he could. Which came out about as cheerful as a Custodian having to do guard duty in the barracks for the next three days.

Rogal didn’t stop walking.

Horus: “500 thrones on him attacking Konrad.”  
Ferrus: “700 on him trying to kill him.”  
Jaghatai: “1000.” *Grins* “On him just breaking a bone.”  
Fulgrim: “1000 on all of you being full of shit.”  
Horus: “Denied by the Warmaster. Not a valid bet.”  
Fulgrim: “That’s not fair.”  
Horus: “Yes it is, I said so.”

“It has been… a while.”

Rogal didn’t stop walking.

“I know you are most likely still mad.”

Rogal didn’t stop walking.

“And that I have some explaining to do.”

Rogal didn’t stop walking.

“However-”

Konrad flew to the ground, as the thunderclap from the massive smack Rogal had given his brother onto his left check sending him flying, feeling almost as if his entire head was about to be ripped clean off. Knowing that some teeth had been knocked out and bones broken.

Konrad’s sons dared not so much as move as Rogal stood above his brother, seething in cold, silent anger.

“Now.” He finally spoke. “You may make your excuses.”

Horus: “Fuck… ugh, guess we split it down the middle with Jaghatai?”  
Jaghatai: *Stroking his beard* “Acceptable.”

*Exchanging of coins and much grumbling to be had*

“Fair enough.” Konrad spoke, spitting out a tooth as he brought himself to his feet. “I… made a mistake betraying father.”

Rogal’s unflinching gaze was his only answer.

“So I… staged my own death.” Konrad sighed. “I couldn’t very well return after what I have done. Nor could I control my sons anymore or do any good from the other side.”

Emperor: “THERE BETTER BE A VID IN HERE SOMEWHERE THAT EXPLAINS THAT IN A LOT MORE DETAIL.”  
Sanguinius: “There better be. Hmph. I hate cliffhangers and unexplained plot holes…”

Rogal thought on it for a second, then slightly nodded, motioning Konrad on.

“I then became lost in a storm. After certain events played out… skipping un-necessary information and tall tales, I ended up here, in Roboute’s service.”

Rogal breathed out sharply, “And how do I know you have changed?”

“I…” Konrad stuttered before sighing yet again. “You can’t. I don’t have any-”

“DAD!” A scream pierced the air as a ball of black hair launched itself at Konrad, attaching itself to his chest like a blood worm. “I didn’t know you were here!” It began, causing Konrad to already groan. “Did you see the parade?! It was sooo cool! With all the marine’s and the guardsmen and the music and the bells and then Uncle Rogal came in and-”

Rogal stared for the second time on the same day in shock and awe. Here was a boy, speaking nonsense about as quickly as a broken calligraphus servitor all the while _gushing over_ and **hugging** **_Konrad._**

Konrad was currently trying to fit a hand between them to pry his little death trap off of him. Damien didn’t let this stop him from talking even more, though now his voice was tinged with half his face being pushed away. How long was he going to have to deal with this damn kid gushing over him and making his existence hell!?

What made Konrad stop trying was the telltale sign of booming laughter.

More specifically, the laughter of Rogal Dorn.

Horus: “Wait… that’s the sound from before!”  
Perturabo: “You're not implying that he was laughing before are you?”  
Rogal: “I am perfectly capable of the laughter.”  
Konrad: *Blissfully unaware of everything*

“Humility.” He finally spoke after calming down. “The boy has shown you the error of your ways Konrad.”

“What!?” Konrad spoke in outrage, giving up on prying Damien off of him and letting him stay attached to his chest. “No! I-”

“He keeps you grounded in reality.” Rogal clarified. “Children have a strange tendency of doing that to their parents.”

Horus: “Damien literally saved Konrad from Rogal’s wrath. Who would have thought?”  
Lorgar: “Fate works in strange ways.”  
Fulgrim: “Someone unplug Konrad’s ears.”  
Corvus: “On it.” *Does so*  
Konrad: “What!? Get away-”  
Fulgrim: “Damien saved you.”  
Konrad: “What. Fuck you, that’s a lie.”  
Corvus: “No, he did. You’d have noticed if you suffered through this with us.”  
Konrad: “There is no way Damien saved me.”  
Rogal: “He has. His presence and affable personality has shown the me that in this future it is possible for you to be redeemed and to be given another chance. You should thank him.”  
Konrad: “...no.”  
Fulgrim: “Just admit that Damien did something good for you. It’s not hard.”

The rest of the retinue began to file in behind them as Rogal walked off, the look he was still giving Konrad showing that this talk was not over even as Konrad simply remained standing, stunned with a still talking Damien continuing to cling to him. Konrad hoped he would never have to be stuck with the kid for an extended period of time if that’s the way parenthood managed to change Rogal fracking Dorn.

“-and I get to tell you even more cause we’re sitting next to each other at the banquet!”

He needed to speak to Roboute about that **now**. Otherwise, his sanity wouldn’t make it past midday.

“This is-”  
“-going to be-”  
“-fun.”  
Angron: “Somehow I doubt it.”

**...**

Not even an hour later. The massive retinue had managed to finally sit down for some lunch. Konrad managed to peel away Damien with the help of Vlad as he stalked off, sending some of the nobles scattering away with a stare that, if Konrad were a psyker, would cause said nobles to most likely drop dead on the spot.

All the while, everyone else had taken their spot, however, some were more confused than others...

“Uhh…” Damien kept looking at all of his plates, utensils, and Friedrich. None of their placement’s made any sense. Why was the tiny fork different from the middle fork? Why was Friedrich sitting at the children's section with him and Aegidius? Why was Aegidius back here and not with his dad? Why did his dad storm off earlier and had a massive bruise on his right cheek? And why was a slightly smaller plate next to his big one? Why are there so many utensils? Didn’t you just need one fork? _“Uhhhh!?”_ He moaned one last time, looking in Aegidius' direction and waving at him for help as the various dignitaries were still in the process of arriving into the grand banquet hall of the fortress of Hera.

Ferrus: “I sympathize with the boy, I find all of the utensils and courses truly un-necessary.”  
Emperor: “HOW MANY TIMES MUST I SAY THIS BOYS. THE AMOUNT OF COURSES GIVES TIME FOR POLITICAL ARRANGEMENTS.”  
Horus: “That really doesn’t make it better. Quite the opposite in fact.”  
Angron: “I just want to eat my fucking steak in peace.”  
Konrad: *Pointedly ignoring the screen*  
Fulgrim: *Gives him a knowing look*

Aegidius, who felt more than saw his cousin's plight, turned away from staring up at their newfound cousin Friedrich in awe and back to Damien, seeing quickly that he was pointing rather violently at his dinnerware, his face all but screaming _help me._

Giving his cousin a patient smile, he pointed them out, “It’s okay, it’s easy just remember, start from the outside, right hand side first then as each course comes in, work your way inwards.” Alorynis at this point had found the young princeling again and was currently resting his head on the boy’s lap, looking up and demanding table food.

“Oh…” Damien smiled thankful for the help. “What do you need this many plates for anyway?”

Aegidius shrugged while petting the gyrinx, “cause there’s a lot of courses. It’s a weird aristocrat thing.” He waved it off, looking around the table and trying to see where everyone else was being seated. “Just don’t worry, apparently when the Imperium was at its height, these gatherings were supposed to be twelve full courses. But they cut it down to **four**.”

“Four!?” Damien exclaimed in surprise. “How am I going to get through that!?”

“Do not worry cousin.” Surprisingly it was Friedrich that intervened. “I shall help guide you through this trying task. I have studied the ancient ways of feasts, I know the required etiquette to the letter.”

Vulkan: “I still wonder why Friedrich is sitting with the children. Is he not old enough and accomplished in his work as a Space Marine to sit with his father at the head table?”

Damien thought for a second before nodding. “Thanks. But why are you here? Shouldn’t you be over by your dad? Or are you like us and told to sit over here? Is it weird to sit with kids?”

Aegidius facepalmed, “Damien you can’t just ask someone why they’re sitting here in the kid section, that’s so rude-”

Emperor: “HA.”  
Horus: “What?”  
Emperor: “OLD MOVIE REFERENCE, YOU WON’T GET IT.”

“I am a child.”

The two boys glanced at Friedrich then to themselves, then to each other, then back to themselves then to Friedrich. Aegidius had many questions, but wasn’t sure how to phrase them, but soon realized he should have taken the chance to ask first.

“But... you’re big!” Damien blurted out without a second thought.

“My size is not an indicator of my true age, it is in fact… a facade.”

“Well, then how old are you?”

“Damien! You can’t just ask people how old they are…!” Aegidius tried to keep his tone down, angrily whispering at his cousin who continued to unknowingly be rude to everyone nearby.

“I am ten standard Terran solar years old.” Friedrich replied with all the subtlety of a collapsing building.

Horus: “What.”  
Vulkan: “How?”

The boys had to take a second to process this.

Damien then rather swiftly turned to Aegidius and quite loudly whispered. “ _Dude, are we gonna grow six feet in two years?_ ”

Mortarion: *Facepalms so hard he almost breaks his respirator* “NO! NO YOU WILL NOT.”  
Horus: “Morty. Explain.”  
Mortarion: “Explain what!?”  
Horus: “Friedrich is ten, and yet he’s a full Space Marine. So, explain.”  
Mortarion: _“I don’t even know where to start with this.”_

This caused Vlad, who was standing guard at the door and definitely not listening to what Damien was talking about, to facepalm so hard he made a nearby politician nearly run into the door.

He swore… the day he was going to make Damien Curze into a battle-brother, one of his hearts would give out.

“I… uh…” Aegidius stuttered. “I certainly hope not.” He shuddered at the thought of suddenly growing that much in such a short amount of time. “That sounds super painful.” Alorynis reached up to sniff at Aegidius’ plate, but was stopped by the Princeling pushing the gyrinx’s head away.

“It was. But it was the choice between a copious amount of pain or death. I believe that my parents chose well.”

“Well uh- I- uh…” Aegidius stammered. “You are alive but uh- uhm are you- are you like… a Space Marine...!? A full on Astartes...!?” He paused. “At **_ten...!?”_ **

“Yes.” Friedrich shrugged, “I still have a few more trials and surgeries to sit through, but yes little cousin, I am a Space Marine.” He looked up and around the boys, “Oh. The soup is here.”

Mortarion: “There. Explained.”  
Horus: “That was not an explanation.”  
Mortarion: “Fuck all of you, I don’t need to explain the procedure of Astartes augmentation, even if it’s accelerated. I’m not a fracking Tech priest connected to a database, if you want that, go find one.”  
Magos Lehm: *Inches towards the pillar to escape sight*

“That’s…” Damien began, causing Aegidius to turn to him in worry. “That’s…” He stuttered even as the soup was placed in front of him by a servant. “Sooo cool!” He bounced in his seat, anyone near him already knowing it was starting again. “So does that mean you go around and fight bad guys cause that’s what all of our Battlemace books say is it really gross with all the blood around or do you just kinda ignore it? Oh! What about when you aren’t off fighting for humanity what do Space Marines even do off duty cause I only know what the Ultramarines and the new Night Lords do, since you’re an Imperial Fist and- and- and-”

Meanwhile on the other end of the table.

Konrad: “Merciful fucking bliss, thank fuck for that cut.”

Signy was looking past her fellow table mates, watching her son talking with the two boys his actual age. Though she had no idea the black haired boy could talk so fast or that loudly that she could vaguely hear him all the way from here.

Subconsciously, her hand reached out to her left and caressed her husband's right arm. He was deep in his plans already, she knew, he had already begun to discuss them with her as they were coming down in a thunderhawk as to how he would reshape Macragge.

Not that she understood much of them. But Rogal needed someone to bounce ideas off of and that someone didn’t necessarily have to respond.

Fulgrim: “I’m really interested to know how they met and what their story is…”  
Rogal: “She was most likely a concubine.”  
Sanguinius: “There goes the magic of that possible story…”

“When I am finished with these plans, your fortress shall rival the Imperial Palace itself. Not in decadence, but in its bulwark against all of Mankind's enemies.” He was busy explaining to Roboute, already having a hololith of the Fortress of Hera in front of him, waving away the servant with the soup as Roboute did likewise and Leman did too, although the latter was far deeper in talks with one of his sons about his daughter who as of yet did not have the patience to attend a full on banquet.

Roboute was staring at the hololith in surprise and no small amount of shame. Had the fortress deteriorated _that_ much over the years? It didn’t feel like it but seeing it like this…

“What changes do you propose then?” He asked Rogal who merely tilted his head.

“All of them.” He spoke bluntly. “If I had the time and resources, a ground up rebuild would be optimal. However, as it is. I believe a heavy duty renovation shall have to suffice.”

Roboute slowly nodded. “I will, of course, provide the materials, most of the workforce, and you can of course reuse many of the already existing material. But…” He gestured to the number of workers that the hololith was predicting would be necessary for such a task. “And this is merely the fortress. Expanding it to Macragge Magnas Civitas and eventually the entire world… it will not only take many hands. But time and-”

“I have already thought of all such factors.” Rogal reassured his brother. “I may have sent Captain Calder along with some of my sons with Vulkan to help fortify his home, but rest assured, plenty of my capable warmasons yet remain.” He zoomed out the hololith, showing the entirety of Macragge Magnas Civitas along with the fortress. “If I deploy the entirety of my workforce I predict the initial stages of the renovations to be completed within three solar months.”

Rogal: “An… amiable conclusion.”  
Horus: “Only amiable?”  
Rogal: “I do not like the shape, nor style, nor lack of gold my future self has used in the designing of this fortress.”  
Perturabo: *Sighs* “Of course you don’t.”

“What of the Aeldari?” Yvraine spoke up, suppressing a shiver when their attention was on her. “This is all fine for the Fortress and the city, but will we continue to have segregation? And if so, will there be a disparity between both sides? I am unsure how it works with humans but my kind will want fair compensation if they are chosen to help with the rebuilding efforts.”

Rogal leaned back into his massive throne sized chair and appeared to study the hololithic for a few minutes, then breathed out loudly and quickly began to reshape some of the buildings in many ways, everything but his arms and eyes being completely still. The palate cleanser was brought out for banquet attendees, which the Primarchs passed up on yet again.

His lips twisted into a frown and with a snap of his fingers, he summoned who appeared to be his equerry who quickly ran off before coming back with multiple data slates, all of which displayed various craftworlds and other Aeldari constructs.

Then his arms reached out and began moulding the hololith. Like an artist taking to moulding clay.

Rotting hovels became tall, elegant spires. Narrow, choked streets were expanded as the blocks for lower wage menials were compressed yet not choked with depression.

Streets became killzones, squares became signs of glory and multipurpose spaceports and stairwells and bridges became obstacles. Every piece of the city was purposed with not just one use, but multiple for the people and the army as well.

Within minutes, the Praetorian had remade Macragge into what would once more be a symbol of glory for its inhabitants.

And a living, breathing, deathtrap for its enemies.

Emperor: “AND THAT IS WHY HE REBUILT THE IMPERIAL PALACE.”  
Perturabo: “What. Excuse you!? The entire reason you chose Rogal to rebuild the Imperial Palace is because he knows how to make anything into a death trap!? I’ve spent my entire life building great monuments and beautiful pieces of architectural genius and choose the literal brick to redesign the cradle of humanity? I don’t even know why I bother trying to do any work or you at this point.”  
Emperor: “CALM DOWN MY LITTLE WRECKING BALL. THERE WILL BE A TIME AND PLACE.”  
Perturabo: “Wrecking ball- fucking… No wonder Magnus fucking left…”

“Wraithbone.” He also spoke. “Worked into the foundations of the buildings. With it, the supports need not be sunk so deep into the ground and may yet grow taller, different than the standard Gothic style.” He paused, searching for the right words. “A more… elegant type of city, yet just as effective.” He nodded. “Combined with my warmasons, all the bonesingers that can be spared… four standard solar months of work.”

“You will have all available bonesingers and their apprentices. We recently had three more join our ranks, highly trained and competent in their work.” She looked over the hololith again, knowing she was going to have to convince them all that it was imperative to put as many resources into this project as possible. “They certainly won’t like it, but worry not about that. That is my problem to deal with.”

He nodded and turned his attention to the fortress. “This.” He said, poking at the fortress and making it light up red. “Shall become the symbol of defiance.” He hummed. “With it shall we rally the Emperor’s people and retake this galaxy. Pushing away the abhorrent, the traitor and the abominations. An inch at a time if we must.”

“I assume you’re including the Aeldari as well in that statement…” Sipping at her Inwitian whiskey and trying to figure out why so many people liked this slop. At least Macraggian red was tolerable.

“I speak of the Emperor’s people.” Rogal clarified. “So long as we are unified under a single one. It will be so.” He then spotted her glass. “But enough work. Some pleasure may be partaken in, including the drinking of good whiskey.” He gave a gentle smile even as the main Entree was placed in front of them by the servants and the multiple holos and data-slates were taken away.

Leman: “Ahh, reminds me, need to put in an order one of these days.”  
Roboute: “You should, Rogal’s creations are worth it.”

She looked over her drink then rolled her eyes.

But then, a crystal decanter was placed in front of them and uncorked by Rogal himself, who then breathed in its scent. “Of my personal reserve.” He clarified before leaning over and pouring everyone around him a glass, including Leman, whose attention was on him the second he had spotted the alcoholic beverage.

“Agh, finally! Ah’ve been sitting here waitin’ fer tha good stuff…” A large wolfish grin on his face as he regarded this age old drink.

Roboute smiled to himself at Leman’s antics, finding them infectious. It was a long time since he had the top shelf of Rogal’s liquid creations. Well, other than the personal decanter in his office.

Rogal nodded, smiled and stood, tapping the side of his glass and attracting everyone’s attention, the hum of the hall falling quiet as the Primarch caught all of their attention.

“My arrival may be sudden.” He spoke in a deep tone. “But nonetheless, I feel welcome.” An echo of ayes was his response as he looked down at Guilliman. “As per my brother's wishes, I willingly accept the title and position of Praetorian Maximus.” Another echo of ayes and claps this time along with some cheers and congratulations. “A toast.” He spoke further, raising his glass. “To the health of my brothers, of my newfound nephews.” He inclined his glass at said family on the other side of the table, looking at Aegidius and making him feel that itching sensation at the back of his head yet again. “To the Aeldari who have joined us in this alliance.” He inclined his glass to Eldrad who stood on slightly unsteady legs. “And to my newly discovered sister in law.” He leaned his glass, looking pointedly at her own freshly poured glass. “And of course, to the Imperium. To glory.”

“To glory.” Everyone echoed and took a sip of their drinks.

A sip and she suddenly knew what the fuss was about. The hints of ironwood, the blend of nuts she couldn’t quite figure out, even hints of sugar and spice that both bite her throat and soothed it with a two handed slap in the form of a drink. The after taste reminded her of a type of fruit she couldn’t quite place, but somehow felt icy yet sweet. All she could think of was how much she wanted another sip to figure out the complex blends and pinpoint the flavours that eluded her senses.

Leman: “I want it now.”  
Fulgrim: “You haven’t tasted it before? I’ve traded my own Champagne for Rogal’s Whiskey plenty of times.”  
Horus: “How long have you been making champagne?”  
Fulgrim: “For a while now? I thought everyone made their own alcohol?”  
Perturabo: "Olympian white is better than Macraggian red.”  
Roboute: “Macraggians know how to make wine better than Olympians!”  
Corvus: “Am I the only one whose tried out the Valhallan’s special Tanna tea?”  
Leman: “Where is everyone getting all these drinks I ain’t heard of before!?”  
Corvus: “We’re not assholes to everyone or we make it ourselves?”

She nodded back at her brother in law, receiving the smallest of smiles in turn. “And here we were, threatening each other mere hours ago.” She grinned at his snort, him ignoring her playful barb.

She knew then and there. A man who could rebuild an entire planet in mere moments and brew a drink of that strength yet such elegance would be very useful.

She took another sip and cut into her meal, suddenly grateful that she had managed to roll out of bed after all.

The vid cut to black.

“I wasn’t even here for some of it and that one felt fucking long.” Angron groaned even as he stretched his neck with a loud cracking noise.

“IT REALLY WAS.” The Emperor added on even as he stretched his back.

“Fuck this, I’m going to go find Magnus.” Perturabo stood up, done with sitting around with the Emperor and especially Rogal.

“BRING HIM BACK IF YOU CAN. WE’RE TAKING A BREAK THEN ONTO THE NEXT ONE… IT FEELS AS IF IT'S GOING TO BE MASSIVE FOR SOME REASON.”

“Compared to the ones that will come later, something tells me that it’s going to be nothing.” Horus muttered as he warily looked at the still growing pile of vids, some of the later ones looking more and more ornate, the artifice evident on their covering.

“Hell no. He hates you, I hate you.” Perturabo called out from over his shoulder. “How about you get Rogal to come get us, since you clearly want his work over my own!” His powered armoured steps echoed as he walked out of the room, stewing over his own anger, betrayal and jealousy.

“And there goes another one.” Lorgar sighed. “Mayhaps we all should have stayed and continued burning Nuceria, at least it kept us from each other's throats.”

Horus let out a pained groan, burying his face in his hands. “Please no, I don’t want to diffuse another fight between everyone.”

Roboute let out his own sigh. “I shall begin to look into other details that will perhaps require our personal attention. It might just help us fix this situation.”

“As opposed to talking it over, like a normal family would.” Corvus added on.

“I AGREE WITH CORVUS, WE WILL EVENTUALLY NEED TO TALK THIS OUT.” The Emperor mused. “FOR NOW. WE SHALL REST FOR THE DAY AND ALLOW ROBOUTE TO WORK.”

“We have a lot to talk about, but the whole idea is that we talk without turning into a pissing contest and all of us screaming at each other.” Horus groaned, “I can only imagine how bad it would be if all of us were at each other’s throats…”

The Primarchs had already taken their fathers words to heart, stood up and left, leaving Horus and the Emperor to talk it over. “WE SHALL DO SO. NO MATTER THE STRUGGLE.” The Emperor agreed. “PERHAPS IT WOULD BE BEST TO RETURN TO THE CAPITAL. MY THRONE HAS LAID EMPTY FOR FAR TOO LONG.”

“Terra?” Horus thought even as he stretched himself out lazily upon his own throne.

“I ADMIT THAT THERE ARE MOST LIKELY MANY MATTERS THERE THAT REQUIRE MY PERSONAL ATTENTION.”

“It would make the Sigillite infinitely grateful, and much less likely to attempt and murder you.” Horus smiled at his own jest.

“OF COURSE. BUT IT WOULD ALSO GIVE ME THE CAPABILITY OF REDIRECTING THE WAR EFFORT MORE EASILY.”

“Redirecting it towards what?” Horus asked. “I am Warmaster by your own appointment, allow me to-”

“NO. PERHAPS REDIRECT IS NOT THE MOST FITTING WORD I COULD HAVE USED. SOMETHING MORE AKIN TO… CHANGE WOULD FIT BETTER.”

“You speak of changing the Great Crusade at its core instead of it’s individual targets then?”

The Emperor gave a sullen nod. “THESE VIDS. THEY HAVE GIVEN ME MUCH TO THINK OVER. POINTS HAVE BEEN RAISED, IDEAS HAVE BEEN SHARED THAT REQUIRE MY ATTENTION FAR MORE THAN I HAD ORIGINALLY INTENDED TO GIVE THEM.”

Horus sighed. “Over a century at your side and still you speak in indecipherable riddles.” He nodded then. “So be it, whatever shall be your order, I shall follow.” He stood then. “I will order the fleet to begin and make way for Terra.”

“DO SO.” The Emperor ordered, now staring ahead at an empty wall, his elbows resting on the armrests of his throne even as his hands clenched one another and he fell deeper into thought.

Horus stood and made for the door, but turned at the last second. “Father?”

His only answer was a sound of acknowledgement.

“What of Magnus?”

The Emperor appeared to contemplate his answer for a moment, staying silent while doing so.

“I spoke with him and… He’s truly hurt. I believe it would be wise to simply talk with him, assure him you care or… something of the like.”

The Emperor continued to simply stare at the wall, before finally giving his answer.

“PERHAPS. LEAVE ME, I HAVE MANY THINGS THAT REQUIRE PLANNING.”

Horus knew he had to obey, but that did not mean he had to like it. So, he bowed his head and left the room, not liking where this was going at all.

The sooner they reached Terra and the great mind of the Lord Regent, the sooner he could discover what was wrong with Father.

As he walked the hallway he hoped against all evidence that they would do so before they well and truly did something that they would all come to regret… but even as he did so, his heart whispered the harsh truth.

At one point or another, they were going to finally be pushed over the edge. And that, horrified Horus above all else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we are now at the last rewrite! On the original thread, there are more chapters, but they are not to the same standard of the chapters you have seen now. We are working to get out new rewrites and update as fast as possible for everyone who enjoys our content! So now, when a new rewrite debuts, the thread and the Ao3 will be updated together!
> 
> For more info about MFD, the writing process, tidbits about the story or just to see what we're up to, come and see us on Twitter:  
> Me: @DuskDawnGirl  
> Co: @Showtime178


	15. Extras 6 - In which Mortarion gets a dose of his own medicine and the family hates each other

**...  
** **000.M31 -Aboard the** **_Photep  
_ ** **...**

It felt good to talk back to Him. It felt good to stand up and just refuse an order from Him, as small of one as it was.

Who was he kidding? It felt freeing, amazing, elating to just say no to Him! Having the power to just say no, not for his sake, but for someone else’s. Usually, he cared little for his brothers, cared little for what they did and what their latest news was, but one brother had always been a friend to him. After the seven weeks of nothing, he and Rogal were on… friendlier terms… Hell, he was even starting to get to know the rest of his kin and finding that they were, for the most part… agreeable.

But out of all of them, other than his lost brother, Magnus had always been his friend. Even if he had been numb to the structure of family and it’s emotional bonding process, he still cared for Magnus and felt as if his brother had been wronged. Severely.

Perturabo knew what it was like to lose someone who understood you, someone who could speak on your level and contribute as much as you. He had been devastated when Nagi had been erased, he could only imagine what Magnus was feeling at this moment, watching people he loved just… Disappear.

By the time the Lord of Iron had boarded the _Photep_ , he was just in time to hear how all ships were to move towards Terra.

“Great.” Perturabo ground out, knowing it was going to take an unreasonable amount of time to get off the _Photep_ and back to the _Bucephalus_ or better yet, the _Iron Blood_ so he did not have to be around Father anymore. “At least I’ll be stuck here with Magnus, so it won’t be a complete waste of time-”

The Lord of Iron trailed off when his eyes landed upon the figure that was currently standing outside the doors to their brother’s private chambers, pounding his meaty fist against the doors and screaming at the thing in a voice tinged with his Fenrisian tongue. 

“Magnus, please come oot! Or jus’ let me in!” Leman knocked hard on the door that barely moved at all, two members of the Sekhmet were standing near the Primarch of the Space Wolves, wondering if they could escape to their own Primogenitor. “Ah really do jus’ wanna talk, ah swear!”

“Leman, what in Olympia’s Empty Senate are you doing here?” Perturabo stared down the wolf, who glanced at him.

“Ah’m here tah apologize tah Magnus.” Leman then went back to knocking on Magnus’ door, “Magnus! Let me in or ah’m gonna start singin’ the war songs o’ mah people!”

“Leman, go away.” Magnus’ voice materialized beside the two Primarchs. “I don’t want anyone here. **Leave**.”

“Ah can’t, Father has ordered all o’ us tah come back tah Terra. Ah’m stuck here wit yeh until we stop.” Leman shrugged, stopping his knocking, still staring down the door and waiting for it to magically open up for him. “Come on, ah really ahm here tah apologize.”

“Apologize for what?” Magnus idly spoke, a tinge of wonderment in his tone that only made it sound even more sarcastic. “Are you here to call me a witch? Come to tell me that all of my work is evil? Maleficarum? Going to ignore your own hypocrisy? Oh, how about this one: are you actually here to drag me back to Father so I can cease my… Oh, what was it called?” He paused, letting out a ‘hmmm’ before he gasped as if he discovered something truly wondrous. “ _Childish temper tantrum._ ”

“Dammit, Magnus! Ah’m here tah start fixin’ the shit we both wallow in! Ah’m not the one hiding in his room refusin’ tah come out!” Leman barked at the door, contemplating just breaking it down.

“Since when do you care about **_fixing_ **anything between us? Do you really think offering me a drink here and there is going to fix everything else?” Magnus scowled, his voice betraying how much resentment he was feeling. “Why don’t you just go throw yourself out of my ship and start swimming through the warp. According to all of the future vids, you spend more time in it than I do!”

“Now yer are actin’ like a child! Ah accept ah did wrong, yer the one crying about everythin’ and actin’ like yer a damned martyr!” Leman growled, losing his patience with the damned cyclops.

“Ah! There it is! How easily you are baited into your true feelings! I knew it! I knew you were only here for your own reasons. This is why I can’t stand being-”

“ **Both of you shut up.** ”

Leman and Magnus went quiet once Perturabo’s voice cracked through the air, silencing both brothers. The Lord of Iron merely let out angered snorts, glancing at Leman who was pointedly looking away from him and Magnus’ silence. “I swear, if I have to sit here and listen to the both of you go back and forth for a moment longer, I’m tearing down this wall and beating you both to death with it.” Glancing at both Leman and then the door, he ground out his killing blow, “Izanagi would not want you two acting like this.”

At the mention of one of the two lost, the two brothers let out uncomfortable groans, the shame practically manifesting in the air between them.

“Fine. Come in.” The door to Magnus’ private chambers opened with the squeal of hinges, the doorway dark and foreboding.

Glancing to Perturabo, Leman gave the Lord of Iron a wolfish grin before making his way in there. Knowing he had been played, he still followed since Leman might make Magnus angry again. The things he did for Magnus... he grumbled to himself. What greeted the two Primarchs was… not what they were expecting.

Magnus’ private chambers resembled a destroyed planet that refused to join the Imperium and had gone against the Iron Warriors. Practically all furniture had been reduced to splinters, works of art torn asunder, his priceless and countless shelves thrown about and every book in his room looked as if he personally threw them as hard as he could throughout the chamber.

And there Magnus sat, in the middle of his darkened room, disheveled and sitting on the floor in the middle of the mess he made in his own room. Hands folded together, staring the two others down with unknown emotions flitting through his single eye. “...I apologize, my room was ransacked.”

“Roight.” Leman slowly spoke. “Let’s go wit’ that.” He strolled about, surprisingly careful to not step on any of the books which still looked at least partially intact.

“I’d offer you a seat, but the last intact one is currently embedded into the ceiling.” Magnus glanced upwards where, yes, a mostly intact chair was embedded into the ceiling from the amount of force used to throw it. “...how can I help you?”

Perturabo raised a hand and pushed Leman forward, in his own blunt way telling him to talk.

“Well, ta’ be honest wit’ ya Magnus. Never had a bigger issue that a good drink or scrap couldn’t fix.” Leman grinned in a sad way. “But even ah see this might go rollin’ over my ‘ead, so ah suppose yer can help me by talkin’.” Leman slowly lowered himself to the floor, sitting down on a patch of untorn carpet. “We got the time before we can even leave this ship, so might as well spew yer guts. Even grumpy Perturabo looks like he would listen.”

Glancing at said brother, who stood back with his arms crossed over his chest and staring down the two of them with an unreadable look on his face, Magnus looked back to Leman. Sighing, “None of us are good with talking about our feelings, much less I. The only ones who were ever good at that were Sanguinius and…” He trailed off, looking away from Leman and towards his destroyed shelves.

“Izanagi. He was a pansy, loved pink way too much, kept too many pets and always was on us all to quote ‘talk about your feelings more’.” Air quotes added to that piece of speech, Leman chuckled to himself. “I swear, he could have been a girl and nothin about him would have changed.” He chuckled at this absurd idea. “Look what happened, eh? Not talking about anythin’ ended up backfirin’ pretty hard.”

“Like you would not believe.” Magnus began to run his hands over his face, rubbing at the flesh there as he collected his thoughts and steeled himself. “I swear, fighting off warp horrors is a lot easier to deal with than talking about…” Hands now moving to his hair as he tried to get what he wanted to say out, “...this.”

Perturabo stayed quiet, not wanting to admit that not talking about certain subjects appeared to be what had cursed their father along with Magnus. Perhaps the horrible habit of keeping matters bottled up had been passed along with the blood? They all appeared to suffer from it one way or another. Even Leman. Even if he did not want to admit it.

“Nothing which betters us is easily achievable.” He finally spoke. “If it would be, it would not be called progress.” He looked to Magnus then. “If architecture and learning would be easy, every planet would rival Terra and every book would have the answer for everything.” He looked down at the spot next to Leman, his lips curling in distaste, but yet again he reminded himself that this was for Magnus.

He walked over next to Leman and sat down, barely able to do so in the confines of his Terminator power armour, but still managing to sit, even as he looked back at Magnus. “Thus, for the sake of your own self, speak, and we shall listen.”

Looking to his two brothers, both sitting with him in the destroyed remains of his room, still wanting to be here with him. Despite his attempts to push them back, they still came to help him and even wanted him to open up. He opened his mouth to speak, but remembered how their Father had reprimanded him earlier. He quickly shut his mouth with an audible snap.

Yes, the last time he tried to open up, he…

He wanted to speak, he wanted to talk, to yell, to scream, to cry, to do anything to vocalize everything that was swirling in his mind. He wanted to let it all out, leave nothing unsaid and finally start feeling better about all of the emotions bottled up inside of him. But the thing that held him back, was himself. What if they reprimanded him like Father did? What if they didn’t like what he had to say?

Frustrated with himself, frustrated with his actions, his thoughts, frustrated with everything, his vision started to get blurry as he tried to force himself to say something! Anything!

Yet the only thing that he could say was, “I think there’s too much dust in here.”

Leman looked up at him, staring in surprise, his eyes wide even as he blinked and began to look around as if searching for an answer.

“Agreed.” The somber voice of Perturabo surprised both brothers. “Yet we all ignore it. Hoping it will leave if we simply continue to do so. Out of sight, out of mind.”

Nodding at this, Magnus let out a heavy breath, “And sometimes too much dust can pile up and make everything else as dusty. Making everything we see as dusty as well.” A small smile on his face, “which then causes us to eventually break and try to get rid of everything we see as dusty.”

“Which in turn throws up a cloud of it. Making it hard to see past that moment and causing us to panic.” Perturabo breathed. “Not realizing if we had dealt with the dust sooner, not only would there be no cloud. There would be no panic.”

Magnus glanced around his room, watching the aftermath of his rage and repressed feelings. He deflated, uncomfortable that he lost himself so badly. “I didn’t mean to destroy everything. I just… just…” He had to force it out, just talk and maybe everything would alright. “Sometimes I don’t feel like I am a part of the family, that no matter what I do, it will be wrong. Even when I try to do right, it’s wrong, when I try to open up, I’m told to close.” He stopped, unsure of what else to say. “I fucked up.”

“Dad fucked up.” Leman tagged in. “Look, I get yer’ two did yer’ metaphors but, this one is mostly on Dad, and maybe me’...” Leman sighed. “Sorry I pushed yer’ to reveal yer’ family brother. Though you could have done better, I think Father is on the wrong point here.”

“I believe most of our _family_ is.” Perturabo cleared his throat. “Until quite recently, there had been very little reason to share our intimate secrets with each other, much less father.” Perturabo closed his eyes and breathed deeply. “By Olympia… most of our brothers believe that one of our lost brothers was purged by father, and his legion gene-harvested. With such thoughts, are the actions of our family and us so… surprising?” 

“No.” The red Primarch shrugged at this, “No it’s not. Though we all certainly did not help the situation by acting like a bunch of oversized children at times.” He sighed once more, “We must be disappointing Izanagi horribly right now, aren’t we?”

“I think if he were alive, he’d thunk us all over the head once.” Leman chuckled sadly. “And then say we are doin’ great by talkin’ to each other.”

Chuckling softly, then a bit harder as Magnus realized it. He certainly could be an idiot, couldn’t he? “Yes, yes you’re right.” He calmed down his chuckles before sitting up straighter, “Thank you, for coming.”

“Always brotha’.” Leman smiled even as Magnus frowned again.

“Leman. You’ve known Father for longer than most of us, was he always this… coarse?”

Leman frowned. “Well, now that yer’ mention it…”

**...  
** **000.M31 -Aboard the** **_Bucephalus  
_ ** **...**

When the Emperor found out he was missing three sons now and another two who had left for the _Conqueror_ along with his only grandson now…

To say he was… displeased, was understating his feelings.

Scratch that, he was _severely_ displeased when he just now found out that only one of his sons was on the _Bucephalus_ with him. It went as follows:

Magnus was still mad at Him for his temper tantrum in front of the family, He sent Perturabo to find and bring him back, but was promptly told to, in not so many words, go and fuck Himself. Leman disappeared by then and is most likely on the _Photep_ as he thinks this through.

Angron just straight up slapped his throne, declared, “aight, I’m out.” and Lorgar followed to make sure he didn’t destroy anything. He also assumed Ragio was casually kidnapped off of the _Bucephalus_ as well if he didn’t leave by himself already… Which then was followed with Lion declaring that the ship was too stifling to be in at length, followed by both Fulgrim and Ferrus who declared the same as well.

Corvus and Vulkan were quick to jump ship as well with only a few words of, “they couldn’t stand being in such a heavy room for much longer.”

Jaghatai stayed for only a few moments to stare at his Father, shook his head, and decided it was best to just leave the _Bucephalus_ before he said anything that was going to dig a deeper hole. Mortarion and Konrad would silently find their way out of the ship as well, not a single word to be said to their Father. 

“Father,” Sanguinius was the one to stop by the Emperor to speak with him. “I will do what I can with as many of my brothers as possible, but I can not guarantee anything.” His precious boy looked to be burdened greatly by the weight that was resting on his shoulders. “Perhaps a bit of space is what will be needed for all of us to take a breather and rethink our priorities?”

He agreed with the sentiment but was unwilling to admit that He had done anything wrong. He was disciplining the boys, he was making sure they didn’t completely fracture! Why couldn’t they understand that? He only nodded to Sanguinius, allowing him to leave, just like the rest of them.

Sanguinius paused, he looked as if he had more to say but decided against it. He bowed to his Father before leaving the room. He was sure to see the twins following and leaving silently as if they had never been there.

Rogal however, who was flanked by Roboute, was not so kind to mince words. “You have created a mess, Father.” Roboute sighed and muttered about how he didn’t want Rogal to be thrown from the airlock. “The family is in ruins, yet again.”

“I CAN SEE THAT, ROGAL.” The Emperor bit back, yet still did not admit that it was his fault. He had been going through a very annoying habit of admitting he was wrong these past few weeks. It hurt and he hated it, but right now, he was not at fault! “I DID WHAT WAS NECESSARY.”

“I highly doubt that. The Father that I know would look at a situation clearly before rendering judgment. You lashed out.”

A very petulant part of His mind wanted to retort back, declaring that why should his mistakes in this family account for more than all of theirs? But an annoying little voice that sounded a lot like hers would remind him that he was the Father. Of course, his mistakes would have a bigger impact and bigger consequences… Even if he did what was right.

Right?

His silence on the matter was enough to cause Rogal to shake his head and leave behind the Emperor in the viewing room, Roboute sighing and shaking his head as well even as he followed Rogal out of the Bucephalus.

Only one other stayed behind in the viewing room, Magos Lehm having abandoned the room long ago when the tension had cut through the room too heavily, was Horus. The irony was not lost on the Anatolian, watching and wondering if Horus was going to leave too. He spread his arms out as if to show Horus how empty the room was now, looking from throne to throne as he pondered how wrong everything had gone.

“WILL YOU LEAVE AS WELL? ANY SHORT, BITING REMARKS AS FAREWELL?”

Horus paused, mulling the question over as he sat back down on the throne nearest to him. He let out a small noise, a huff, and looked back up at his Father. “No. I have a feeling that right now, being alone is the worst thing I can imagine for you.” Horus then watched his Father, how he was surprised for just a second as if he was truly looking at him. “Father?”

The Emperor watched Horus, almost letting out a laugh as he remembered that very same sentence being told to him so long ago. How ironic, that he would say the same thing she told him. “JUST LIKE HER.” He stated, arms dropping to his sides as he sauntered to the middle of the room. “I DID WHAT I HAD TO.”

“And it looks to be that it was a wrong choice.” He shot back, watching how his Father let out a chuckle. Who was he like? Who was her? A lost lover?

“QUICK LIKE HER AS WELL. I DIDN’T SCREW UP THAT HORRIBLY, DID I?” He wasn’t looking at Horus, head bowed slightly as he stopped and mulled over his next words. “I TRIED TO DO WHAT WAS BEST, I THOUGHT IT WAS RIGHT. I’M TRYING TO BE BETTER THAN WHAT WAS SHOWN, BUT WHAT AM I DOING?”

“Last I recall, you’re just trying to do your best in a terrible situation,” Horus answered diplomatically, watching his Father intently. The conversation didn’t feel right, it felt as if he was talking to his Father for someone else. “What do you plan on doing to fix it?”

“I DON’T KNOW, LIV!” His Father shouted out but was quick to shut down his anger. “HORUS. HORUS…” He corrected himself. “I DON’T KNOW, HORUS.” He turned to his son again, this time, his age showing on his face as he tried to figure out what to say, what to do, how to fix a broken situation. “IT MAY BE HARD TO BELIEVE, BUT I DO NOT HAVE ALL THE ANSWERS. I AM NOT ALL-KNOWING, ALL-POWERFUL, OR EVEN ALL GOOD. I AM SIMPLY TRYING MY BEST WITH A TERRIBLE SITUATION.”

 _A very delicate situation_ , Horus thought. He wanted to get some space from his Father, but knowing how everyone else had left him all alone… He remembered an old memory, from when His Father came down to Cthonia the first time.

_He smiled at him, crouching down to his level and waiting for him to approach. He didn’t know what to do, he wanted to stay standing beside the giant golden warriors that guarded him and guarded the Stranger before him._

_But at the same time…_

_“Horus? Wouldn’t you like to come with me?” He asked him. That gentle smile staying on His face. “Certainly must be very lonely here. Wouldn’t you like to join me?”_

_He had been by himself… And when he looked towards the Stranger, his Father, really… He looked lonely too._

_“I think we can both help each other, can’t we?” His Father asked._

_He remembered. He remembered nodding and reaching his arms out to the golden man, watching that soft smile bloom into a much brighter one as he held his own arms out to Horus._

_“We are going to do great things together Horus, many great things.”_

_He wasn’t going to be alone._

“Well, I won’t leave.” Horus resolved, giving his Father a reassuring smile. “I think we can both help each other, can’t we?”

When the Emperor quickly turned to Horus, there was recognition in his eyes. Then he let out a humorless breath and leaned back on this throne.

“THAT ADAGE WAS SAID YEARS AGO. YOU BREAK IT IN THE ORIGINAL TIMELINE, IF I RECALL CORRECTLY.” The Emperor accused, but did so without malice or ill intent. “AND I AS WELL.” The smile fell from the Emperor’s face as he remembered. “BACK TO TERRA, TO PROJECTS GREATER THAN THIS EMPIRE… TO DOOM.”

Father and son sat in silence for a moment, the only thing heard being the constant hum of the ship's engines as it traversed through the warp.

“Nah.” Horus finally spoke, causing the Emperor’s head to jolt in his direction in surprise at the unexpected word.

“NO?” The Emperor asked. “WHAT MAKES YOU SAY SO?”

“You need to stop blaming yourself for everything.” Horus explained. “Of course, there are many things which you could have done better, could be doing better even in fact but well, in the end, you are only human.”

The Emperor broke into a wistful smile, thinking back on when someone else had assured him with those very same words. How alike they were, when they haven’t even met. But perhaps nature played a strong hand rather than simply nurture. “THANK YOU. I PROMISE, I WILL TRY HARDER, DO BETTER.”

Horus elbowed his Father good naturedly, “Good. May I ask you just one question, Father?”

“GO AHEAD.”

“Who is Liv? You said her name, or his, I don’t really know with names sometimes but-”

“PLEASE, LITERALLY ANY OTHER QUESTION OR I FEEL AS IF MY HEAD SHALL EXPLODE.”

“What? Why?”

“BECAUSE THAT IS A CAN OF WORMS I DO NOT HAVE THE PATIENCE, WILL OR HEART TO GET INTO AT THE MOMENT. ALSO, THERE GOES YOUR ONE FREE QUESTION, SONNY.”

“Aw, come on!” Horus whined as if it was centuries ago. “You’re terrible at this!”

“SO YOU HAVE ACCUSED ME OF TWENTY-TWO TIMES SO FAR, YES.”

**...  
** **Back on the** **_Photep  
_ ** **...**

“-and then, Father went and drank _all_ the mjod we had!” Leman laughed. “That was one hell of a celebration!”

“I swear, sometimes I wonder where you get it from. Stories like this remind me that Father can be a party animal, but I can’t help but wonder if that’s all from Him.” Magnus chuckled, waving away his own thoughts. They were made in tubes, so there was no possible way they could be influenced by anyone else. “Didn’t Roboute drink with you a few times?”

“Aye! He did! Ah didn’t think that he’d be able tah keep up, but no! It was like drinkin’ with another me at the tables!”

Magnus thought for a second, then shrugged, “well, I’d like it if I could join one of those parties then.”

Leman laughed. “If yer’ think that yer’ can handle the liquor then yer’ welcome at any time!” Leman slapped Magnus on his shoulder even as he let out a wolfish chuckle, causing even Perturabo to relax just that little bit more. Who knew that being around Leman could _actually be_ fun?

“But enough of the tales of Father and how He’s gone all dour and sour in his ol’ age.” Leman chuckled at his own weak jest. “Perturabo, yer’ got any drinking stories to share with Father?”

“No.” Perturabo answered simply. “I never discussed anything beyond my most… obvious interests with Father.”

“Well then, what of your adoptive father?” Magnus asked with a kind smile. “When we had met you told me that he was a tyrant, but a good man in his own right.”

“No.” Perturabo shook his head. “Dammekos is not my father, he did not raise me, merely gave me space in Lochos, that is all.” 

“That uh, sounds oddly strange for someone yer’ consider a foster father to ya.” Leman pointed out, causing Perturabo to stare at his brother.

“I do not care how it sounds, Leman. Dammekos is not my foster father, I raised myself.”

Leman held up his hands in self defence. “Far be it from me to point the finger and judge brother, I was raised by wolves myself after all, heh.” He smiled at the memory. “But Thengir was my father.” He said with all due seriousness. “I may not have his blood, but he gave me a home, and a family, and so I took his name for my own, and became Leman of the Russ.” Leman’s smile turned slightly sad as he recalled time long since passed.

“Leman is correct, Perturabo.” Magnus intervened gently. “Amon may not be of my blood, but he raised me as his own. And despite him only being above me in terms of skill and knowledge for but a solar year, his lessons are amongst my most favourite of memories.” Magnus smiled. “You are not like Mortarion, or Angron. Dammekos treated you well, gave you everything a father would, with next to no cost to yourself. Are you sure that does not qualify him as your foster father?”

“No, I…” Perturabo answered with haste, but then stopped. “Calliphone… I allowed her to call me, brother.” He sighed and rubbed at his forehead, the many cables linking his mind to his armour now itching. “Dammekos called me his son many times over… I did not care to return the sentiment.”

“Do you regret that?” Magnus asked gently, not wanting Perturabo to possibly turn sour.

“No.” Perturabo answered immediately. “That would be showing weakness, that is not tolerated upon Olympia.”

“Coulda sworn’ we’re on the _Photep_ and not Olympia.” Leman quickly jested. He then sobered, looking toward Perturabo, leaning against his arm, propped against his leg. “If there was a time tah be honest, brother, it would be now.”

“The truth.” Perturabo muttered. “The truth.” He muttered yet again, even as a somber look overcame his face. “The truth is, I hold many regrets.” He sighed. “The way I raised myself, the way I behaved. Olympia shaped me, molded me to be strong and not show an inch of weakness.” He rubbed his forehead yet again, the cables itching. He felt it. It stared at him. “The fact that no one else can see it.”

“See it?” Magnus asked, causing Perturabo to immediately tense up. “See what brother?”

Why had he said that? What was going to come out of this? Another brother telling him that they couldn’t see it, indirectly calling him crazy, brushing off his worry? Why did he bring that up?

“What plagues yer’ mind, brother?” Leman asked. “It looks as if yer’ cursed.” His words were coarse, but… held no malice.

What could he say? It certainly felt like it? He felt cursed? He saw and felt the eye watching and judging him? What could he say to them and still come out of it not sounding like an insane mental patient? How could he come out of this not sounding like Konrad?

“Brother, you can talk to us. The both of you came here to talk to me and see if I was alright. Why can we not do the same to you?” Magnus tentatively urged Perturabo to speak. “I’m sure that whatever it is, it’s going to be fine. Thus, for the sake of your own self, speak, and we shall listen.”

Perturabo stared at Magnus, who now had a grin on his face that reminded the Lord of Iron of Leman, who caught that little sentence play there. “That was my line.”

“And now I’m using it to help you.”

Fair. That was fair. Well, if they were going to keep pestering him and wouldn’t let up, he might as well. What did he have to lose? “I feel the eye watching me.”

“The eye?” Leman asked. “Yer don’t mean… **the** eye?”

“I…” Perturabo breathed. “I… I do.”

Magnus looked surprised, but undeterred. “The Maelstrom.” He asked. “The Eye of Terror?” There was a shift in his tone, to one of worry. “You feel as if it watches you? Even out of free sight of it? Behind an obstacle-”

“I _see it constantly._ ” Perturabo hissed out. “I need no scopes nor astronomical sights to see it freely with my own eyes. I see it… _watching_ me. Seeing as I- as I fail as…” He breathed quicker. “I am insane. You don’t see it. I am worse than Konrad.” 

“No! No one is as fookin’ insane as Konrad! But you know what? Ah think that one of those damned dark reality tumors is doin’ this tah ye! Right Magnus?”

“No doubt. This is beyond peculiar, I have never heard of such a thing before, but I can believe it. I hate to say this, Perturabo, but…” Magnus trailed off, “I want to help you, truly, but I cannot. Usually I would dive into the mind of those who seek guidance and help in the warp arts, however this is beyond my skill. Something this strong can only be helped by Father-”

“ **No!** ” The Lord of Iron quickly shut down, “No! You can’t tell him! **_I_** can’t tell him! If this gets out, what then? Everyone is going to know there’s something wrong with me! He will know there’s something wrong with me!” He was relieved to know that they believed him and wanted to help, however… They can’t tell Father. “I can’t.”

“Brother, this is beyond my control, this is beyond my skill! If I go in and try to help you, then there is a chance I could make it worse. The only one stronger than me in the mental arts is Father. As much as many of us don’t like him at the moment, he can help you if you trust him to help you.”

Perturabo hated that line of thinking too much. “I came here to help you because we trusted him too much and he hurt you. Now you want me to trust him?”

“Just enough to help. Frankly, if I had the power and skill to help you with this, I would! Father wouldn’t have to know. But I don’t, I don’t have the skills needed to help you. Do you want to continue living like this and having the Eye watch you and break you down, or do you want to get rid of it and have a chance to have some peace?”

Perturabo rubbed at his face and groaned. His first thought was to deny the help, he could work this out on his own. He didn’t need their help, he could and would suffer in silence. But then his second thought was him remembering all of the vids they watched together. All those weeks of sitting together and watching their lives fall apart... He thought of what his future self would have done. Of how he would see his Legion fall. Of how he would butcher the inhabitants of his own homeworld, of how he would snap his own sister’s neck-

“Help.” He said quickly. “I… I need to ask father for help.” He breathed, the anxiety and stress within him rising rapidly. “He… he may see me as a failure then. But… at least she lives.”

**...  
** **A few hours later - On board the** **_Bucephalus  
_ ** **...**

The Emperor walked ahead with his retinue and Horus from his quarters and in the direction of the viewing room. They had just jumped back into the Matterium moments ago above Caliban, and He was insistent on them watching another few videos. They were crucial to the understanding of the alternative future. What else could they learn from their alternative future selves? Where else did He make mistakes?

Already so many of said mistakes were fixed. So many traps and horrible outcomes, resolved before they even came close to being a problem. 

Mutterings from his sons be damned. There were reforms to be made. The Imperium to be led in a different way. Perhaps even getting her-

The Emperor was snapped out of his thoughts by the sight of one of his sons in the corridor ahead of them. He was walking oddly slowly, the rear of his artificer terminator power armour making it immediately evident as to who it was that he was seeing.

Strange. Since when did Perturabo walk anywhere slowly? And while not doing any work at that.

“SON.” He called out, causing Perturabo to stop and turn in fake surprise. What was he planning? “ON YOUR WAY TO THE VIEWING ROOM?”

“Yes father.” Perturabo immediately responded, waving to the aides that surrounded him to go on ahead without him. “But actually… I wanted to speak with you.”

Ah. That was it. Sensing the mood of the room, the Emperor waved on his own retinue, along with Horus, who departed quickly, but not before giving his father the look of _you promised_ , reminding Him of their earlier conversation.

After both parties walked ahead, the Emperor caught up to Perturabo and motioned forward, and soon, both were walking at a slow pace.

“WHAT AILS YOU, MY SON?” The Emperor asked, hoping that it would come out sounding as genuine worry. 

Perturabo paused, it was odd to hear his Father lay on the extra worry, but he decided to brush it off and just get this difficult conversation over with. Or else Magnus and Leman were going to come back and force it out of him with the help of the Space Wolves. As they both told him, honesty and bluntness is best for difficult conversations. “I see the Eye of Terror all the time and it is making my life hell.”

The Emperor’s mind suddenly slammed on all the brakes.

“WOT?”

“The Eye of Terror. It keeps staring at me. It won’t stop.” He could feel his confidence bleeding away. He was reacting just like Ferrus did. What if Magnus and Leman were pulling a joke on him!? Making him believe they believed him and now he was making himself sound as if he were a madman to their Father!? He shouldn’t have trusted them, this was bad- “Nevermind, you don’t see it do you-”

The Emperor suddenly grabbed onto both of Perturabo’s armoured shoulders and turned the Primarch around to face Him even as He grew to match Perturabo’s height and be face to face with His son.

“WHY THE FUCK DIDN’T YOU TELL ME SOONER?”

“Wait, you believe me?”

“OF COURSE I BELIEVE YOU! I’M THE MOTHERFUCKING EMPEROR, AND YOUR FATHER AT THAT YOUNG MAN.” Perturabo suddenly felt the Emperor’s mind probes, his mind calmly being invaded in an odd state of… relief? “HOLY SHIT.” The Emperor swore. “THAT’S A FUCKING BUG. IF I STILL WANTED TO TALK TO THOSE TUMORS AND HAD A CERTAIN PART OF ME, THERE WOULD BE A MASSIVE FLAMING SWORD GOING UP A CERTAIN REALITY TUMOR’S ASS.” The Emperor swore even as his eyes suddenly lit up with a golden light.

“So it was them!” Magnus was right! He shouldn’t have doubted his brother, but now, he was in a difficult situation. “Why are you acting so weird? Can this be fixed or not?”

“STAND STILL SONNY. WON’T TAKE BUT A MOMENT.” One of the Emperor’s arms flew out, the fingers of His hand covering Perturabo’s eyes even as the Emperor’s own flashed a brilliant gold before suddenly going back to their regular, brown coloured self. “THERE. BUG GONE.” The Emperor breathed, a worried look crossing his face. “PERTURABO. YOU COULD HAVE TOLD ME.”

Perturabo simply stood there, looking ahead at his father. Then… he leaned to the side and looked by the Emperor and outside of the view port which faced directly towards the Eye of Terror… or at least where it should be… where it once was.

“It’s… it’s _gone…_ ” He looked back to his Father, an unreadable look on his face, “Was… Was it really that easy to get rid of…?”

“NOT EVERYTHING HAS TO BE A SECRET, PERTURABO. THEY’RE NOT ALL A WEAKNESS, AND EVEN THEN, WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME BEFORE?”

He certainly didn’t feel his age with his Father asking these hard hitting questions. “I thought… No one would believe me. Ferrus didn't… So no one else would.” He paused, wanting to get it out, but… “I thought I could simply… Live with it.”

The Emperor reached out, both his arms yet again on his shoulders. “YOU WERE LIVING WITH A WARP LOCUS UPON YOUR MIND.” He explained. “IT WAS MAKING YOU THINK UNCLEARLY. IRRATIONALLY. IT WAS MAKING YOU LASH OUT.” The Emperor stepped back, seeming to realize suddenly the closeness to His son and allowing himself to fall back to normal height. “YOU COULDN’T HAVE LASTED MUCH LONGER. THE FACT THAT YOU DID FOR AS LONG…” The Emperor trailed off, letting the silence speak for Him.

He didn’t have the words to express himself. He didn’t know what to say, how to say it or how to even begin saying anything. He simply… Perturabo coughed as he turned away, having too much weighing on his mind. No, a simple thank you wasn’t good enough, he didn’t know what to say.

Settling on a nod at his Father, he would deny to his last living moments that he would then flee from the corridor.

The Emperor meanwhile remembered his own conversation with Horus just hours ago and called after his son. “IT WAS NO PROBLEM. HAPPY TO HELP.”

Perturabo at that moment had just rounded the corner and had to admit to himself… he thought he _was_ going crazy.

**...  
** **The Viewing Room - On board the** **_Bucephalus  
_ ** **...**

“Give me one good fucking reason on why I still have to be here.” Konrad was quick to get started on his everlasting spite and hatred of the viewing room. “Last I recall, we left here and promised we weren’t going to come back!”

“I have many things much more important than sitting around and watching vids. We are above my homeworld, and I would like to go down and get started on fixing the many problems we are now aware of.” Lion softly interjected, a frown on his face. “Yet here I am. Sitting here waiting for Father to come back in here. I haven’t even been able to shave.” He frowned even more at this, one of his arms going up to idly scratch as his growing beard.

“I think it looks great on yer’.” Leman complimented. “Makes yer’ look like a real man instead of an overgrown cat.” He chuckled at his joke, causing the Lion to grin in secret.

“Where, pray tell, have you been Leman? Last I recall, you were quick to leave the viewing room before any of us. Were you leading the pack or fleeing the air?” Lion quipped back, making the Wolf of Fenris grin at the banter.

“Ney, I was on that floating library of a ship that Magnus calls a Gloriana.” Leman threw back. 

“Surely, you were not _reading_ were you?” The Lion had a coy grin on his face.

“Oh _ney_ , I would never sink that low.” Leman chuckled. “Had a nice little chat.”

“Oh, I must admit that I am _curious_.” The Lion tilted his head.

“And I am hungry.” Magnus intervened, a good natured smile on his face. “Do you think father might allow us a spot of lunch? Didn’t have time for it back on the _Photep_.”

“Oh great, you’re back.” Konrad griped, lounging on his throne and wanting this pain to end. “Things were actually quiet without you here.”

“I imagine that the brooding atmosphere was indeed to your liking brother.” Magnus joked as he took his seat. “Quite fitting then that we light it up a bit again.”

“Ugh.” Konrad groaned. “And this is exactly why we all need to get some privacy, say, half the galaxy away from each other.”

“I concur.” Mortarion agreed, walking in and slumping down on his throne. “The vids are becoming increasingly uninformative and boring.” He groaned. “It pains my mind to even _think_ of what the next one we have to slug through will be about.”

“Maybe about you?” Lorgar called out from his throne. “Fate has a strange way of coming back to bite someone on the ass. Just like it did Konrad, maybe it will happen to you.”

“I doubt that.” Mortarion instantly responded. “I am a traitor, and a _Daemon_ Primarch to Nurgle. Or have you forgotten? And unlike certain other members of this family, I do not have my own brood running about somewhere.”

Leman was quick to place a hand on Magnus’ shoulder, keeping him down and also letting him know to not lash out. He shook his head towards the cyclops, who nodded reluctantly. “Anyway, where is everyone else?”

As if on cue, Perturabo chose this moment to enter. Quickly rushing to his throne without so much as a single word spoken as he sat down on the throne furthest away from any of the brothers. Not helped one bit by Rogal coming in next and sitting down next to him.

“Uhm, Perturabo.” Magnus asked, gently. “Is everything alright?”

“Too fine.” Perturabo muttered. “It went… too good…”

“Any reason on why yer sittin in the corner…?” Leman probed.

“No.”

“Leavin’ it at that.” Leman raised his arms, before leaning back in his throne and relaxing even as most of the other brothers began to trail in, all save for Angron. 

“I don’t even want to be here.” Roboute spoke up, buried in his data slate trying to get work done. “Do you have any idea how behind I am in my work? I thought all of us agreed we didn’t want to be around Father?”

“Honestly, I feel the same.” Corvus spoke up. “What are we even going to accomplish here? Another rousing round of ‘point the finger’ and threatening each other? How about we add in Father and he shouts us all down until no one else gets to or even wants to speak for that matter? That worked so well before.”

“As effective as an arrow to the heart of a rabbit.” Jaghatai intervened. “Whose hunter then gets knocked from his horse and snaps his neck.”

“And now you get to come in and start throwing verbal javelins at everyone. Must be great to feel so superior to everyone.” Konrad, not even wanting to look at everyone in the room, muttered from his throne. “Wonderful.”

“As fantastic as being an old woman who is stuck to her chair, making chai for the rest of her life and grumbling about how things are not going for her.”

“Can we _please_ stop with the verbal sparring.” Sanguinius started. “We are all going to be suffering through this, might as well do it without the traditional verbal shivs.”

“I was there for the last one, I do not want to be caught in the crossfire.” Roboute glanced up, shook his head then went back down to organizing the logistics of not just his legion but also for Ultramar and just about everything else his father had been asking him to do.

“I APOLOGIZE FOR MY TARDINESS.” The Emperor excused himself, walking in. “I WAS… DISTRACTED BY AN UNEXPECTED MOMENT.” He walked ahead, quickly sitting down next to Horus.

A minute of uncomfortable and sudden silence passed by before the Emperor suddenly realized that there was no vid playing and…

“WHERE, PRAY TELL, IS MAGOS LEHM?”

“Here Omnissiah.” The Magos waved one of his mechadendrites from the door even as he walked to his place by the projector, massive cup of recaff held in another of his mechadendrites, going to his mouth for a sip every now and then as the Magos performed the rites of activation upon the holoprojector. “Holovid please.”

The Emperor looked around at all of his sons, all of the aforementioned Primarchs sitting stiff and uncomfortable on their thrones. All save for Lorgar… who was holding a holovid.

“I GUESS LORGAR.” The Emperor shrugged. “SINCE NO ONE ELSE IS OFFERING UP ONE.”

Lorgar offered the video to the Magos, staring coldly at Mortarion as he did so. The Magos took the vid and began the rites, trying to ignore how much pressure and tension was in the air. He needed a vacation…

The vid started, and the family looked to the screen, watching as how it came to life and-

**...  
** **_???.M?? - The Warp  
_ ** **_..._ **

Sanguinius: “Why are we in the warp of all places!?”  
Guilliman: “Well, who exactly is this extras following?”  
Lion: “Excuse me for pointing out the obvious, but considering it is the warp, and it is an extras, we are going to see one of us who has gone traitor. The question is only, who?”  
Horus: “Now that you’re speaking again, I’m frankly, frightened.”  
Lorgar: “I’ll answer that question for you. Free of charge.” *Smiles at Mortarion* “It’s about Mortarion.”  
Mortarion: “What.”

She felt as her body convulsed. Every single muscle suddenly spasmed as the disease took hold but was immediately beaten back by her un-natural healing factor, it destroying the invader to the cellular level in but an instant.

And yet it still hurt.

It pained her down to her very soul, knowing that such a disease would be released upon her children and all the living beings of the cruel, dark world which she had once inhabited.

But the Materium was far, _far_ out of her reach here. Here in her rusted cage in the heart of Nurgle’s domain.

She felt as the tears streamed down her cheeks, forming into crystals as they fell out of the Warp along with her whispers of a cure. It was the least she could do… the _only_ thing she could do…

Emperor: “WAIT. IS THAT WHO I THINK IT IS?”  
Magnus: “Depends. Who do you _think_ it might be?”  
Emperor: “WELL, MAYBE-”

 **“קคђ!”** She heard Nurgle exclaim from behind her lying form. **“ร๏ ๓ยςђ קг๏๓เรє, ร๏ ๓ยςђ l๏שєlא ק๏tєภtเคl.”** He was lecturing the poison which he had just cooked up and tested on her. Lecturing it as if it was alive and could apologize… to be honest, it sometimes could.

Emperor: “YUP. IT’S HER AND **HIM**. REMIND TO PUNCH THAT WALKING HAPPY ROTTING BUBBLE OF BOILS THE NEXT TIME I SEE HIM.”  
Magnus: “Hooow and who is it?”  
Emperor: “YOU’LL SEE.”  
Magnus: *Noises of dying* “Don’t fucking know why I expected an answer…”  
Horus: *Facepalms*

She heard and felt the thumps of his massive, rotting legs as he walked over to his still bubbling cauldron. With every step that monster took, skin and material fell from his body, shaping into giggling children of filth, running from the creature they spawned from, and open dragging wounds in his body. Once he was close enough, he grabbed onto that wretched cauldron filled with the poison and tipped it over, sending the disease into the Materium, where it would fester and plague upon the poor menials…

Her tears continued to stream down her face and form into crystals. She hoped they would at least be of use. No one deserved to suffer the fate of this disease-

 **“** **๓໐rtคri໐ຖ! ๓ฯ Ş໐ຖ, ฯ໐น hคงē ¢໐๓ē ๖ค¢k t໐ ๓ē!** **”**

Lorgar: “Roll credits and get the popped corn.”   
Mortarion: “Oh for- it’s not as if we haven’t all seen my bloated, future self. I fail to see the big deal about it all.”  
Konrad: “Well, from all we have seen so far, and according to my _personal experience.._. These ‘extras’ tend to be about the future versions of us having children.”  
Mortarion: “I fail to see the meaning of your implications.”

Mortarion? Nurgle’s Daemon prince and favourite pet; what was he doing here? Typically he avoided the domain and stuck to the Plague World. 

**“Grandfather.”** She heard the rasp of the ancient respirator he wore as it struggled to transmit the Daemon Prince’s words. **“The last of my kin are gone from my sight.”**

Mortarion: “See? I’m a Daemon Prince for crying out loud! How would _I_ even have children?”  
Lorgar: “Well… I see one option…”

That sent yet another tremor through her body. The last of the Emperor’s offspring were now either in the service of the gods of Chaos or gone… humanity was doomed…

A disgusting sounding chuckle answered Mortarion as Nurgle sounded to have walked closer to him. **“** **ງ໐໐໓ ງ໐໐໓! ฯ໐น ໓i໓ Ş໐ ຟēll!** **”** The noise of flesh suddenly squeezing against rotting ceramite reverberated across the room even as pustules burst and maggots sprayed from open wounds. **“คhh, thiŞ hคŞ ๓ค໓ē thiŞ ๓໐๓ēຖt นຖf໐rງēttค๖lē.”** She heard Nurgle positively purr as he hugged his Daemon Prince.

 **“Yes…”** The… _hesitant_ voice answered? Hesitant?

She forced herself to turn, ignoring the pain and spasms to risk a better look and… yes. Yes… Mortarion looked much the same as he always had. ‘Blessed’ by Nurgle’s many ‘gifts’ but… his face. That emotion it showed. There was no doubt in her mind, not a single one as to what it was.

_Disgust._

The same disgust that she lived through every single moment here in Nurgle’s presence, reflected into his own face at this moment. He was not truly dedicated to the grasp of Nurgle and his infernal gardens, if he was he would be showing the truest of joys at being so close to his patron god.

Perhaps… Perhaps there was a chance… A small chance, the smallest of glimmers was still within him, was still able to glow in the dark embrace he was entrapped in.

 **“i ค๓ Ş໐ hคppฯ thคt ฯ໐น’rē fiຖคllฯ ค¢¢ēptiຖງ ๓ฯ l໐งē คຖ໓ ງนi໓คຖ¢ē! if ໐ຖlฯ thē rēŞt ໐f thē ๖໐ฯŞ ຟ໐นl໓ ๖ē คŞ ໐๖ē໓iēຖt คŞ ฯ໐น.”** Nurgle purred, running a slimy, disgusting hand over Mortarion’s crown, placing the Primarch down patting and his head like a small canid who brought in the paper. **“ງrคຖ໓fคthēr hคŞ วนŞt rēlēคŞē໓ ค ຟ໐ຖ໓ērfนl plคງนē, i Şhคll ¢คll นp໐ຖ ฯ໐น ຟhēຖ thē ti๓ē iŞ riງht. ງ໐ คຖ໓ rēŞt, ๓ฯ ¢hค๓pi໐ຖ.”**

Sanguinius: “... I think I am going to vomit.”  
Leman: “Point it away from me!”  
Angron: “...what’s the point of this?”  
Lorgar: “Point? Getting back at Mortarion?”  
Angron: “And? Does it really have to be a fucking point? I’m fucking tired of this. I’m tired of being here, watching these vids, all I want to do is talk to my son-” *snaps shut*  
Roboute: “ _I don’t want to be a father, Guilliman. I don’t care about him, Guilliman. This is all a waste of time, Guilliman. I don’t want to be like you, Guilliman._ ”  
Angron: “And I’m not! You’re the one obsessed over a child that doesn’t fucking exist!”  
Roboute: *Immediately stands up* “You take that back right this instant or I swear I will-”  
Emperor: “ **BOTH OF YOU SHUT UP OR I WILL LECTURE YOU TWO NEXT. WE ARE GOING TO SIT DOWN AND HAVE A NICE TIME LAUGHING AT MORTARION OR SO HELP ME I WILL FIND A WAY TO TAN BOTH YOUR HIDES MENTALLY, PHYSICALLY AND SPIRITUALLY.** ”  
Horus: “Oh, for fucks sake… It’s been five minutes…”  
Magnus: “Three, actually.”  
Angron: “Hng. Fine. We’ll laugh at Mortarion. Cause that’s all this family can do right, can it?”  
Emperor: “IMPERIAL DECREE, SHUT UP ANGRON. FOR 10 MINUTES.”  
Horus: “How is that enforceable!?”  
Emperor: “I DON’T KNOW, BUT THAT’S NOT MY PROBLEM. ALL ANY OF YOU HAVE TO DO IS FOLLOW MY ORDERS.”  
Horus: “This is not what I… nevermind.”  
Corvus: “Going better than normal so far.”

She could see the revulsion in his eyes, the concealed hatred, and disgust that he felt when touched by the Chaos God. He was free to leave, Nurgle was quick to begin brewing again and wasn’t looking. His festering wounds swimming with maggots and sprouting nurglings, which were focused on their grandfather, leaving his ‘champion’ to leave. He was turned away and had just begun to leave the chamber with all due haste, thankfully he would be passing by her cage.

Just one chance, that was all she needed. Just one chance for him to get close enough to get away from Nurgle. No matter how much her body screamed out in pain, no matter how much it ached from the latest attack of Nurgle’s creation, she had to try.

Seething in his hatred and disgust, he passed by the cage that held her, not even paying attention to the xeno witch when she reached a hand out to his. What he did pay attention to was the moment, the split second they touched.

Her fingertips brushed against his hand and suddenly, _everything_ was wrong.

Mortarion: “Wait what-”

That fraction of a second turned his hand completely different from the rest of his body, the hand had been cleansed and was healthy as the day he saw it last before the grasp of Nurgle had taken hold of him. But it was not the hand that surprised him, it was something deeper.

It was the peace he felt. For a fraction of a second, he was at peace. He did not feel the disgust he had felt for so long anymore, he felt nothing. He could breathe perfectly fine, for just that fraction of a second, he was able to think for that fraction. He felt… He felt as if something had broken off of him, something that was hanging off of his being had been cut off, the tiny thread was severed. He felt...

He felt free, nothing weighing him down, his soul lighter than it had ever been in his entire existence, making him capable of completely clear thought. No longer under the grasp of Nurgle. He felt _free.._.

Then it was over.

Mortarion: “What the FUCK.”  
Magnus: “It looks as if she somehow, if temporarily… severed your connection to Nurgle!?”  
Lorgar: “Uhm, I know that I am new to this but… wouldn’t that require _immense_ amounts of power?”  
Magnus: “Yes! Yes it would! In fact, not even I am powerful enough to stop that kind of connection.”  
Emperor: “SHE IS THOUGH.”  
Mortarion: “HOW.”  
Emperor: “AS MUCH AS I HATE SAYING IT, FOR THE SAKE OF ALL OF YOU UNDERSTANDING IT BETTER, SHE’S A GOD.”  
Sanguinius: “Well then… didn’t see that one coming. Say… does that mean that Mortarion ends up with…” *Trails off as he realizes* “No… no way.”  
Konrad: *rising laughter* “Bird boy, you can’t spoil it. She’s the only female present so far, unless we want to assume Morty boy over there wants a thick husky-”  
Mortarion: “Imply I want to sleep with Nurgle one more time and I will tear your head off with my hands and cart your head on a spike.”  
Lorgar: “So what you are telling us is that you would rather sleep with the xeno Godde-” *Ducks and dodges a shot of plasma from the Lantern* “Message received.”  
Corvus: “This viewing is going along wonderfully. We’re such a stable family.”  
Angron: *Tries to agree, but can’t open his mouth* 

That feeling of peace was flooded with memories, thoughts, feelings, everything was rushing back to him in the second fraction of that second. Memories of his life before becoming a daemon prince, memories of the Great Crusade, memories of his time on Barbarus, memories of his Father... Memories of his brothers…

...Memories of who he used to be...

His hand jerked away from her touch. Drawing away from it as if he had just been burnt. The disgust inside of his being reaching another height as the hand raised into the air and prepared to swat away whatever plant of Nurgle it was that had caused the hallucination.

He swung around his massive, bloated, corpse of a body as he did so. His hand already striking towards his target.

Only for it to inexplicably stop.

There, before him, was an Aeldari. He had heard of this one before. This one was _special._ Special in all the filthy, disgusting, witch ways that their manipulative race was known for.

_Isha._

Magnus: “Holy shit! Of course it’s her!”  
Leman: “Who?”  
Magnus: “The Aeldari Goddess of motherhood, nature, fertility, they sometimes call her the tree of life itself-”  
Leman: “Yggdrasil?”  
Magnus: “Ye- Yes. How do you know that one?”  
Leman: “Who?”  
Magnus: “You just- wait. Are you pulling my leg?”  
Leman: “Who?”  
Magnus: “You! You-” *stops and breaks into laughter*  
Leman: *Laughs* “I got you with that one!”  
Magnus: “Okay fine, you got me.” *Chuckles*  
Horus: “...when did you two become so… chummy?”  
Magnus: *Points at Perturabo* “Since he came and-” *Realizes that Perturabo looks as if he is regretting his entire life* “-and uh… we talked.”  
Horus: *Looks over at Perturabo who is being poked every now and then by Rogal* “Good talk.”  
Ferrus: “Hold on- you all fixed your problem by talking to each other?”  
Magnus: “Yeah, funny how that works.”  
Ferrus: “No, I’m surprised that works at all.”  
Corvus: *Head snaps up* “Well fuck me. Actually going better than normal.”

His mind spat the word as if it was poison. The thoughts of even brushing up against the xeno slumped against the cage making him gag-

**“๓໐rtคri໐ຖ! ຟhฯ iŞ it thคt ฯ໐น คrē h໐l໓iຖງ ค hคຖ໓ ค๖໐งē ๓ฯ ๖ēl໐งē໓ ງนēŞt?”**

Nurgle’s inquiry sent yet another, stronger feeling of disgust was sent through his body.

 **“No reason.** **_Grandfather._ ** **”**

He turned and left then, his cataract filled, milky white eyes looking at her from the corners of his hood even as he left the room.

**...  
 _M??.??? - The Warp  
..._ **

Sanguinius: “Warp time is so helpful.”  
Konrad: “It’s because you can’t tell if you’re missing your precious content or not.”  
Sanguinius: “YES, AND I HATE IT.”

She was sitting on the floor of the rusted cage. It had been a while since Nurgle had tried one of his creation’s on her and that left her more free time. Time she had used to think. Think about Mortarion.

Sanguinius: “Yes, yes, time. Time. Hmmm. An amount. Not sure how much but, time.”  
Horus: “Calm down, it could-”  
Leman: “I have an idea. A new measure of time, call it a Sanguinius’. Measure how long time can go before it annoys someone.”

It appeared as if he had responded strangely well to her touch. Far far too well for someone under the touch of Nurgle. His mind had clarified in an instant and his hand, the hand she had touched, it healed just as fast.

She knew that the Emperor had made his sons special. But to such a degree as this? The energy he had absorbed at that moment had truly left her spent, having her to slump against the cage. The poison combined with such a violent reaction taking what little energy she had left.

Could it be? Could he be shown the true reality of his existence?

He obviously already did not feel welcome in this existence, quite revolted by it in fact.

Normal beings under the sway of Nurgle or any of the other Chaos god could not form new memories not altered by their Patron. But she could see, see as his eyes that had lingered upon her as he left the room, told quite another story to that.

He had _formed a new memory._ A memory without the sway of Nurgle to manipulate it. But most importantly, he had _remembered_.

If he could keep the new memories and remember the old ones… he could be freed…

She could not help her children anymore than she already did now, perhaps she could do so for those of man?

Lorgar: “That… is surprisingly selfless coming from a xeno goddess.”  
Mortarion: “What does she want from me? A xeno never does anything out of the goodness of their heart.”  
Guilliman: * _Slowly_ looks over. Opens his mouth as is he is about to say something but shuts himself up* 

Was man destined to succeed in the rulership of the stars underneath the Emperor? She could not answer. He was an enigma even to her, an Aeldari goddess. A being of such anonymity and one of such anathema to the gods of chaos that it baffled her. What caused his creations? How was it done? Mankind was far too primitive in the arts of the Immaterium to create one such as him…

And somehow, He had created the Primarchs. 

They were Masterworks. Masterworks upon which she could feel the mark of Chaos. Knowledge of the primordial annihilator marked upon their very soul. But not upon their owner…

How? How had it come to pass? When a soul found a new owner, it should have passed entirely. Especially one which had been made using their ways…

And yet, his remained in the arms of-

**“๓໐rtคri໐ຖ! ฯ໐น hคงē ¢໐๓ē t໐ งiŞit ๓ē!”**

Sanguinius: *Snaps hand rest clean off* “Oh come on!”  
Emperor: “SANGUINIUS. I DON’T WANT TO GET FRUSTRATED WITH YOU, SO PLEASE CAN YOU CONTAIN YOURSELF?”  
Sanguinius: “Y-yes Father.”  
Konrad: “So lovely to see you outright favoring certain Primarchs.”

 **“Grandfather…”** She heard the pained gurgle of Mortarion’s voice.

**“Ş໐ຖ?”**

She looked up, just in time to see Mortarion bend over, his hand propping himself up against a rotting table. 

**“ຟhคt iŞ ຟr໐ຖງ ๓ฯ priຖ¢ē?”** She heard Nurgle speak as he rushed over. **“ຟhคt คilŞ ฯ໐น?”** She saw as he reached for him, turning him over to see a gaping hole in his chest, leaking blood and spewing maggots. **“ຟh໐ hคŞ ໓໐ຖē thiŞ t໐ ฯ໐น ๓ฯ Ş໐ຖ?”** Nurgle spoke in outrage, even as one of his hands reached out to tenderly poke at the wound.

Strange… she thought she could see-

Horus: “Wait a minute-Didn’t Guilliman, when he came back, he and Father… Oh.”  
Mortarion: “When _someone_ cut open my chest and _inscribed_ their name on my _heart_.”  
Horus: “Oh. It’s that one… sorry. Just, that well, you are seen to get a lot of beatings throughout these vids, so sometimes it’s hard to remember which is which… I’m making this worse, aren’t I?”  
Mortarion: “Frak you.”

**_“คງhh!”_ **

She saw as Nurgle backpedalled, holding out the hand with which he had touched his Daemon Prince as it rotted away in a trail of golden light even as Nurgle ran out of his room, calling upon his creations.

Horus: “Alright, so that might just have been Father.”  
Emperor: “WHAT AUTOMATICALLY MAKES YOU THINK I HAD ANYTHING TO DO WITH THIS?”  
Fulgrim: “Father, everything you do includes gold or golden light. Especially when concerning the wounds of daemons.”  
Emperor: “IT’S A SUPERIOR COLOR.”  
Fulgrim: “If that is what you wish to believe.”  
Emperor: “AND THAT’S A 20 MINUTES FROM YOU, YOUNG MAN.”  
Fulgrim: “What!?” *Lips sealed*  
Horus: “FATHER.”  
Emperor: “HE WAS ASKING FOR IT THIS TIME.”  
Konrad: “Not going to say I disagree.”

Mortarion meanwhile had slumped back down upon the rotting table. His breathing laboured, his face showing the obvious pain that he was in.

It wasn’t long before she heard the faint creaking sound as the already weakened table broke, sending Mortarion falling to the ground, landing by her cage, stomach side up.

He was dying… she could see it. Whatever had hurt him had done so very successfully. The wound almost emitted a faint golden glow, coming from the runes or letters carved upon a still beating heart. She could not read what was written upon it. All she knew was that he would die if it remained as such.

Unless…

Slowly. Almost at an unseeable pace, she reached forward with her hand, going out in between the bars and towards his gaping chest wound. She had almost made it when it was grabbed by Mortarion’s gauntleted hand.

She looked over to his face, seeing that he was looking at her in complete and utter fear and panic. His hood falling back and revealing the rotting, maggot infested, pale skin.

She knew the feeling that he was experiencing. It wasn’t simply fear. It was helplessness. The same kind that she had felt when she had asked for aid so so long ago now and Nurgle had answered…

But she looked back and his chest and saw his eyes follow her to it. He knew he was going to die. He had to.

His head swayed between her and his wound, until finally with a pained groan he let go of her arm.

She smiled at him then, full of kindness and benevolence. No one deserved to suffer. Not even her captor’s greatest servant.

Lorgar: “Uhm… that smile doesn’t look like one of the bad kind.”  
Magnus: “Not all xeno’s are evil, especially not the Aeldari goddess of _benevolence_ and life.”  
Mortarion: “We get it, you’re a xeno lover!”  
Magnus: “If this vid goes where I think it is, so will you.”  
Mortarion: “Never in my life will I ever want to, or be forced to ever lay or touch a xeno! Much less a xeno witch goddess!”  
Leman: “Technically sayin’ yer’ layin’ with her right-”  
Mortarion: “Finish that sentence and I swear…”  
Roboute: “...I don’t even want to be here.”

Slowly, she reached for his exposed heart with her hand, grasping and almost cradling it even as he gasped in pain even as a white light began to shine from his heart and the memories assaulted his mind.

In such close contact… she saw them too.

Such… wonderful memories of such a simpler time. Of simple hard work, simple people. Of sons that had loved and obeyed him… of betrayal. Of war. Of tyrants and brothers. Of death and deception. Of…

The light faded as she slowly pulled back her arm even as skin and muscle grew back and quickly became corrupted with the touch of Nurgle.

She stared at him as he looked down upon his chest and stood without a word. Showing his back to her. She knew he would never thank her, would never so much as even truly acknowledge her. But while he was still at least partially free from Nurgle’s touch, she could send him one final revelation.

In her connection to him, she had had just enough time to relay the entirety of the Imperial Gothic Lexicon into her own mind. It was a simple language with simple yet straightforward words. But they would carry her meaning well enough…

“You are a slave. Just as I.”

Angron: *Raises eyebrow* “Good words for a xeno witch.”

He turned and looked at her then. His eyes wide with surprise before his face became twisted in rage. He sneered at her and then marched out as quickly as he could. Isha knowing that he no doubt felt every bit as torn on the inside as he was on the out.

**...  
 _??.??? - The Warp  
..._ **

Sanguinius: *Angry breathing*  
Leman: “Oh look, another Sanguinius just passed.”  
Sanguinius: “That’s not funny!”  
Jaghatai: *Snorts* “Agree to disagree.”

Nothing. Fucking. Helped anymore!

Nothing. Not the eternal torment of his foster father’s eternally damned soul. Not the scouring of Ultramar and not even the attempted killing of his brother.

Horus: “Oh! That’s the beating I remember!”  
Mortarion: “Again, frak you.”

In fact, that had made it worse; far, far worse. Yet another unforeseen wrench thrown into his carefully constructed plans, yet another massive roadblock which wouldn’t leave his head no matter what else he thought of, no matter what he focused on…

_“You are a slave. Just as I.”_

**“Stop!”** He shouted to no one in particular as he paced around his decrepit chambers on board the _Endurance_.

It was as if the words were carved into his memory- ney, into his very _soul._ What had the witch done?! What else had she done when she healed him?! Did she put a curse upon him?! A psychic trick with which she attempted to break his stalwart defense?!

He continued to pace, his breathing laboured and coming out in great puffs of air in between unhealthy sounding coughs.

The plan had been rather simple after that event. Go out into the stars to fight alongside the rest of the Legion in killing whatever pathetic thing the Imperium had become.

But then, _he_ had returned. Roboute Guilliman. The Avenging Son, the Lord Commander, the Imperial Regent, the Primarch of the former thirteenth legion, _his brother._

His presence had not merely thrown a wrench into Mortarion’s plans. It had outright annihilated them. Macragge was gone. Doomed to die in the fires of the thirteenth Black Crusade, until Roboute Guilliman’s strategic genius turned the tide of not just the battle for his Chapter’s homeworld, but of the entire damned crusade.

Horus: “I still find it surprising just how much of a presence and amount of influence one of us has.”  
Perturabo: “...You're an idiot to think that… but… ok.” *Still has a faraway look on his face*

Mortarion shouldn’t have been surprised. Guilliman could move and place entire legion’s worth of troops with but the ease of a single command.

But Mortarion had decided to wait with bated breath. Unlike Fulgrim, he wouldn’t give Guilliman a reason to suspect an attack from him. Unlike that pompous parasite, Guilliman would never see him coming.

Fulgrim: *Hmmphs at that*

He took the opportunity as soon as his brother had left for Terra. No doubt to visit their corpse of a father. 

He sallied forth with the entirety of the Death Guard and Nurgle’s festering might. Plunging a rotten dagger deep into Ultramar’s heart.

All the while thinking of her words.

_“You are a slave. Just as I.”_

He was not! He was not! Not, not **NOT** a slave! How could he be? He led the assault personally, even managing to convince his traitorous son Typhus to join in the assault. He had driven Guilliman’s fledgling realm to its knees.

This was not the will of Nurgle, it was the will of **him**! By his own action would Guilliman fall prey to Silence, would succumb to reality.

Or so he thought…

When Guilliman had returned, the last remaining might of the Indomitus Crusade at his back, he had come with a Legion’s worth of Marines. Like the Warmaster so many millennia before, his brother had struck back with the power of a legion.

Roboute: “There is a difference between I and the Warmaster. I learn from my mistakes.”  
Horus: *Wants to say something, but stops and sighs* “Fair enough. Future me made a lot of mistakes.”

His advance was halted in his tracks. His sons were wiped from existence. Typhus, defeated by a Grey Knight, sent screaming back into the Warp. All the while on Iax, Mortarion had enacted his grand plan.

He had him! Ensnared in his trap, Silence raised and already falling for his neck, ready to claim his head!

But then… then… **_He_ ** had come.

Like Death itself had strolled onto the battlefield in the form of an innocent little girl.

Innocent… no. Not if one had looked closely. Nothing as _evil_ as his father could ever even look remotely like that girl.

The eyes. The _eyes_ were key. They were hollow, like dark, golden, gaping pits into nothingness, swallowing anything and everything they had landed upon.

The closer he came, the more unbearable the atmosphere became. Like the screaming of a million souls. Like a choir of tortured existence. Like the feeling of pure and utter death, He had manifested.

Ku’Gath had saved him the obviousness of who had just come.

The _Anathema._ The end of Chaos. The Ruler of all of Man. The King of all human Kings. 

The Emperor had come for _him_.

This was not the father he had known. This was a being twisted into pure and utter rage as it sought the ultimate vengeance and drove fear into Mortarion’s very _soul_.

He felt as if he was being swallowed whole. His connection to Nurgle, gone. His brilliant mind utterly overridden by one simple, primitive, instinct…

**Run.**

Lorgar: “That’s uhm… one hell of an amount of power.”  
Magnus: “The fear that it would take to make a Primarch actually… yeah, no, what? What? What happened to the future you father?”  
Rogal: “Taking into calculation the fact that the tumors upon reality, as father has so aptly dubbed them, fear his very presence. Father in the future is… different.”  
Emperor: “TO BE FULLY HONEST, I THINK THAT SIMPLY FUTURE ME IS JUST EXTREMELY PRAGMATIC AND ABSOLUTELY DONE WITH EVERYONE’S SHIT.”  
Horus: “And apparently, incredibly terrifying.”  
Angron: “And I’m done with your shit now. I’d leave if I could.”  
Horus: “Could? Hold on, how did Father get all of you back in here? Last I recall, everyone was so angry and disappointed last time, all of you left.”  
Angron: “Did the golden patriarch not tell you? He didn’t ask for us to come back into the viewing room! He **ordered** us back here!”  
Horus: “What?”  
Lion: “It was an order. Hence why I voiced my discontent before and why everyone is against this.”  
Roboute: “It’s true. Even I don't want to be here any longer.”  
Corvus: “Let us be honest. We are all family and have certain respect and maybe even love for each other, but for the sake of our sanity, all of us constantly being together is no good for our mental health.”  
Emperor: “I WANT TO TRY AND FIX THIS, SO WILL ALL OF YOU STOP COMPLAINING AND SIT THERE AND WATCH THE DAMNED VID!?”  
Konrad: “Is that… **_an order_ **?”  
Vulkan: “Father is not helping Konrad, but you do not have to be an asshole about it.”  
Horus: *Stares in shock and mutters to himself* “Maybe tensions are a bit high…”

And so he did. What choice did he have!? Already his creator’s powers had thrown him so far away that he saw Guilliman free and recover even as the remaining Death Guard were cut down. This fight was over. He had lost.

From so far away, even as he turned and flew, he could _feel_ the eyes of the Anathema upon him. It sent shivers down his spine. Never before had he felt such fear. Never before had he reacted so primitively. 

He did not stop flying until he had re-entered the Warp and had managed to find the _Endurance_ , where he had immediately locked himself into his personal chambers even as Nurgle called him home to protect the great Garden from the forces of Khorne.

Worst of all, it still felt as if _he_ was _here_. In this very room, watching him…

What had become of him? Become of his creator? Never before had he felt this… savage…

He had far too many questions. Questions he did not have time for, he needed to gather what was left of his forces and strike at Guilliman’s flank’s whilst his forces were still gathered upon Iax-

But wait… he needed to return to the Garden to defend it…

But he wanted to kill Guilliman! He was sure of it! It was his duty, his _destiny…_

But he needed to defend the Gardens…

But he wanted to kill Guilliman-

Defend the Garden-

Kill Guilliman-

Defend-

Horus: “Woah! Wait- wait wha- what? What’s going on!?”  
Magnus: “As… stupid as this may sound, I think Mortarion might be having the psychic version of an existential crisis.”

What was happening to him!? **_What was he thinking!?_ **He grabbed at his head with both of his hands even as a massive migraine began to take hold.

Defend- Kill - Defend - Kill - DEFEND - **KILL - DEFEND!**

**"Aghh!"**

He took hold of his head even harder as it felt as if it was being split in half. What was happening to him!? His mind felt as if it was exploding, his being felt as if it was being torn apart, his thoughts had become nothing more than incoherent memories.

_“You are a slave. Just as I.”_

Foam began to be pushed out of his mouth and through the slots of the respirator.

_Hollow, like dark, golden, gaping pits into nothingness, swallowing anything and everything they had landed upon._

His body spasmed uncontrollably as he desperately attempted to control himself.

_She smiled at him then, full of kindness and benevolence._

He let out a roar. One of complete and utter confusion and pain.

_The Emperor had come for him._

He fell over and onto the rotting adamantium deck of his ship, the spasms, migraine, pain and ruined memories taking over as it all faded into darkness…

Mortarion: “...Did I just frakking die over an existential crisis!?”  
Leman: “Isn’t the medical term an aneurysm-”  
Mortarion: “SHUT UP LEMAN I AM THE APOTHECARY HERE-”  
Emperor: “AND MASSIVE PSYCHIC TRAUMA.”  
Ferrus: “Ironic.”

**...  
** **_M??.??? - The Warp  
…_ **

She couldn’t remember the exact instance of when he had faded into existence in Nurgle’s chamber, but she could see him. Seeing how he had changed, she could feel how much chaos his soul was in at that very moment. 

What had happened? At one point Nurgle had been tending to his cauldron of boiling disease as always and in the next he had gone, if he was to be believed, to oversee the invasion of his Garden by the forces of the Blood God.

And now she had found herself before an oddly familiar sight, Mortarion lying in front of her cage, breathing heavily as he came to, and her observing him.

Finally, his breathing went from steady to ragged, his head snapping in her direction even as he raised himself to his full, towering, height. 

**“What have you done to me?”** He ground out, his voice sounding pained and full of anguish even as he appeared to almost stumble.

Magnus: “Oh of course, blame the xeno.”  
Mortarion: “Shut up.”  
Magnus: “Why? You clearly know that-”  
Mortarion: “Shut it!”

“I-” She began, thinking over her answer. “Nothing, I just-”

 **“LIAR!”** His voice thundered across the room even as he stumbled, leaning against her cage for support even as he glared down at her. **“Liar, liar, LIAR!”** With each roaring scream, his hands beat the cage, shaking her prison and jostling her backward to look up at the raging Primarch. “ **LIAR!** ” He shouted one final time, his head shaking in vehement denial. **“You have poisoned me!”**

“I- I did nothing of the like-”

 **“CEASE WITH YOUR LYING!”** He shouted yet again in desperation, one of his hands going up to cradle his aching head. **“Everything… everything hurts…”** He moaned even as she attempted to reach for him, only to have her hand swatted away. **“I am NOT A SLAVE! I AM NOT-NOT-** **NOT!”**

The entirety of the chamber shook with such violence that she thought it would collapse. When Nurgle stood before her and fed her his creations, or even did worse, she did not fear him as much as she did Mortarion now. While Nurgle did what he did out of his own version of sickly love and torment, Mortarion was another beast altogether, he was unpredictable.

Angron: “Now you know how it feels.”  
Mortarion: “Fuck you too.”  
Sanguinius: “I realize that things are getting heated and that we are seeing you in a vulnerable moment-”  
Mortarion: “Your not fucking helping either brother.”  
Sanguinius: *Raises hands* “Fine, fine. No need to shout it out.”

But… he needed to know the truth. If he did, then the bonds could be broken…

“You are, just like me.” She told him in such a gentle and quiet whisper that he most likely barely heard it. “That torment inside of you… it’s because the contract of your soul is calling you to fulfill it but you now have the memories to fight it. It’s…” She looked him in his eyes. “It’s tearing your soul apart.”

“ **LIAR!** ” He shook her cage violently, eyes desperately darting along her face, searching for something. “ **What is your game, xeno!? Tell me!** ” He shook her cage again, causing her to cry out as she tumbled to the bottom of it. “ **Do you enjoy toying with me!? Have you achieved your fancy!? Are you not entertained by the ravings of a broken man!?** ” He twisted his hands upon the bars, caking them in the filth and rust covering the cage. **“Do you see why I hunted down and slaughtered your kind!? Do you see what you did to me!?”**

Guilliman: “Hold on, did Mortarion just say that he was a ‘broken man’?”  
Lorgar: “Oh, yes he did.”  
Vulkan: “I think that perhaps, we should stop watching.”  
Lorgar: “Oh hell no, this is juicy stuff-” *Dodges a shot from Lantern even as Mortarion stands and is restrained by Horus and Magnus*  
Mortarion: “Say that again you zealous fanatic of a failure! Say it again! **I fucking dare you!”  
** Lorgar: “Oh, so now you don’t like it when it’s someone else's dirty laundry getting aired.”  
Mortarion: “I’m going to fucking kill you!”  
Emperor: **“SILENCE!** SIT BACK DOWN!”  
Corvus: *Facepalms* _“Great… just… fantastic.”_

“I-I never-” She desperately tried to reason with him. “I didn’t mean to-” The cage shook again, this time far _far_ more violently, throwing her up with hands desperately trying to grasp onto the bars and save herself from more bodily harm. Causing her to accidentally brush against his hands.

The vision came quick. A vision of gaping, hollow, dark, golden pits. Of them staring at Mortarion of them- staring at _her._

Magnus: “What in all the spires of Prospero was that!?”  
Mortarion: *Stares in shock* “What in the fuck happened to me? What did I see?”  
Horus: *Lets go of Mortarion* “That looked like… well, I don’t want to say it but-”  
Emperor: “ME.”

She let go at the next instant, backing away and squeezing herself into the corner of her cage, her eyes as wide as possible, her mouth opening and closing as words failed her. The sight wouldn’t leave her mind, the feelings sprouting from that sight gnawed at her as she stuttered out her next words. “He-He-He touched you!”

“ **What do you mean.** ” He ground out, hands shaking in rage as he brought his face closer to the cage, reducing the space between them as he closed in on his unwanted prey. “ **Speak. Now!** ” He rattled the cage once more.

“He-He marked you!” She breathed out in horror. “Mortarion… He marked you…” She babbled, trying to compose herself. “Vindictus… the Emperor- He’s- He’s coming for you.”

Lorgar: “I uh- have to admit, I don’t like the sound of that name.”  
Emperor: “NEITHER DO I.”  
Magnus: “Or I for that matter! The hell is going on?”  
Vulkan: “Again, maybe we should stop watching?”  
Lorgar: “No. He made his bed, now he has to lie in it.”  
Vulkan: “Two wrongs do not make a right, brother.”

He stopped, he couldn’t think. His mind tried to comprehend what she spoke of, connecting in half a second as it all made sense and made him even angrier. So much anger oozed from him, it began to burn his surroundings, how intense his rage was at the moment. “ **He comes for me!? Is that all you can say to me!? Speak sense! He wouldn’t dare come for me, he wouldn’t! I wanted the truth from you, not a threat!** ”

“You- you don’t understand!” She cried. “You aren’t safe here- anywhere in fact!” She breathed. 

“ **What. Do. You. Mean.** ”

“Mortarion… He will _never_ stop haunting you.” She gulped. “I don’t mean hunt- I mean _haunt_ .” She sounded as if she was on the brink of crying. “He wants you _back._ ”

Emperor: *Feels a chill go up his spine* “OH. IT’S THAT PART OF ME.”  
Magnus: “What ‘part’ of you, are you talking about?”  
Emperor: “THE ONE THAT IS STUCK ON THE GOLDEN THRONE.”  
Sanguinius: “I don’t know much about the ways of the warp, but that doesn’t sound good.”  
Emperor: “IT REALLY ISN’T… FOR MORTARION.”

The audible sounds coming from his respirator, clogged and dirty, was almost deafening in the silence that followed her words. He could only stand there, his own mind trying and failing to figure out what to do, what to say, what he could do and why he would want to.

“He will not stop until he claims you.” She breathed. “Your soul may be contracted to Nurgle… but underneath it all, you are still _His._ ” She warned even as she closed her eyes. “And I have never… _ever_ felt such… rage…”

She heard it then, what started as something soft and almost gone, then gaining in volume and intensity as Mortarion began to laugh. His laughter shook him, shook the cage she sat upon, shook the entire chamber. He laughed, though no joy came from the deep, dark sound. The laughter sounded as if something had been crushed and continued to fall apart until there were only shards biting deep into the soul. But it also carried the sound of pure frustration and anger, indignation at the idea of what was coming. It sent a shiver down her back at hearing such a twisted, horrible sound.

“ **He comes for me. He wants to kill me as well.** ” He continued to laugh, head colliding with the cage, sending it shaking again. “ **He’s going to kill me. That’s what he’s going to do.** ”

“Mortarion…” She whispered. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry, If I knew awakening your old memories would do this I…” She trailed off into the unsteady silence.

“ **You would, what?** ” He spat the words at her, eyes filled with intense loathing either at himself or her or just everything in general. “ **You would have let me go on my merry way? You would have stayed there and not done anything as you have done for millennia!? Are you not happy with what you have done!?** ”

“Millennia…” She whispered. “Has it been that long…” She trailed off, her gaze falling onto the floor where her bare feet and the bottom of her white and dirty shift were covered in filth. Slowly, her head swaying side to side. “No… no one deserves to suffer. Not even you.”

Mortarion: “What in the name of Barbarus, is the witch yapping on about!?”  
Jaghatai: “I believe the emotion is called, pity and compassion.”   
Mortarion: “Fuck that!”  
Jaghatai: “Even you must understand that people, even **xenos-** ” *pauses to cough* “-even they are capable of… compassion.”  
Mortarion: “I refuse to believe that there is a single creature in the galaxy and reality itself that will feel unrestrained compassion for all, even their own captor and not want something in return! It. Does. Not. Work. Like. That.”

“ **What?** ” He blinked, the anger receding back for a moment before he forced it back forward, “ **Do not dare. Don’t you dare try and sympathize with me! I do not want your worthless pity!** ”

“It is not pity if it is the truth.” Her voice was impossibly gentle. “No being which lives deserves to suffer. Not even you.” She shook her head. “I merely wanted to give humanity another chance, one which had been lost to my children so long ago…”

“ **I do not want your help! All you have done is open my eyes to suffering, torment, and now I am aware of it all! You made me into this, you have the gall to sit there and declare me a slave- a slave! You sit here, speaking of truth-** ” He let out a small laugh at this, “ **Why!? Why are you the only person to make me face the truth!?** ” He paused, hands letting go of the cage as he processed what he said. Hands coming down, fists clenching and unclenching as he looked down at them. They were so dirty… Why…? “ **Why…** **Why are they… Why are they so dirty…?** ”

“Everyone deserves a second chance.” Her voice was as quiet as the whisper of the wind, even as she reached out and took his hand in hers. “Everyone can be redeemed, if only one remembers to look past the surface.” She wiped away the muck and diseased skin, leaving behind a trail of utter purity. 

He watched as his hands became clean, untainted. It reminded him of something, something that happened long ago. The first time his hands had become pure… He watched as the grime, the rot, everything was gone in that moment. “ **I can’t.** ” He spoke, but his voice was not the same. Where was the anger he was glad to revel in just moments ago? Distantly, his mind conjured up a strange yet familiar voice that asked him something. Asking him when was the last time he had… Had… “ **I can’t.** ”

Mortarion: “What the shit is she doing?!”  
Magnus: “Making you believe.”

“Go.” She whispered. “Use the memories you have and separate reality from fiction. Your father will come for you. But perhaps you can escape His wrath if you have pure intent.” She smiled at him. “I am doomed to stay until I am freed by Nurgle’s personal touch. But you… you have a gift. Don’t let it go to waste like I did myself.” It sounded almost as if she was pleading with him...

“ **Why? Why do you even care what happens to me? What have I done to warrant any of this?** ” He watched as her hands had let go of his, watching as the grime and the rot covered over the pure and once again corrupted the flesh. “ **Why?** ”

“Because no one deserves to suffer, and everyone deserves a second chance.” She smiled one last time, hoping that he wouldn’t spot the tear trailing down her cheek as he slowly turned, one of his hands going up to nurse his head as he hobbled away, a faint-golden glow, visible only to her, coming from somewhere inside of him...

Emperor: “HOLD ON. THAT WASN’T…”  
Magnus: “UHM, is it too big of a possibility that-”  
Emperor: “SHUSH, YOU SAW NOTHING.”  
Mortarion: “What in the fuck is even going on anymore!?”  
Perturabo: “I have no idea…”  
Rogal: “You should rest brother.”  
Horus: “Does anyone genuinely know what the shit is going on?”  
Guilliman: “Call it long winded and wild, but I think that Mortarion might just end up being redeemed at the end of all this suffering.”  
Corvus: “I’m not even willing to take a bet on that one.”

**_...  
???.M?? - The Warp  
..._ **

It had been… a few years?

Leman: “Better than a Sanguinius I suppose.”  
Sanguinius: *Sighs* “Leman, I honestly… just…”  
Magnus: “Just leave it brother.”  
Leman: “Wot?”  
Magnus: “As funny as it is to not be on the receiving end of your naming quips, just leave it. Don’t want the joke to get stale, you know?”  
Leman: “Ah, tha’ makes sense.”  
Sanguinius: “Thank you.”  
Magnus: “I won’t stop him if you decide to start acting like a binge starved woman again.”  
Sanguinius: “P-Pardon!?”  
Leman: *Chuckles slightly* “Good one!”

He did not know, truth be told. In all honesty, these past few… _years? Decade or two?_ Had been spent mostly brooding if he was to be honest to himself. Not that time mattered much on Daemon worlds. Even less so at the core of the Plague Planet where the portal which led directly into Nurgle’s Garden laid, making time… _weird._

The only thing about time that he was sure about however had been that it had taken him a _very_ ** _very_** long time to make up his mind on what to do about… _everything_.

It also made him sure that Isha was, at the very least, bullshitting him. Absolutely lying by the skin of her pearly white teeth. How did he know this? Well for one, he was still alive. Father had as of yet to make his appearance. That wasn’t nearly as comforting as one might think considering the fact that for the past few… _years?!_ He had spent nearly every second of his miserable, _enslaved_ life looking back over his shoulder in a desperate attempt to catch said Emperor coming to violently murder him.

Lorgar: “Oh look, progress! You at least admit that you are enslaved to-”  
Mortarion: “Do you want your head to adorn my wall zealot!?”  
Lorgar: “If you think you could handle-”  
Angron: “Fuck this.” *Stands up* “I can’t handle any more of this verbal crap and even you brother. *Looks at Lorgar* “Now you're just being a smug asshole. I got better shit to do.” *Starts walking away*  
Lorgar: “Angron? Brother I-”  
Emperor: “WAIT, SON-” *Is stopped by Horus putting a hand on his shoulder and shaking his head*   
Horus: “Let him go.”  
Lorgar: *Looking on helpless as Angron leaves the room* “Fa-father, may I-”  
Emperor: “GO. JUST GO, NOW.”  
Lorgar: *Gets up and runs after Angron*  
Corvus: _“You know we’re fucked when Angron is the voice of reason.”_

The fact that Nurgle kept sending nurglings and all other kinds of messengers after him to answer his summons did not help the process. Though to be honest in that part, he hadn’t really noticed.

There had been the headaches from when he had ignored Nurgle’s calls, though he had apparently driven himself so deep into thought that he had made himself literally impossible to be reached by his Patron God. 

Yes, he had done the impossible and _ignored_ his Patron God due to his… it wasn’t brooding, it was tactical thinking. He had to call it that since apparently thinking too deeply on _certain subjects_ drove his brain to shit itself and die, in other words, an aneurysm. Causing him to die and be born again in Nurgle’s Garden. And going there would mean seeing _her_ again, and he did _not_ want to do that. So accepting some things as simply fact’s appeared to be for the best.

Worst of all, he had no one to talk about this. Who? Who would he choose? He tried his foster father and all he got out of that was perpetual moans of pain from the torture device he himself had placed him in. He had tried with some nurglings who had outright laughed in his face and so he had not so subtly turned them into a rotten paste. He had even tried some of the fucking plants, only for them to literally grow legs and walk the fuck away.

Leman: *Starts silently chuckling*  
Mortarion: “I- I think future me has gone fucking insane.”  
Vulkan: “Why are we still watching this? Our brother is just being tortured.”  
Dorn: “Suffering builds strength. As the ancient proverb goes, ‘what doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger.”  
Magnus: “Unless of course it cripples your for life.”  
Dorn: “That is not the point of the proverb.”  
Perturabo: “I don’t even feel like smacking you.”  
Dorn: “Are you sure that you are alright brother? Your present state is… most worrying.”  
Perturabo: “I’ll be fine, I just need to finish contemplating my entire existence right now.”

Trying with his sons was out of the damn question. Sure, talk about how you are having thoughts about your enslavement to your Patron God to your sons who also follow him even more religiously than you. Sounds like a great idea! Positively Leman levels of thinking on that one.

Leman: “Oi!”  
Sanguinius: “He has a point.”

And now he was thinking about his brothers! He hadn’t thought of them in any positive light in _millennia_! Millennia! Now here he is using one of them for metaphorical thinking!

The fuck was wrong with him!? It was all that fucking witches fault. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to slice her head clean off or thank her sincerely for all the shit-ridden revelations she had caused him to suddenly have.

Sanguinius: “That… doesn’t sound like a normal train of thought.”  
Mortarion: “I am now sure that future me IS fucking crazy.”

But well, with all of the waiting around for the Emperor, and all of the ignoring of Nurgle. Time had been aplenty in his… _tactical thinking_ . Time spent in realization and some serious, _serious_ thinking over his life. 

Honestly, when had anyone ever been truthful to him? When had anyone taken the time to wash away the smoke, confront him directly and tell him the truth with nothing else to hide behind? Nurgle would promise him plenty, promises filled with empty hands and empty gestures, but never the truth unless it was one he wanted him to hear. And his Father… His Father just gave him his own truth, refused to look past it, and would expect him to follow into his version of the truth whether he liked it or not.

Primarchs: *Slowly turn to the Emperor*  
Emperor: “WHAT?”  
Horus: “Well… he isn’t wrong.”  
Emperor: “DO I HAVE TO BEGIN THE LECTURE ABOUT-”  
Primarchs: **“NO!”**

But she didn’t. She was honest with him, did not hide _anything_ , didn’t try to pull a fast one on him. It was simply just her. Out of everyone in his life who lied to him, betrayed him and used him for their own gains, why was a xeno witch the one to give him the truth? What kind of irony did he have to suffer through now?

All of that. All of that utter _crap_ . Made him go down another path of thinking. What was the point of continuing this existence? Why _should_ he go on? Why not simply stop following orders forever and just lay down and die?

Well, that was never his sort of style. For all the shit he gave his creator, persistence was one of the things the Emperor was apparently good at building into his creations, and it was no different with him. So no, laying down and dying wasn’t acceptable. If he was to die, it would be with purpose, he couldn’t change that. And that led him on to his next train of thought. It made him realize he could strike back. Still have vengeance… somehow. How? He was still working that out...

Planning to betray your Patron God wasn’t an everyday thing after all. But oh, he was going to do it. And he was going to make sure the bastard was going to feel it for long after he was gone.

Magnus: “I uh. I’m sorry but uh- WHAT!?”  
Emperor: “TRUTH BE TOLD, I WASN’T SURE THAT WAS POSSIBLE.”

He wasn’t stupid. Mortarion had crunched the numbers over and over again. In the end of all of this, there was no way he would make it out alive. Not that ‘alive’ was what he could say he was really doing right now. This existence was not much better than slavery. His very soul was after all leashed to Nurgle.

Again. He had her to thank for that and no way of paying her back. Maybe killing her would be a mercy? Though how did one even go about killing an Aeldari Goddess? He couldn’t go out without repaying a debt that big.

Guilliman: “You have a strange way of repaying debts brother.”  
Konrad: “I’ve seen worse. Ending her eternal captivity with that bloated, rotting sack on a pair of legs with death seems like a mercy.”  
Guilliman: “S-so is freeing her! Why is it that you two always go straight to murder when there are other options available!?”  
Konrad: “Freeing her seems pretty impossible, besides, not everyone gets to be completely rational like you!”  
Emperor: “FROM WHAT I KNOW, KONRAD IS SURPRISINGLY ENOUGH CORRECT HERE. THAT CAGE MAY ONLY BE OPENED BY- OH.”  
Guilliman: “Yes?”  
Emperor: “WELL… MAYBE. THESE VIDS DO AFTER ALL TEND TO END WITH CHILDREN AFTER ALL.”  
Mortarion: *Strangling noises as if he is dying* “Kill. Me.”

So so many questions, with almost no answers to match. 

Well, nothing much mattered if he would go with the current plan A which was so strangely straightforward that it would probably make any strategist facepalm. But… _again_ , it’s not as if he was planning on coming out of this alive.

It was oddly easy to accept one’s death after he spent his entire life absolutely surrounded by it. It was even easier when said death was fueled by an unending thirst for vengeance. 

Yes, just to make it clear to himself, he was going to get revenge on Nurgle. And what better way to get said revenge other than freeing his most prized possession? 

Well, free or kill, he was quite unsure of that part. 

Mortarion: “SOMEBODY FUCKING STOP ME!”  
Emperor: “I WILL, EVENTUALLY.”  
Mortarion: “I am sorry, but allow me use your own words against you, dearest father. ‘These vids tend to end with the presence of new children.’ Therefore no, it is highly likely that you will NOT stop me in time, fuck, fuck, fuck, I fucking HATE this fucking future.”  
Jaghatai: “Did you attempt to go for a record of the amount of fucks you can fit into a sentence? I highly doubt you can break Angron’s record.”  
Mortarion: “Fuck you.”  
Jaghatai: “Getting closer.”

Why go after Isha in the first place? Well, killing Nurgle was most likely impossible. But freeing or killing Isha was not. He, after all, possessed the touch of Nurgle which alone most likely made him able to get close enough to kill or free her.

Guilliman: “Pick. One.”  
Mortarion: “No.”

And knowing Nurgle, doing that would most likely see him killed too. The cage was cursed in _hundreds_ of ways. Disease upon disease set to be released upon the one who attempted to open it, hence why it required Nurgle’s personal touch to open. And Mortarion knew that even one as widely renowned for his fortitude as him, even with the blessings of Nurgle, would not survive that... 

Was he going to kill himself over simple revenge? Just to get back at Nurgle and give him the ultimate finger? Was he truly so depraved and petty that he would willingly destroy what is left of his existence just to annoy a Chaos God?

Yes. Yes, he was.

Konrad: “Perturabo is proud.”  
Perturabo: “What? Yeah, sure fuck it, whatever.”

And for the past few years, that was all he thought about. Getting revenge. It was said many _many_ times throughout human history that revenge drove people to ruin. Perhaps. For him, it gave him focus, it gave him purpose, one final bang before going out.

For the last time, he gathered his thoughts, consolidating them into one final plan.

Plan A it was.

Horus: “Don’t even want to bet on how horrible this is going to go.”  
“Absolute- “  
“- catastrophe.”

**…  
 _M??.??? - The Warp  
_** **_..._ **

She was lying back in her cage, slumped against the filthy bars and desperately trying to catch a few more precious moments of sleep. She did not know why, but the skeins of fate spoke to her, spoke of her needing to preserve her energy.

She did not know why such preparation would be needed. Was Nurgle making something particularly vile? Was some great change destined to happen which would affect her? 

Well, while she could not be sure about the latter, she was sure about the former. In the center of the room, Nurgle’s cauldron bubbled with an essence as thick and black as darkness itself. The vapors emanated turning to Nurglings as they flew from the cauldron and seeped into the rotting stone ceiling. 

Whatever it was that was being made, it made her shiver with the anticipation of the pain and suffering it would cause the materium. The potion-

**“๓໐rtคri໐ຖ! ฯ໐น hคงē ¢໐๓ē ๖ค¢k t໐ ๓ē!”**

Konrad: “And here, we go.”  
Horus: “Well, this is going to be interesting at the very least.”  
Mortarion: “Come on future me… fuck it up.”  
Ferrus: “You are actively wanting yourself to die.”  
Mortarion: “If it means avoiding the shit fate of fucking a xeno, then yes. Die, die, die, die, die…”  
Guilliman: “I am starting to think that it is the present you who is going mad.”

Nurgle’s voice was far more cheerful than normal. Turning, sure enough, she found the aforementioned Daemon Prince there and walking towards his patron. **“Father.”** He walked directly to the Plaguefather and appeared to embrace him of his own will, causing Nurgle to emit a happy chuckle, sending the maggots that lived in his mouth, flying, covering the wall opposite of them.

 **“Şน¢h hคppiຖēŞŞ ฯ໐น ๖riຖງ ๓ē!”** Nurgle continued to spew maggots even as Isha watched as one of Mortarion’s hands reached past Nurgle’s massive form and went straight towards the cauldron- what? What was- She saw as he looked at her then. His eyes, despite being obscured by countless cataracts, staring at her directly, the rest of his face obscured by his cowl and respirator. **“i ຟคŞ Ş໐ ຟ໐rriē໓ ค๖໐นt ฯ໐น, ฯ໐น hคงē ຖ໐t คຖŞຟērē໓ ๓ฯ Şน๓๓໐ຖŞ. i ຟคŞ Ştคrtiຖງ t໐ ຟ໐ຖ໓ēr if ฯ໐น ຟērē ງēttiຖງ l໐ຖēlฯ ๖ēiຖງ คll ๖ฯ ฯ໐นrŞēlf.”**

Mortarion: *Sounds of dying*  
“Not the brightest-”  
“- God of Chaos.”

Mortarion’s hand unclenched, even as his head swayed up and down, revealing an ancient metallic cylinder, rust, coating it on the outside.

 **“I am happy too father, forgive me for my absence, I needed time to think.”** The canister dropped into the cauldron, it’s contents greedily devouring it in its entirety.

Emperor: “OH. OH THAT LOOKS FUN.”

 **“thiຖk? thiຖk ໐f ຟhคt, ๓ฯ Ş໐ຖ?”** Nurgle let go of Mortarion, letting the Daemon Prince push himself off in order to better see him, eye to eye. 

**“A great many things father. Chief amongst them…** **_slavery._ ** **”**

Isha felt her eyes widen. The fool! He couldn’t be thinking of-

**“Şlคงērฯ? ຟhคt Şlคงērฯ ๓ฯ Ş໐ຖ? ຟhคt ໓໐ ฯ໐น Şpēคk ໐f?”**

No! She begged in her mind for Mortarion to stay quiet, he needed not do this! It was tantamount to suicide! She felt as that hope died upon Mortarion’s next words even as the cauldron behind Nurgle bubbled a brilliant green, the Nurglings above it scattering in every direction, seemingly attempting to get away any way they could.

 **“I speak of you”** Mortarion spat, his face now becoming distorted with anger. **“I speak of my slavery to** **_you_ ** **.”**

Nurgle’s demeanor changed, where once he was smiling and open, now he was blank as he regarded Mortarion now. **“ฯ໐น Şpēคk ໐f Ş໐๓ēthiຖງ งērฯ iຖtērēŞtiຖງ, ๓໐rtคri໐ຖ.”** The Chaos God paused, confusion etching his face as he tried to figure out where this was coming from. **“i ໓໐ ຖ໐t kēēp ฯ໐น iຖ Şlคงērฯ, ຟē คrē ค fค๓ilฯ.”**

 **“My family died on Terra** **_._ ** **”** And with that, Mortarion’s hand extended faster then any eye could see. In a move so quick, yet simple that no one could see it coming; he pushed Nurgle, sending the Chaos God’s massive, bloated corpse, of a body tumbling backwards, making it teeter precariously on the edge of his own cauldron, before finally falling into the bubbling liquid, the Cauldron greedily swallowing the offering without second thought.

Emperor: “DAMN GOOD ONE. CONGRATS, MORTY, YOU ARE SINGLE HANDEDLY FUCKING UP A CHAOS GOD. GOOD WORK.”  
Mortarion: *Taken aback* “Uh- thank you?”

The massive cauldron began to bubble furiously, shaking more and more as it realized what was just thrown into its maw. The fumes and gases that secreted from the cauldron began to disrupt the entire work area, all hanging ingredients flying away and disintegrating, as shelves began to topple, the entire workroom began to shift and change, as if the room itself was being melted.

And even as reality itself began to seep away, even as Nurgle’s hold upon his own realm of existence was weakened, Mortarion unsheathed Silence. The massive manreaper glimmering in the light being emitted by the cauldron as Mortarion raised it high above his head, swinging it towards Isha.

 _Ah, so here was the retribution of the seeds she had sown._ She should have known it would come to this. She closed her eyes and awaited the blow. At the very least, it would be over soon…

_Clank!_

Her eyes flew open to realize something truly astonishing, before her, the cage swung open, the ancient hinges rotting completely as the door swung, causing it to fall to the ground in an eerie sounding clanging noise.

Mortarion: “WHAT? YOU FOOL!”  
Konrad: *Blinks* “Didn’t see that one coming.”

And before her, Mortarion breathed, his eyes beginning to grow red, his skins starting to bubble up, his wings being eaten away, everything in the room, from the nurglings, maggots down to the ash from the burnt logs of the cauldron, coming to kill him.

But Isha could see, there, behind his respirator, Mortarion; despite all the pain, was _smiling_.

Letting out a small laugh, she couldn’t help it. He was there, the cage was open, she was free! She was free, she could leave, Nurgle was distracted she could leave and return to her children or perhaps make her way to the webway and join Cegorach or-

Then Mortarion fell, his entire body withering away, rotting and falling apart as he fell to the ground before her cage. The ground itself was focused on tearing him apart, the rage of Nurgle so potent and so focused on hurting Mortarion that it snapped her from her excitement.

Easily, she could run. Run as far and as fast as possible. Nurgle was focused on hurting Mortarion as much as possible, dragging him down to snuff his life away and even destroy his soul if he wanted.

...that wasn’t right.

Him dying on the floor and letting her escape from Nurgle wasn’t right! He deserved his own freedom as well, his bravery had to be rewarded! Someone like him doing something this selfless and dying… She refused!

Walking forward. Truly walking for the first time in an age, she strode towards him, feeling her savior's suffering and taking it unto herself as she extended her being, feeling it grow as bright as a star even as she plunged into his very soul, knowing that there was only one way to save him now.

Mortarion: “Wait. WAIT NO! LET ME JUST FUCKING DIE!”  
Magnus: “Are you _really_ being _that_ petty right now?”  
Konrad: “Leave him alone, he can be as petty as he wants.”  
Mortarion: “Exactly! Die, die, die, die, die…”

The soul of Mortarion was being assaulted on every side, the malignant power of Nurgle attacking, tearing, snuffing the very soul of Mortarion. All the while, Mortarion’s soul fought with itself to either lay back and allow his death to come or fight against the force that tried to destroy him as well. He wanted to die, but wanted to live, the contradiction fighting itself and Nurgle at once as it shook from the strain.

_**“Ah, finally, you come.”** _

Magnus: “WAIT! HOLD ON, IS THAT-”  
Emperor: “ME. BEEN A WHILE SINCE WE SAW THAT PART OF ME, TEXT TO SPEECH WAS THE LAST TIME WE SAW THIS PART, RIGHT?”  
Sanguinius: “I, uh, yes but… this one looks different.”

Isha looked forward in shock. There, at the very core of Mortarion’s soul, the last small part which remained un-corrupted, sat… a _child?_

He sat by the glowing, white ember which was Mortarion’s soul, caressing it as carefully as if it was the most precious thing in existence. 

_**“Truly, I did not think he would have the heart.”**_ The _child_ spoke again, his formless white, humanoid outline appearing to have no distinguishable features. **_“I am glad to see that I was wrong.”_** He spoke in such a gentle, such a pleasing voice that for a moment, Isha found herself disarmed even as the dark reaching tendrils of Nurgle were swatted away from the _child._

“ _Anai’thema_.” She greeted him, knowing that time was both short and eternal here.

 _ **“Hmm.”** _The being hummed affirmatively. **_“I am so happy that he chose this path. It has taken so_ so long. But I feel that it might be truly worth the misery.”** He looked at her, formless eyes staring at her as she approached, both beings knowing the next step. _**“I have been a terrible father.”**_ The _child_ spoke once more even as Isha stood in front of him.

Horus: “This isn’t you.”  
Emperor: “AND WHY IS THAT?”  
Horus: “You never apologize for anything.”

“And I, a terrible mother.” She smiled sadly, knowing that she did not do well herself in taking care of her many many children.

 _ **“Hmm.”**_ The _child_ hummed as he cuddled the soul for one last time. _**“I feel as if you will be a perfect match for this one.”**_ He chuckled even as with both hands, he stretched out the soul. _**“Do not bring him any more pain, he has suffered enough.”**_ He spoke in a sorrowful tone.

Mortarion: “No! No! No! No! No! No! No! No!”  
Emperor: “CALM DOWN, MORTARION. RELAX. YOU WILL GET TO HAVE THE GREATEST OF ALL ELDAR. IF I WASN’T- ACTUALLY…”  
Horus: “Wasn’t what?”  
Emperor: “NOTHING.”  
Fulgrim: *Watches the Emperor* “Are you…?”  
Emperor: “IMPERIAL DECREE, FULGRIM. TWENTY MINUTES.”  
Fulgrim: *Screaming through sealed lips*

“I do not intend to bring him pain, only to reward his bravery and kindness…” She trailed off, smiling to herself. “Even if I had brought him great pain.”

 _ **“No pain is without reprisal.”**_ The _child_ spoke. _**“No suffering of my children without meaning.”**_ He spoke gently, his tone getting deeper and deeper. _**“No attack, no torture, gone unpaid.”**_ He motioned one last time. _**“Quickly, you must,**_ **He** _**comes, and**_ **He** _ **will not be as gentle with mine enemies. I must go, but we shall see each other once more.”**_

“I know of one way to ensure his survival, but I know not how he would react to this. If he sees it as the passing of a slave’s leash or as freedom, I do not yet know.”

He nudged the soul one last time. _**“Then make him your equal.”**_ With that, he sent the soul forward, breaking the connection completely.

Magnus: “Wait… WHAT!?”  
Mortarion: “What’s going on?”  
Emperor: “WELL… FUCK.”  
Mortarion: “What is happening? Tell me.”  
Emperor: “YOU’LL SEE.”  
Mortarion: “ No. _Tell me._ ”  
Emperor: “ENJOY THE SHOW.”

Her equal… My… She hasn’t done something like that in… an eternity. But it would ensure he would be strong enough for the both of them to escape, empower him, and free him as well. All for the price of…

The price did not matter, did it?

Taking hold of the soul, how small, how precious it was in her hands. Such bravery coming from something as small and delicate as this. Perhaps humanity had so much more to offer.

She leaned down, grasping the soul with both hands even as she gave it an ethereal kiss, the echoing song of her ancient power calling it to her side, binding it to her being with the allowance of its original creator.

She gasped as the un-reality of the warp set in. She was kneeling by Mortarion’s corpse even as it twitched and spasmed, the massive breath she heard and saw him take as he was thrown to his feet, looking at her in utter shock as his body reconstructed itself before her eyes.

**“What- what did you do?”**

“I saved you.” She spoked without hesitation even as she looked past him, her eyes widening even as she grabbed for one of his massive hands. “Come! We must leave, quickly!”

 **“Leave-”** He spoke in confusion even as the loudest roar of their lives came from behind them, a scream so primordial, full of such raw power that it made both shiver as if it was the coldest of nights.

**_“๓໐rtคri໐ຖ! ฯ໐น ๖ētrคฯ ๓ē!”_ **

Lion: “Did they just forget about the Chaos God that is in the same room as them?”  
Emperor: “LOOK, SOMETIMES PEOPLE FORGET OTHERS EXIST WHEN IN THE MIDDLE OF STUFF, ALRIGHT?”  
Lion: “I always do say that no plan survives contact with the enemy, but that is just plain stupid.”

There, Nurgle stood, raised to his full might, the warp making him grow into a being of true, perpetual horror.

She took one look at the full might of Nurgle then quickly back to the rapidly regrowing Mortarion. “Run!” She ushered him, hands clasped and pulling him after her. She knew he must still be acclimatizing to the rush of power she had gifted him, the feeling of Nurgle’s grasp slipping from him. She wished she could guide him through it all, but now was not the time to rest and figure everything out!

She hoped his Plan B was thought out this far!

Mortarion: “What- Plan B!? I didn’t have a Plan B! Plan A was **die**.”  
Rogal: “You are acting like Guilliman by yelling at the vid.”  
Guilliman: “I do not yell at the vid all the time!”  
Rogal: “Yes, you do.”  
Mortarion: “How dare you insult me like that.”

They didn’t get far. Barely to the door even, though with this reality being so incredibly unstable it felt as if it had taken millennia. 

They ran through it, her still helping Mortarion by letting him hang on to her as they shuffled away, the Nurglings and countless living diseases brought to life now chasing after them, the entirety of the Garden itself reacting to their presence.

Then, she stumbled, Mortarion groaning as every bit of his insides still burned, puking up dark liquids that smelled of eternal rot and decay. They fell to the floor, Nurgle’s disgusting, spine chilling laughter filling their ears. No… no…

She turned to look at her former captor, seeing that he was approaching, his form now large and foreboding. His entire body was spewing daemons from every orifice of his diseased body and literally tearing themselves from the insides of Nurgle, sending these newly born monstrosities towards them. The Chaos God’s face told her everything she knew to come, he was going to keep her close, he was never going to let her go ever again, and she would feel him inside of her for all of eternity once he got his hands on her once more.

This was supposed to be the end. Over. No way out, no way- wait, that presence, the warning of _Him_ the _child’s_ -

The tear in reality opened like that of a firestorm. A gaping wound, glowing alight with primordial fire, turning anything that touched it immediately into ash. And then it grew… and grew… and grew and- it was massive! It was as big as-

Something stepped out of the portal. Something big, bigger than that of a standard human, his skin- neigh, armour! It was black, his entire being radiated pure rage and utter fury. Black and bones, swirling with fire of its very palpable wrath. Its very existence was anathema to this place, but there it stood.

She saw Nurgle look about in confusion, his eyes widening as more and more of the creatures stepped through the portal. Creatures that shared the same motif as the largest amongst them.

She saw as the look of confusion upon the Chaos God’s face turned to that of pure and utter fear as he recognized who and what stood before him in his very own domain.

 **_“คຖคthē๓ค!”_ **He screamed in fear and recognition.

Then the creatures leveled their weapons, and fired with a single chant, “Ave Imperator. His vengeance comes.” And unleashed their fire and vengeance upon the garden of Nurgle, leaving the goddess and her… She didn’t want to think about what it was right now, only it was still Mortarion on the ground puking up all of the taint of Nurgle.

Guilliman: “Ah… glad to see that father still wields the power of the Legion of the Damned.”

Rogal: “A most useful tool.”

Not wanting to be humiliated in his own domain, Nurgle had to choose between the fleeing Isha and the forces of the Anathema attacking his very home. It pained him greatly but he chose to focus on the Anathema, vowing he wouldn’t stop trying to regain Isha once this was taken care of.

The mentioned pair continued their escape. Not knowing or truly caring for a direction, instead being apparently guided by the Legion of the Damned as they appeared to kill the servants of Nurgle and send them on their merry way.

Isha hoped that there was a way out, there had to be! They had to be guiding- her thoughts were violently de-railed when she threw herself and Mortarion to the ground, a massive, rusted sword swinging above them, cutting a few of the legionaries around them in half and sending them screaming back to whence they came.

It was- a Great Unclean one, she did not know the great Daemons name, but it’s goal was evident as it raised its sword once more, Isha attempting to desperately pull Mortarion along even as it came down and-

_Clank!_

She looked up along with Mortarion to see that the blow had been- caught! One of the massive Legionnaire’s of the Damned had caught the blade with two, shining hands. Mortarion coughed besides her and gasped for breath before speaking.

“Fe-Ferrus…” he managed to choke out. “H-how, wh-why?” He coughed again even as the Legionnaire turned slowly, still holding the massive sword of his opponent with apparent ease. 

Magnus: “Oh shit, I forgot that happened in the future.”  
Ferrus: “I approve of this afterlife.”  
Fulgrim: *Thumbs up*  
Vulkan: “I am happy to know that you still get to serve humanity, even after death.”

His gaze fell upon- his brother! By the old ones! _His brother!_

He spoke in a cool, deep voice, betraying no emotion save one. Wrath.

**“I have returned to lay waste to father’s enemies.”**

With those words, he tugged the sword, causing the massive creature to fall forward towards him even as he grabbed one of the Great Unclean ones massive rotting arms, grasping tight. 

**“And this is but a nuisance.”** He _swung the daemon_ , throwing it as easily as if it was a mere stick as it was thrown into the distance, crashing into a tower in the garden, destroying it even as Ferrus turned back to Mortarion and Isha. **“Go.”**

They didn’t need more convincing.

Guilliman: “I believe that if lifting is a thing in the afterlife, the future you certainly is doing it brother.”  
Magnus: “One upping that.”  
Ferrus: *Shrugs* “Death might be boring, a man always needs things to do.”  
Leman: *Chuckles* “Death is boring, might as well stay buff.” *Snorts at his own joke*

Mortarion was horribly confused, wanting to stay and be with his brother for just a moment longer, but also wanting to escape this realm before Nurgle broke through and invalidated everything they had done. But one thing he was sure of, he felt elated to know one of his brothers was still alive in some way. Turning to Isha, he pushed his body to the limits to follow her, “That way! My ship should be in this direction-”

“Will you be able to pilot?” She asked, not caring particularly much as they hobbled towards that general direction as best as they could. Mortarion felt especially heavy as if something was dragging behind him.

“I- I don’t know-” He wasn’t thinking logically. “Maybe.”

Rogal: “A single individual, even if said individual is a Primarch, cannot pilot a Gloriana class Battleship.”  
Perturabo: “He’s right, you know.”

“Better than no plan.” She murmured as they pushed on, the Garden tearing itself apart all around them even now as the forces of the three other Chaos gods began their own invasions, sensing Nurgle’s weakness.

Mortarion: “Does she still not understand I don’t have a plan!?”  
Konrad: “Funny how we both end up with the same plan in the end.”  
Mortarion: “You don’t get to make that joke anymore, you didn’t die in this.”  
Konrad: “Eh, fair.”

The garden itself was ruptured by the fire, blood, and brass of Khorne, the beautifully disgusting flesh of Slaanesh and the mind-destroying visions of Tzeentch, warping the entire garden into the unholy combination of a waking nightmare and an aneurysm. Daemonic forces pouring out from the ruptures of the unreality, clashing with the garden’s dwellers. The bloodshed here, serving only to fuel the fight and continue to cause more ruptures for use by the nefarious servants of the Gods of Chaos.

They trudged through the hellish landscape. Fire, both physical and psychic everywhere, the sound’s and smells of battle filling the normally stale air.

Isha attempted to help him as much as she could, healing the gaping wounds and still rotting flesh. When they were about halfway there, the first piece of Mortarion’s ancient Power Armour fell away, a grieve, landing in the muddy bog that they were hobbling through. Isha just barely had time to see the sores, pustules and maggot infested wounds that the piece of armour falling away had revealed.

A?: “You are-”  
B? O!: “Quite literally-”  
A!: “Falling apart.”  
Mortarion: “LET ME DIE.”

And just when it almost couldn’t get any worse… Nurgle’s influence truly started to leave Mortarion. But even though the influence was gone, the “gifts” stayed. And now that Nurgle was no longer there to whisper sweet lies into his former Daemon Princes ears… they _hurt._

Mortarion started with a few grunts. Those grew to hisses of pain, and finally, full on cries. Isha was barely able to heal him enough for Mortarion to stay conscious, the diseases, the wounds, the infections… they were all almost overwhelming.

Almost.

Despite his pain, both knew that if they had a chance to escape, it was now, and _only now._ The Legion of the Damned was doing a fantastic job of raising hell, but there was only so much they could do, and slowly, but surely, they began to be pushed back just as the rotting, massive hull of the _Endurance_ came into view.

“There…” Mortarion grunted out between laboured breathing even as the armour protecting his right arm fell away, the ancient ceramite turning to ash as it fell.

“Delicious, delicious pain!” The sound of moaning women and men were approaching them, fuelled with the want to share in Mortarion’s pain as he writhed. Isha could see a group of Daemonettes zeroing in on them, ignoring the major battle and instead looking to get their kicks. “For the Prince of Pleasure!”

Mortarion: “YES! Come on! This is my chance! Cut off my head! Come on-”  
Magnus: “You are far too excited at the prospect of the future you dying.”  
Corvus: “It’s almost as if this family has an insane amount of mental issues.”  
Emperor: “WE’LL DEAL WITH IT LATER.”  
Vulkan: “You said that before, Father. Now, it is later.”  
Emperor: “VULKAN. TEN MINUTES.”  
Corvus: “Don’t you tell Vulkan to shut up!”  
Emperor: “YOU TOO.”

How long was she going to be dealing with the culmination of her children’s sins!? She swore, they had precious little time before their window to escape was gone, even less if the Greatest Sin were to land its gaze upon the unclaimed goddess. Putting more of Mortarion’s weight upon her, she summoned a garden of vines to hold back the Daemonettes. Allowing them to enjoy themselves, making it possible for her to drag her newly bound consort away from the madness and towards the ship.

He was not going to be happy about this one bit...

Mortarion: “You bet your xeno ass that I am not!”  
Fulgrim: *Takes a breath* “What is a consort when it comes to gods, exactly?”  
Magnus: “...well… I don’t exactly know…? Father?”  
Emperor: “WELL IT DEPENDS ON THE PANTHEON AND FURTHER ON IN THE GOD ITSELF BUT… WELL, FOR ISHA IT TENDS TO BE MORE OR LESS EQUALITY SINCE SHE IS THE GODDESS OF COMPASSION AND ALL AELDARI LIFE.”  
Guilliman: “Is it possible for you to say it in words that will make Konrad and the others understand?”  
Emperor: “COPIOUS AMOUNTS OF CHILD MAKI-”  
Mortarion: “ ** _NO_ **.”  
Emperor: “GET READY FOR A CRASH COURSE ON A CELESTIAL MARRIAGE.”

But she definitely wasn’t happy about dragging a horribly diseased and terribly in pain man on her back across a raging battlefield that contained the Four’s power and the Anathema in a free for all! It was almost impossible to ignore how many times she had to summon a shield or use her own powers to redirect or hold down an errant enemy that came too close to the fleeing pair. That and the Legion of the Damned making sure the two were given a clear path to escape.

By the time they had gotten there, almost half of Mortarion’s Power Armour was gone, leaving only the truly major pieces still clinging on, Mortarion himself now using Silence to support the weight of the dead Power Armour and lighten Isha’s load even as a hand was clenched around his face, pulling forward the cowl of his hood and holding onto a dying respirator.

“If only I had the time to heal you, perhaps we’d have a better chance of escaping…” Isha wondered aloud, doing her best to keep Mortarion on his feet and keeping him steady.

“No…” He breathed in, eyes defocusing as he saw a vision of Fulgrim with Ferrus, showing off their gifts to each other. “Simply get me…” Another breath and a flash of Magnus lecturing him about being a hypocrite. “Into the ship… I have… access…” With that, he wildly gestured towards one of the side doors of his rotting flagship. “Maintenance hatch…” He breathed yet again, Horus was confiding to him about something, something important. “Main… hangar…”

They hobbled there, what remained of the Legion of the Damned doing their best to keep them covered as they finally reached the hatch, Mortarion pressing the palm of his hand to the scanner by the door, causing the old locks to flick open and the two to throw themselves inside even as the door slammed shut behind them, the last of the Legion of the Damned staying there as well.

They had made it! But, it was completely dark and Mortarion was now sprawled out on the floor, face side up.

“Come on Mortarion.” She tugged at one of his massive arms, the wings that were once on his back, that she would be standing on, long since having wilted away but still held onto him. But no matter how much she tried, Mortarion would not stand, merely grunting in pain even as she knelt and attempted to yet again heal anything truly important.

_“Did you ever do it?”_

_“Do what?”_

_“Did you ever fix it? Did you find your meaning?”_

Mortarion: “Oh great, future me is hallucinating. Fantastic! Can this get any worse-”  
Magnus, Jaghatai and Rogal: “DO NOT JINX IT-”

And just as she began the process, mass amounts of lumen’s flicked on at once, the massive hangar now fully lit even as she had realized what they had stumbled into.

A trap.

The sound of cocking bolters quickly joined in the revelation along with the stomping of metal on metal as the walkways were taken up by hundreds of Marines and many more came from around various craft and supplies all around the hangar, all pointing their weapons towards them.

Mortarion: “...well, fuck.”  
Rogal: “I was ready to throw to you a construction pylon to counter this jinx, but I was too late.”

“My sons…” She heard Mortarion whisper even as a bloodied cough escaped his mouth.

_“No, I didn’t.”_

_“Did you try?”_

She looked around in desperation, most of the Marines still locked on to them, as unmoving and disciplined as the Death Guard was famed for. The Sons of Mortarion seemingly preparing to kill their own father.

Mortarion: “Do it! Press the triggers!” 

Seeing no exit, she saw no harm in one last plea…

“Wait! Please, don’t he is-”

“Quiet Xeno witch!” She heard one of the Marines spit. “What have you done to our father?”

“I- I did-”

“You corrupted him!” Another shouted. “Took him from the Grandfather’s great embrace! Now look upon him!” The Marine speaking motioned with his sword towards Mortarion who laid on the floor, sprawled out, his breathing laboured even as he was half naked and in pain, looking every bit pathetic as he felt.

Mortarion: “Shit… they’re not gonna shoot me, are they?”  
Konrad: “Nope. Just watch.”  
Mortarion: “I’m not going to die, am I?”  
Sanguinius: “Just watch.”

_“I did try. I tried my best.”_

_“Then why aren’t you happy with what you’ve done?”_

“I-I can heal him!” She attempted to reassure them. “But-but not while we remain in the Garden-”

“Lies!” Yet another shouted. “The Xeno lies even more!” 

“Kill her and be done with it!” Another shouted.

“Let us shoot her! The battle requires our attention.” Another threw in.

Her desperation only increased as she felt the last of the Legion of the Damned ebb away outside of the _Endurance_ , leaving them without allies in this terrible _horrible_ place.

Or… so she thought.

_“Because… in the end… I betrayed myself.”_

_“I wouldn’t be so sure.”_

Reality yet again began to crack, the very fabric of the warp being split in such a way that it felt as if it was crying tears of blood as above them all a red and gold crack appeared, radiating so much _raw_ , _pugnant_ and undistilled power and fury that Isha felt the irrational need to void the contents of her empty stomach.

It didn’t take long for the Marines to be transfixed by the sight.

But as soon as the tear opened, they wished that they _could_ look away.

As Space Marines, they had not felt fear. As the sons of Mortarion, they endured it all. As the servants of Nurgle, nothing was repugnant, nothing was out of reach.

But now, all of that felt completely and utterly irrelevant.

When they stared at the sight of humanity’s will made manifest, they felt the shiver of cold fear go up their spine. When the tear began to open, they felt their very knees quiver, and when it finally did open, they felt as if their whole world fell out from beneath them.

Sanguinius: “Wait… is that!?”  
Magnus: “I know I’m saying it a lot, but HOLY SHIT!”  
Emperor: “WELL… I LOOK WORSE THAN I REMEMBER.”

For beyond there, behind the gaping wound in reality, stood _their_ Emperor. His truest Corpse self, writhing on the Golden Throne.

A decaying corpse.

But a _living_ one.

His head was lulled to one side, the eye’s inside the Emperor’s skull long ago having since dried up and rotted into nothingness.

And then, it began to move.

Ragio: *Opens door* “Sorry for being late-”

With the sound akin to stretching, ancient flesh and bone breaking, the Emperor’s head moved, the white and wispy remains of his hair from behind him falling in front of His face like a veil even as His terrible gaze slowly turned towards them all.

Ragio: *Promptly turns around and slams the door shut behind him* 

All stood transfixed, even Isha and Mortarion looking wide eyed at the only physical remains of the Anathema even as behind the veil, a pair of orbs, made of pure gold began to glow.

And then, just as slowly as He had moved his head, He moved his right arm. A bone like thing, with dried and cracked, brown flesh clinging to it. He extended it, His fingers slowly extending as He pointed at the Marines.

**“Traitors.”**

The voice… it was like an echo of a God. Like a nightmare brought worth, as gentle as a harp and as rough as sand at the same time. 

**“Loyal… or Traitor… I am your Emperor!”**

The Marines which were the focus of the Emperor’s terrible sight began to convulse, their very soul’s straining to even hold on to their very existence underneath the Anathema’s gaze.

**“Kneel!”**

Without logic or reason, they obeyed without second thought, most simply falling there instead of assuming a proper stance even as every bit of their flesh felt as if fire was dancing across it.

**“You all betrayed me, betrayed your very existence.”**

The very grip on their souls was like a vice, age old memories resurfacing with the violent force of a Baneblade crashing through their forces. Without regard to safety or preservation, they were ripped forth and shoved into their faces, their oldest vow.

**“You fought against the hand that raised you from the filth and unto the peak of humanity.”**

Young boys who had dreams and aspirations to seek the stars, to become something greater than what they were given. Given the chance to go beyond what they imagined for themselves.

**“Now you seek to betray the very first and last of your master’s.”**

Before Grandfather Nurgle, before their father, there had been one who commanded them, who they gave their lives for. The very master who gave them the gifts they now squander.

**“I call upon you now. No matter how destructive, how heretical your past has been.”**

Ancient words, ancient vows, an ancient oath. They knelt in the very dirt of Terra all that time ago. They performed the very rite that all other legions would have killed themselves over a thousand times to have the chance to perform the rite they had done. To kneel before Him, to kneel on the very dirt of Terra, to speak the very words that now were being thrown into their faces.

The day they swore an oath to the Emperor themselves.

**“AN OATH, REMAINS AN OATH!”**

The very air _quaked_ with the echoes of the shout, causing many of the Marines to simply fall over and die from the horrendously massive, psychic backlash.

**“AND YOU SHALL FULFILL YOURS TO ME, OR YOU SHALL CEASE YOUR PETTY EXISTENCE AND DEFILEMENT OF MY OFFSPRING, UNTIL THE END OF TIME!”**

The world itself shook, the souls of the living Marines pounded within them, screaming at them to remember their oath. They pledged their souls, their very beings to the Emperor, long before their Father was reunited with them and even longer before they pledged themselves to the Grandfather.

Their souls weren’t theirs to give.

It wasn’t long before the first one began to scream.

The second joined his brother quickly thereafter.

The third came immediately after that.

Soon, it sounded as if a choir had come to the great hangar of the _Endurance_ as over two thousand Marines screamed in utter horror and the realization of their existence.

For many, this was the eternal end. For them, there would be _no_ rebirth, for the Emperor called them to his side to be thrown into the void, their treachery too much, their past too shallow, their sorrow, and regret far too little to repent.

Those that remained felt as if their very skin was being turned into ash. Their insides being turned inside-out, their boils, their wounds, their diseases, all burned away as who they once were came back to the surface in the ugliest rebirth imaginable. 

Countless lifetimes ago, they had given themselves to the Emperor, in body and in soul.

Now, He was **taking** them _back._ Their very souls leaving their bodies and flying in a deep, dark vortex all around the gaping wound in reality which lead to the Emperor himself.

All the while, Isha watched in complete horror at what was played before her. Staying by Mortarion’s side, doing what she could for him with the Marine’s distracted. Whispering words of comfort, working to help him overcome his own violent rebirth.

And then, the screaming stopped, the Marines all falling to the floor, their armour skittering off in all directions as most were left as naked as the day when they were born.

Magnus: “WHAT IN THE EVERLOVING EXISTENCE OF MAGICAL FUCKS JUST HAPPENED!?”  
Emperor: “IT’S WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU GO BACK ON AN OATH. THEY WERE NEVER MEANT TO JUST BE GIVEN AWAY.”  
Sanguinius: “Shhhhh! Stop talking so I can watch.”

And then, she felt _His_ gaze on her back.

She knew what to do, she couldn’t save him, despite him being linked to her. Only his creator had the power of such a massive blessing.

Looking into his eyes and seeing as beneath the cataracts, he looked back at her in desperation, she whispered the last sweet words she could.

“It will be over soon. I promise.”

As she moved away from him, she saw as he began to levitate, looking almost like being in the hold of a dollmaker who ever so carefully made his creations as he slowly but surely levitated towards the wound, looking towards the abomination of a god that was his creator.

It did not take long for the first tears to begin to flow as he began to weep openly.

“Please…” He asked, not for kindness, but for a swift end, it was the least he could hope for.

Mortarion: “Come on, come on, come on…”

He levitated closer and closer, so close that he could feel as the electricity that was emanated by the tear sparked at his flesh, his body stopping short of going through the actual tear.

He closed his eyes, for he could not bear to look at the golden orbs which were hidden by the veil of that once lush, black hair, now faded into the wispy silver before him.

He felt as the sharpness of his creator’s fingers dragged across one of his wounded cheeks, almost lovingly trailing across the flesh.

“Please.” He pleaded one last time, before being miraculously levitated away even as the Emperor’s arm fell back to His side.

**“I sentence you.”**

Mortarion took deep, gulping breaths. Knowing that this was the end.

**“To life.”**

Mortarion: “FUCK!”

His eyes flew open even as what looked and felt like a golden bolt of lightning struck him directly into his hearts, making him spasm violently as he went flying back down to the floor, the wound closing suddenly, leaving Mortarion on the ground, curled up from the immense amount of pain.

Isha was immediately at his side, diving deep into his mind to find… to find…

His soul… it was _pure_. So completely and utterly devoid of any other touch that-

In that moment she had realized what exactly the Anathema had done. What exactly had prevented her from truly healing him the first time at all.

He had _completely_ given her Mortarion’s soul.

Mortarion: “WHAT THE FUCK!? ARE YOU SHITTING ME RIGHT NOW!?”

The details as to why eluded her thinking, and for now at the least, they didn’t matter. What did was the fact that her connection to him was deeper, just deep enough to make sure he stayed alive. But that was the other thing, they couldn’t stay here, in Nurgle’s garden her connection to the aethereal void which granted her her power was weakened.

But… how could they pilot-

She looked up as she heard a deep groan, seeing some of the Marines from before as they slowly started to get up and off the floor. She thought them dead- her own touch across the warp had stopped her own thoughts, they were _pure_. Rid completely of the touch of Nurgle, their pale and completely healthy bodies a reflection of that in their nude state.

“What…” One of the Marines stumbled across the filth covered floor.

Soon, more of his brothers joined him, all looking around in shock at the state of their transformation.

Credit where credit was due however, they soon proved to be above humanity, even after such a violent rebirth. Their focus quickly fell on Isha, still kneeling by Mortarion who had now fallen unconscious, his own body plunging him into a healing sleep.

Still holding onto Mortarion, she looked to all of them, “We need to escape. I don’t care if you hate me, but I believe you care very much about what your Emperor has done for you, for Mortarion. Does anyone know how to get this ship moving?”

Mortarion: “Say no-”

She wasn’t wrong. The marines looked to each other, knowing that it was in their best interest to escape, xeno witch included. “We know how to get the ship up and running.”

Mortarion: “FUCK!”  
Horus: “How many times are you going to say fuck today?”  
Mortarion: “Fuck you, I will say fuck how ever many fucking times I fucking want. You don’t get to fucking tell me what I can and can’t fucking say you overblown, spoiled fucking shit head! Fuck you and fuck your-”  
Horus: “Calm down, Angron, or else you’ll break his record.”  
Sanguinius: “I’m still surprised he fit in one hundred and fifteen fucks into one speech…”

“Then do so. Our allies outside are long gone and we only have so much time before the rest of Chaos is pushed back. Now is our only chance to escape and not waste our opportunity.”

Some grumbled, one marine was quick to point out, “We don’t take orders from you, xeno. But we don’t have a choice. This does not mean we listen to you, understand?”

Another spoke up, “Gorm, enough. I believe the xeno understands where we stand with each other.”

Gorm’s unflinching gaze never left her, but she saw as he closed his eyes and exhaled. “Captain Tarkus.” He turned to look at his apparent Captain. “You can talk again.”

“I can. And I use this gift to make sure you shall not defile your own.”

Jaghatai: “I like him.”  
Mortarion: “Typhus didn’t, hence why he ended up with me. He is competent however.”  
Horus: “How competent?”  
Mortarion: “Enough that I don’t see him protecting me now enough for me to die anymore.”

Gorm balked at that. “I see the Deathshroud’s vow of silence doesn’t mean much to you.” 

Tarkus came closer, his face unmoving and as fixed as if it were adamantium. “That vow is forfeit. There is no Deathshroud, nor even the Death Guard for us.” He looked around the hangar where some of the other Astartes were rising from the piles of corpses even as a violent tremor from the outside shook the entire ship. “Nor will there be for anyone onboard this vessel if we do not act immediately.” 

“You look to be the highest in command who survived Captain.” Another Marine stepped by even as Tarkus looked to him. 

“Tyrus, I am gladdened to see you have survived Sergeant, a fellow Terran at least to stand anew with.” 

The Sergeant nodded even as another tremor shook the ship. “Your orders then, Captain?”

Tarkus looked around at his brothers, seeing that time was beginning to run short. “We make for open space, anyone above the rank of sergeant and or a former techmarine or, to the bridge, the rest of you, prepare to repel any borders.”

“With what Captain?” Another Marine added in. “All our weapons are useless rust.” As if to emphasize the point, he kicked open the bolt on his bolter, it flying clean off instead of unjamming. 

“Your fists if need be Legionary. And if a weapon must be in your hands, then make use of whatever can be picked up. Are we not the Emperor’s finest?” Tarkus glanced around, watching as his brothers stood up straighter at the challenge, all having a mixture of disbelief and some still wondering if this second chance was really real. “ **Move**.” 

“Yes sir!” The marines called out taking comfort in the familiar feeling of simply obeying orders and running to prepare the ship for take-off, some of the Marines who had gathered their wits all the while ran off, desperately attempting to find something to use as a weapon even as Tarkus approached the lying form of his Primarch and took a knee. 

Mortarion: “They… He… He is really gung ho about this whole second chance…”  
Guilliman: “I do like it though. It’s nice to see someone who wanted to do good with their second chance so eagerly.”  
Sanguinius: “This is… so poetic.”

“How bad is it?” He asked, looking over the wounds and lingering effects of Nurgle’s touch upon his gene-father’s flesh.

“He’s better than before. I’ve been doing everything I can to speed up his healing, but this is as far as I can go for now. Once we escape I can fully lead him through the process.” She refused to let go of Mortarion, something Tarkus was able to catch, but said nothing about for now.

The ship shook yet again. “If we escape.” He looked around, barking an order and waving by some Marines who had managed to gather a few scraps of at least semi-clean cloth. “We should move him, the bridge will most likely be the safest place.” He explained even as he tied the said scrap of cloth around his waist for at least some sense of modesty, even as he offered the rest to Isha for her to drab over Mortarion.

With the help of Tarkus, Isha was able to begin dragging Mortarion towards the bridge, dodging the running Marines who were taking up various positions across the ship. “Have some faith, legionary. Somehow we got this far, so might as well be a bit more positive.”

“Positivity is what took my voice for ten millennia, I am not so inclined to that feeling as you might think.”

“Understandable.”

Jaghatai: “If I did not have an eidetic memory I would start writing these down.”  
Sanguinius: “I like him. He has a lot of good character going for him.”  
Konrad: “Throne help us all, Sanguinius is starting to get sappy.”

They trudged through the rest of the ship, finally arriving at the deprecated bridge, leaving Mortarion propped up in a corner where they could see out of the viewports into the…

“It appears that the entirety of Nurgle’s domain is attempting to kill us.” Gorm, who had managed to wrap himself up in some scrap cloth, summed up their situation quite nicely even as he struggled to open a panel to get at the wiring behind it.

Ah yes, that was the other part, besides everything trying to kill them. The _Endurance_ was quite literally, falling apart. Nurgle’s rot leaving ironically made the ship unstable to a wild degree, it also made it barely function.

“Enginarium.” Tarkus called down into the half-working vox unit. “What is our status?”

It took a moment, but soon enough, a voice responded, one filled with vox corruption from the terrible unit’s emitters. “We are trying to get her started up but- fucking dammit, give it a manual pump Hert and reset the circuit- ah sorry Captain, like I said, trying to start it, but the damn thing is covered in sludge and maggots.”

Isha stepped closer to Tarkus, gently taking the vox from his hands. “Marine, what is it you need to make it work again?”

For a few seconds, nothing came from the vox other than a static crackle, then the Marine on the other end spoke. “I know not how you may help, and while the heresy of the warp escapes me… heat. A lot of it, in the core.”

Ah, yes. She knew of quite a few plants that could create heat and or burned quite well...

“Tell your men to stand back.” She spoke into the vox and then stood back, closing her eyes and beginning to focus.

She winced, there were _a lot_ of Daemons nearby, and though she expected that it didn’t quite help with the shock. Still, she ignored them for now as her mind wandered deeper and deeper, finally finding the core and the Marines attempting to make it work again. She entered it, finding the reactor completely empty. Heat the Marine had asked for, heat she would grant.

With the fingers akin to that of a bonesinger she began to weave the fabric of reality itself, making it twist into wondrous, blackened plants. And then she reached into them and from there, into the most primordial of all energies. Heat.

She focused it all then and there, making sure it grew in intensity until it could no longer be contained by her mind, letting it go she felt as the ship itself jolted even as she flew back into her own corporal vessel.

Quickly, she looked over at Tarkus, who was looking down into the vox with apparent anxiety, waiting desperately for any news. The sounds of fleshy, rotting bodies colliding with the ship filled the silence.

“Captain!” Came a cry from the helm. “We have power.”

True to form, soon enough the bridge was filled with the noises of various machinery whirring to life. Ancient cogs moving for the first time in many millennia even as the few tech-marines amongst the survivors ran about, attempting to make the damn ship stay together.

“Enginarium.” Tarkus called down into the vox.

A few coughs answered him. “Full and functioning, it's no reactor, but the heat will do for now.”

“Yourself?”

“Fine, fine.” The Enginarium officer answered. “Albeit covered in ash, we’re all fine, now get us the hell out of here.”

Ferrus: “That was a very wise move.”  
Magnus: “I can’t tell if you are genuinely complimenting them right now or-”  
Ferrus: “They have just destroyed what little remained of a Gloriana Class Battleship’s reactor, a masterwork of masterworks, each more unique then the one which came before.”  
Magnus: “Sarcasm it is.”  
Fulgrim: *Mhm*

Tarkus looked over to the helm. “Flank speed, get us out, make for realspace at the shortest possible route.” Outside, he could see the swarms of Nurgle colliding with the ship, trying to make their way in or blind their view ports. Vines sprouting and pushing away the grime, leaving behind disgusting streaks.

“Roger.” The helmsman nodded off even as he breathed deeply, reaching for the levers controlling the power of the engines. “Giving power.”

As he pushed the levers forward, the ship shuddered, uttering a wail of bending steel that spurred the outside forces to attack the ship with renewed vigor, a loud roar of pure fury shook the entire ship which ended with a streak of bright red cross warp space.

“Movement.” The helmsman muttered. “Increasing at a pace of… unsure, speedometers gone.” The useless junk fell off and stared at him mockingly.

For now, that was enough. With some time fought back, Isha ran to Mortarion's side, looking him over one last time. His breathing and heartbeats were steady. Good, he might yet live.

“Reaching maximum power.” The helmsman once more added even as the lever slid to the end. “That’s it, maximum-” A loud snap was heard.

“What was that helmsman?” Tarkus immediately demanded, causing the helmsman to turn around and show that the power lever broke off and was now in his hand.

“Look at it the bright way Captain.” The helmsman smiled. “Only way now is forward.”

Jaghatai: “Mortarion. I would like to meet these sons of yours one day.”  
Horus: “Their ability of being so extremely passive aggressive is _astounding._ ”  
Mortarion: “Why am I still alive?”  
Konrad: “Do you mean here or in the future?”  
Mortarion: “ **Both**.”

Tarkus frowned heavily at the joke but instead turned to look at Isha. “Can you tell how many are chasing us?” He asked even as she ran a tender hand down his Primarch’s face, the sight somewhat repulsing him, but all that mattered for now was that she was keeping him alive.

“I-” She spoke even as she closed her eyes, winced and then noticeably recoiled. “I… not many at all.”

Mortarion: “What?”  
Guilliman: “What?”  
Magnus: “What!?”  
Emperor: “HOLD THE FUCK UP? UNLESS… OH, YEAH, PROBABLY.”

Tarkus blinked. “What?” They were shaken out of their revelation by the ship being violently shaken yet again, Tarkus whirling around. “What, was that!?”

One of the Marines at a barely functioning screen turned around. “Sir… we appear to have lost an engine.”

Tarkus facepalmed. Great, just what he needed, this is exactly why he preferred the pessimistic approach to life.

“Don’t worry Captain.” Gorm spoke up from where he was hotwiring some more things together. “We are still flying _most_ of the ship.”

Tarkus felt like smacking him.

Emperor: “REFERENCES!”  
Jaghatai: “Truly. Masters.”  
Horus: “This really is just getting plain ridiculous.”  
Leman: *Takes sip of Ale* “Yer’ only just noticed?”  
Rogal: “I like them. They remind me of Friedrich.”

Outside the ship, the forces of Nurgle were in a complete standstill with the forces of Khorne, who was overlooking the fight via his many minions. The Chaos God of Decay held back his rage, knowing that even his own rage would only serve to make Khorne stronger, even here in his own domain. He settled for crushing the bloodletters with his own weight, watching as how the _Endurance_ was now in working condition and carrying his objects of hate away from him!

 **“dσσσ hσ hσ hσ hσ hσ… fєєlíng ααααnnngrч, nurglє?”** The great Architect of Fate whispered loudly into Nurgle’s ear drums, causing the great Grandfather to nearly boil over in extreme anger. **“lσσks líkє чσur σвjєct σf αffєctíσn ís lєαvíng αwαч wíth чσur αdσptєd sσn. tσugh fσr чσu, σld вuddч.”**

**“໐นt ໐f ๓ฯ ຟคฯ, tຊēēຖt¢h! ฯ໐น คຖ໓ kh໐rຖē คrē rนiຖiຖງ ēงērฯthiຖງ! thēฯ’rē ๓ฯ prēฯ คຖ໓ i ຟ໐ຖ’t lēt thē๓ ງēt คຟคฯ!”**

**“hmmm? hmmm. hmmmmph? í suppσsє. σr mαчвє nσt. í’m nσt surє. вut αctuαllч í αm. wє’rє σnlч hєrє fσr σnє rєαsσn. σr twσ. mαчвє fσurtєєn αctuαllч.”**

**“໐นt ໐f ๓ฯ ຟคฯ.”**

**“nαh. dσn’t wαnnα. sєє, чσu hαvє вєєn wαч tσσ hαppч αnd wαч tσσ íntσ ruíníng mч pєrfєctlч lαíd plαns. í dσn’t líkє thαt.”**

**“Şhนt นp tຊēēຖt¢h!”**

**“σσσσσh hσσ hσhσhσhσ! wαtch thαt tєmpєr, σld tímєr, σr єlsє khσrnє’s gσnnα cσmє σvєr thєrє αnd-”**

**“𝕐𝕐𝕐𝕐𝔼𝔼𝔼𝔼𝔼𝔼𝔼𝔼𝕊𝕊𝕊𝕊𝕊𝕊𝕊𝕊𝕊𝕊𝕊𝕊!!! 𝕃𝔼𝕋𝕊 𝔽𝕌ℂ𝕂𝕀ℕ𝔾 𝔾𝕆!!!”**

Magnus: “Does anyone else hear death metal?”  
Emperor: “IT COMES WITH THE BLOOD, SKULLS AND BRASS. YOU GET USED TO IT.”  
Corvus: “If Angron were here, he’d enjoy it. But he left because he couldn’t stand you anymore.”  
Emperor: “THANK YOU FOR THAT. THIRTY MINUTES.”

**“nєvєr mínd. hє’s píssєd. αnd íncrєdíвlч hαppч. lσσk αt whαt чσu díd nσw. σr í díd. ít’s αll αccσrdíng tσ plαn αftєr αll.”**

Nurgle turned his great attention to the multiple bloodthirsters now sent directly after him, spawning due to him losing his own temper. He smashed them out of the way, desperately fighting and trying to get for the _Endurance_. 

Only to be smacked in the face by a massive hunk of burning metal, it burning his flesh even as he threw it aside in desperation.

Leman: *Spits out his ale* “Ha! Hahahaha!”  
Horus: “Alright, I have to admit, that is pretty funny-haha!”  
Mortarion: *Still slouched down in throne* *Hehehehehehee…*

**“thαt lσσkєd líkє ít hurt. díd ít hurt, nurglє? σr cαn чσu єvєn fєєl pαín, í wσndєr? cαn αnч σf us?”**

His focus now broken completely, Nurgle lashed out at Tzeentch. Forgetting completely about the escaping ship. Nurgle quickly grabbed onto Tzeentch who let out a squeak, **“hєч wαít whαt αrє чσu-”**

**“คคคคคคคคคคคคคคคคคค fน¢k ฯ໐น tຊēēຖt¢h ฯ໐น Ş๑นi໓ ຖēr໓!”**

**“í tαkє σffєnsє tσ thαt, í αm nσt α squíd, í αm αn σctσ-”** And suddenly Tzeentch knew what it felt like to be on the receiving end of a pile drive straight into the diseased garden of Nurgle and Nurgle’s own posterior.

Leman: “Bloody fookin’ ‘ell! Call up the HV producer’ this is gold!”  
*Many begin to laugh at the images, echoing through the ship*

“Twenty thousand to Garden exit… wait no, the meter jumped to thirty-” Said meter which was being read off by the helmsman right then and there decided to violently pop out of its casing and fly by the helmsman’s head, missing him by barely an inch. “Never seen it do that…”

Gorm looked away from the plate which he was putting back over the housing. “What does that mean? Much longer or much quicker?”

This time Tarkus, who was standing nearby, did lop him over the head.

“Either way, it's less than a solar minute.” The helmsman reported, trying desperately to keep the disintegrating ship together.

“Nurgle’s attention…” Isha breathed from her side at Mortarion. “It has been diverted. The… the other Chaos Gods!” She smiled sadly. “The great game has taken their attention yet again.”

Tarkus turned her attention to her. “Does that mean...?”

Isha slowly nodded. “Yes… I believe we might just make it.”

“Less than half a minute now.” The helmsman yelled out. “Brace for warp exit. I have no idea where we are going to come out.”

“Should be the eye, no?” A Marine nudged in.

“No idea.” The helmsman shook his head. “With that fight behind us… we could come out whole somewhere completely intact or end up as a smear across half the galaxy.”

“It will have to do,” Tarkus commanded. “None of us shall return to slavery.”

All the Astartes within hearing distance gave an echo of “Aye.” Death was a preferable alternative to the living, breathing hell which had been their lives for the past ten millennia.

Leman: *Chuckles* “Yer sons have spirit, I’ll give yer’ that Mortarion.”  
Lion: “An admirable quality for former traitors.”

Soon, their focus fell upon one of the few remaining screens that hung above the main bridge viewport. They watched as it counted down, the moment that timer reached zero, the _Endurance_ would be plunged into the Matterium. 

Isha all the while made sure that Mortarion clung to life. The “gifts” of Nurgle had well and truly left him now, leaving only the gaping wounds and half-broken mind of the Primarch to her care.

Even though their bond was mere hours old, it was proving strong, the very nature of its formation holding it true. Whether Mortarion liked it or not now… their fates were tied for eternity.

The counter kept counting down even as the entirety of the ship shuddered heavily and Isha reached into the great void and summoned forth massive vines, letting them spread across the ship's hull like a spider's web, keeping it together, if only for a few more minutes...

She closed her eyes and focused even as the ship shook violently, the end of Nurgle’s Garden having been reached, they were now thrown into the uncaring tides of the warp at its rawest and most basic form.

It felt as if they were sailing through an earthquake.

She… she heard the cries of the countless damned souls. She felt the claws of the neverborn as they scratched at the hull and everyone averted their eyes from the viewports, lest they would go insane the second they would look upon such a sight.

The outer armoured plates of the _Endurance_ began to be torn off as easily as if they were leaves upon a tree. Entire compartments were exposed, sending the Marines near or inside of them scrambling for the safety of the inner corridors and hallways.

It was a stroll through the very meaning of hell.

But all of a sudden, they came to a stop. The extremely sudden deceleration threw everyone forward, including Mortarion, who Isha was just barely able to catch even as he landed upon her, his massive body crushing hers.

After a few seconds, all the Marines gathered their wits, the ones who had fallen over finally getting up and those that remained standing the entire time attempting to make the world stop spinning.

“We… we made it!” The helmsman breathed, looking out of the viewport into the cold, dark and harsh reality of open space. 

Mortarion: “How the fuck are they not dead!?”  
Magnus: “Fate must love you.”  
Mortarion: “I don’t want fate to love me, I want to fucking die.”  
Konrad: “Same.”  
Emperor: “REFERENCES.”  
Konrad: “I mean it, though.”

A cheer went around the marines, slowly traveling the course of the entire ship until Tarkus looked towards his Primarch, only to find him crushing Isha. Quickly waving over two of his brothers, he ran towards the Primarch, hoping against chance that his genefathers massive weight hadn’t crushed Isha.

Only to see Mortarion slowly begin to rise.

What? Had the Primarch awakened-

No. It wasn’t Mortarion who was standing by himself. Underneath the Primarch, Isha raised herself, taking Mortarion with her as easily as if he weighed next to absolutely nothing. She stood to her fullest height and then propped the Primarch against the closest console, keeping him there with just one hand even as she looked around, a gentle smile slowly appearing on her face.

“We made it.” She spoke, her voice sounding as if it was the very definition of beauty, reverberating around the bridge in such a way that it caused all of the Marines, who were celebrating their survival, to look at the goddess with much different eyes. The air around her was clean, fresh and inviting, the floor around her bloomed with sprouting flowers and vines, breaking from the confines of the rusted and decayed metal. Clothing no longer destroyed and ruined with stains and filth, she now wore a flowing sheer cloth that left little to the imagination. She shone brightly, brighter than before, and resembled a small star instead of a woman.

In the warp, in Nurgle’s garden, Isha’s being was dampened heavily. The curse of Nurgle dampened not just her core power, but her corporeal being as well. In the Garden, Isha was but a fraction of herself.

But this was the Matterium. And here, Isha was _free_.

To everyone in the room that looked at her, each would find her the very meaning of the word beauty and perfection. Her hair flowed behind her in waves akin to a calm sea with ethereal energies in ways that shouldn’t have been possible, her skin glowed a pale gold and brilliant white, her smile illuminated every single soul within reach.

Guilliman: “...yep.”  
Emperor: “WHAT?”  
Guilliman: “Now I understand.”  
Emperor: “UNDERSTAND WHAT?”  
Guilliman: “Why you tried to make the webway and why you were so obsessed with eldar prostitutes.”  
Emperor: “P-PERHAPS WE CAN CUT DOWN ON THAT ONE, I LEARNED MY LESSON SO PLEASE DON’T REPEAT THAT-”  
Guilliman: “I can finally understand why I like them now.”  
Magnus: “Took you long enough.”  
Mortarion: *Sounds of dying* “D I S G U S T I N G.”  
Vulkan: “Do not speak so loudly, please brother.”

“Thank you.” She spoke once more even as a single tear rolled down her cheek, transforming into pure energy as it left her skin and into brilliant starlight. “Thank you all. I know that you saving me was second thought to your own freedom… Yet still, I thank you.” She smiled again before turning back to Mortarion. His head was lulled to his side, the ancient and mostly broken respirator wheezing with barely any power still left, kept on his face by nary a single, rusted, strap.

Her other hand went out and a single finger touched her equal’s forehead, sending forward a command for him to awaken.

Immediately, the Primarch winced, his eyes, still clouded with cataracts, fluttering open before focusing on her.

“The… the men… my… sons…” He breathed out with some difficulty. 

“Alive.” She reassured him. “And healed fully, thanks to your father.”

“Father…” He stammered confusedly. “When…?”

“All will be explained.” She shushed him, her eyes sparkling with such tender care and honesty that it made Mortarion’s hearts flutter and threaten to stop. “You saved me.” She whispered. “Allow me to return the favor.” She reached up, unstrapping the respirator from his face even as Mortarion flailed weakly in a desperate attempt to stop her.

Mortarion: “The fuck?”

He looked around, desperately searching to see if his sons would act, only to find them looking at her in doubt but also with a surprising amount of trust.

As she fiddled with the strap, Mortarion’s thoughts went deep. But the conclusion of them was simple. If they trusted her… so would he. _I don’t have much to lose. So be it._

He let her take it off with one final swallow of chemically scented air. Exposing the lower part of his deformed face.

The respirator went clunking to the ground, smashing in half even as one of her hands gently caressed his cheek, sending shivers of _incredible_ feeling down his spine. She whispered, one last time.

“Thank you.”

Then, she leaned forward, standing on the tips of her toes and gently pulling him down to her level, and firmly pressing her lips against his.

Mortarion: “WHAT THE-”

The last time he had felt any contact with the lower half of his face was long, long ago. Back on Barbarus when the respirator was first put there. Just a quick brush of fingers as the one who put it on him fiddled with their work. A simple mistaken brush had been all he could remember from over ten thousand years. Yet now, he felt the touch of her lips against his own that stopped all thought for a second in his mind. A second that felt akin to an eternity. The foreign feeling almost scaring him, so unfamiliar.

But what happened during their contact was what caused him to fully grasp how much power she had within. The simple contact between them blooming throughout his body from his lips and where her hands grasped his jaw, moving throughout his body like cleansing water onto an old, muddied and abused tool.

His nose had been cleared, his eyes were free from cataracts, his vision was clear and he truly saw how… how… He couldn’t think it.

From his head that felt lighter and clearer than ever before, his body reacted to the kiss as well. The wounds he felt festering had closed up with not a single scar in sight, his skin went from a sickly pale to a much more… healthier hue. Truth be told, he had never felt this good before, he could feel as if his entire body was at its absolute best, the perfectly carved and created form he had been promised had been returned to him.

But what surprised him was when he felt his back shift, bone and flesh moulding there. A new weight was there on his back, confusing him on what was happening. His old wings from when he was under the influence of Nurgle were nowhere close to what he felt here.

When his back ceased its movement and the tips of his fingers and toes stopped tingling from the contact, she pulled back from him. He would deny to his dying day that his own lips chased after her own for a split second.

Then he took his first breath.

It made him nearly collapse from how good it felt. To breathe in good, clean, fresh air for the first time in his life, his entire existence. It was intoxicating.

Then he felt his back flutter and soon his head turned to the side and he finally saw what was on his back.

“Why the hell do I have wings? Wait my voice-” He was surprised to hear his uncorrupted voice for the first time, but he would ponder over his new baritone later.

Horus: “Fuck. You sound… weird.”  
Mortarion: “The fuck is that supposed to-”  
Emperor: “EXACTLY THE WAY I MADE YOU, I EXPECTED NOTHING LESS OF SUCH PERFECT WORK.”  
Mortarion: “Fuck off! I sound like you! This is a fate worse than death…”

“A gift. I do not believe you’d like to have brightly colored insect wings like I do when I wish to fly.”

He glared at her, he did not want to have a pair of brightly colored butterfly wings on his back! He sighed, the white bird wings would have to do…

Sanguinius: “Good luck with those brother. They are a pain to clean.”  
Mortarion: *Choking sounds*

“As lovely as this is, my Primarch…” Tarkus nearby spoke up, not looking at Isha. If he did, he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop staring. “There is a planet right below us and currently our ship is only half functional and is falling apart quite quickly.”

Just as those words left his lips, most of the lights turned red, indicating that they were now running on the backup batteries.

“Mostly non-functional I would rather say Captain Tarkus.” The helmsman sighed. 

“What are our options for getting the ship running again?” Mortarion asked even as he took a few unsure steps, still testing out the balance of his newly rebuilt body.

“Putting it bluntly, my Primarch.” A Marine from the front of the bridge answered. “Unless the Martian Ring of Iron is hidden behind that planet…” The screen which counted down the time it would take them to exit the warp earlier now fell off, shattering on the steel deck. “Absolutely non-existent.” 

“What about the level of technology on the planet?” He ignored how Isha was helping him stand now.

“From what we can tell? No anti air, no visible structures that reach civilized status, no augur relays and certainly no satellites. In other words, practically nonexistent my Primarch.”

“Well sir.” A Marine noted in from a half-broken station. “There appears to be population centers, but none too massive, that combined with the low level of technology…”

“A Feudal world.” Tarkus walked by, bowing his head to Mortarion. “Glad to serve the true you once more my Primarch.”

“Glad to have you speaking again, Tarkus.” He thought this over, and seeing no alternatives, made his decision. “Pack up as many useful items as we can, find any salvageable material here on the _Endurance_ and get ready for planetfall.”

“Yeah, uh one question, my Primarch?” Gorm stood up with his hand raised. “How?”

Tarkus sighed. “The Legionnaire is correct my Primarch. From what I have gathered, we have no craft capable of bearing us to the surface, including drop pods, which even if we would have, we could not use without our power armour.”

Isha grinned widely, “I believe I can transport all of you down to the planet.”

Tarkus looked at her, and then looked at where her gaze was pointed, following it to a hexagonal shaped- “No. No, there is no possible way we can safely teleport down onto the planet via teleportarium. We will sooner get trapped in the planet's crust than survive with so little power and navigational capabilities.”

Leman: *Shudders* “Fuck teleportariums.”  
Guilliman: “Brother, they are a very useful set of-”  
Leman: “Not saying they ain’t fuckin’ useful, just sayin’ they make me feel fuckin’ horrible.”  
Konrad: “Well, canids tend to fear thunder so-”  
Leman: “Finish that sentence and I will shove a lightning coil somewhere that shows I ain’t afraid of any godly anger.”

“Have you forgotten? I am a Goddess. I can easily teleport all of you down to the planet below with barely a thought. Have some faith in my abilities, please?”

“Via controlling the warp currents?” The helmsman budged in.

“Yes. Yes I can.” Isha smiled at them, happy to start repaying the men who saved her from imprisonment.

“We apologize for our ignorance my lady.” The helmsman added in. “It is just… even at the peak of the Great Crusade, teleportarium technology was never truly understood.”

Magnus: “Wait, peak of the Great Crusade? How old are-”  
Sanguinius: “Shush! You’re ruining the moment.”

“You are forgiven. There is a great many things and feats that I can perform, and I will do my best to repay all of your kindness.” She looked to Mortarion who was working out how to move his wings. “Now, hurry along. We have a planet to get down to and a lot of materials to move.”

Some of the lights went out even as Tarkus finished talking over the intercom vox. “And a narrow window to do it in, the reactor is now truly dead, we are on complete backup power.”

Mortarion stepped up, shrugging off Isha, all of the Marines looking at their genefather by instinct. “Do as she says. Gather any and all useful materials and gather all surviving legionaries on the bridge and prepare for teleport.”

It took an estimated time of about fifteen solar minutes to gather the equipment and Marines, many of which looked at each other with either surprise or even outright hugged one another, thinking that they had lost the bonds of their brotherhood long long ago. Many more looked at their genefather and Isha with a type of awe long not seen upon their faces. A look of pure inspirations, a look of _hope_.

When all were finally gathered, Tarkus stepped closer to his Primarch. “My lord, we are ready.”

Mortarion nodded and addressed his sons. “We don’t know what will greet us on the planet below. But, it has been proven both habitable and much safer than the wreck of this ship we are on. As it goes, we will gather in the teleportarium, fifty at a time and teleport to the ground, myself and Isha shall be in the last group.”

“Understood, my Primarch.” The marines chorused. This was surely to be interesting.

**…  
** **172.M42 - Planet ???  
** **…**

Sanguinius: “FINALLY! A DATE!”  
Horus: “But no planet name-”  
Sanguinius: “That comes later! A date! Terra yes, a date!”

“We made quite a bit at the market, Father.” The young lady spoke to her father who only made a ‘hmmm’ sound. The two were sitting atop their empty wagon, pulled by their oxen on the road home. “I think this should last us a while before we need to head back. What do you think?”

“Hmmm.” The older man only grunted.

The young woman sighed, “helpful.”

“Hmmm!?” He glanced at her, and she grinned at her father.

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing.”

“Hmmm.”

Fulgrim: “Hmm- Oh! I can talk again.”  
Ferrus: “How many of us came from feudal planets, again?”  
Leman: “Ah did! Fair chunk o’ us did.”  
Jaghatai: “Wrong. Death World.”  
Leman: “Death World tah ye, not tah me.”

She glanced around away from her father, his blacksmith gloves and apron draped over the seat behind them. It was nice to not hear the wagon shaking with the sound of metals, weapons, armour, and tools. In fact, it felt downright peaceful to look over the meadow they were driving through.

Well, as peaceful as a war could be.

She was about to say something to her father, when the most peculiar and frightening thing to happen… happened.

Thunder. On a cloudless and sunny day, thunder and lightning flashed across the sky and landed in the meadows all around them. What? Even more surprisingly, no rain followed. 

Both father and daughter dismissed it after a few moments passed by with nothing but the sound of the oxen and cart clanking along the road. Until…

More thunder and lightning! And about the same amount at the same place.

“Uhm… father, have you ever seen anything like this?”

He shook his head slowly, stopping the cart and looking past his daughter. Wishing more than ever that he had the ability to talk. He raised a hand and gently started pushing her to get into the back of the cart.

There it was again! More thunder and lightning! What in the name of the gods was happening?

What was happening? What kind of storm was that? Would there be a fire soon? Should they head back to the village? Should they stay and investigate? Were they closer to the town of Ectus or their own village? What are they supposed to do?

Yet again, more lighting and more thunder.

The girl dug in their travel pack and pulled out a long tube, their looking glass and started to peer out to where the thunder was striking. It was odd, she didn’t see flame over there. She saw… People?

She let out an involuntary scream as all of a sudden she was grabbed from behind and pulled off the cart, seeing the same thing happen to her father not even a second later even as their oxen stopped, their reigns held back. 

When she was pulled down, her arms were immediately pulled behind her back and held there in a hold so strong it felt as if her entire body was put in irons. She was terrified, she couldn’t really get a good look on their captors, but she knew it! She knew she didn’t hear a thing from them! It was as if they abused them after appearing from thin air!

Corvus: “Good work. One good good thing in this damned vid.”  
Vulkan: “It is good to see a quick capture. I hope they will let them go with little fuss.”

Nearby her father was fighting against their captors, looking ready to tear apart any who would dare hurt them.

But once she got a look at who was holding them, she wondered if her father could fight against such giants…

They were men! But… Not regular men? They were giants! All at least eight feet tall, as wide as an oxen with these metal holes on them and all of them wearing just the… the barest… of… She felt her face get hot as she stared at their bodies. They just had so many muscles and… Wow, nothing else was covered. If she wasn’t scared for her life and the life of her father, she wouldn’t mind watching them...

“Locals secured, Captain.” They spoke! They- they spoke the common tongue!?

Guilliman: “They understand Imperial Gothic, lucky.”  
Sanguinius: “Typical.”  
Guilliman: “Pardon?”  
Sanguinius: “Just… You know, typical. A lot of stupid holovision shows do that too.”  
Emperor: “LAZY WRITING IF YOU ASK ME.”

In the distance, yet more thunder and lightning sparked even as the “men” holding her picked her up to look at-

Was it possible for some of them to be taller and even more muscular? Because she could swear that this one was… _bigger_ than the others. Did that make him the Captain? Captain of what though? A ship? No… they were far from the Sea of the Lost. The Captain of a guard? But… they made no trouble in the previous village they were in… and that still did not explain why they were almost naked!

Her father at this point was kicking at them and looked as if he would be swearing at them to the Lost Sea and back. The one holding him held him out at length and was saying something to him.

The massive one, the Captain, apparently finally noticed that her father was mute… so he turned to her. Wow… those were the biggest- 

“You. Do you understand us?”

“Y-yes?” She spoke timidly, trying to keep her eyes upwards and not downwards where all the… “Please don’t kill us, you can take everyth-”

All the men around her appeared to sigh in relief, the one holding her even chuckling.

“We mean you no harm child.” The Captain spoke. “I am Captain Tarkus of… I suppose it does not matter. We are stranded and could use some direction as we are fairly new to… the area. We apologize for this sudden ambush.” With a nod from the Captain, they both found themselves released.

“HMMM!?” Her father was glaring at them, not believing them for a second.

Fulgrim: “I know how it feels.”  
Corvus: “Same.”  
Horus: “Funny how that works.”

One of the men glared back, going so far as to lean over her father, who in turn glared back, one of his hands going for the sword by his side. Her father was far from a swordsman, but a blade to the gut could still kill, no matter the skill of the hand wielding it. 

“Father! Please, just stop. If they wanted to kill us or do worse, they would have a long time ago.” Her father relaxed, but still glared at the large man above him, seemingly content to glare at each other. “I… I apologize, my father is… wary of warriors. We are blacksmiths by trade and we come from Reeve village that way…” She pointed behind them. “We just came back from Ectus town over there, selling our wares for the war effort.”

Lion: “I don’t like that.”  
Rogal: “Wary of warriors can mean many things. Most of them are bad.”  
Lion: “I swear, it better not be errant knights or I swear…”

Yet again, thunder and lightning flashed in the distance.

“I see. We shall await the arrival of- my lord, and then you can tell him what you know and you shall be free to leave.”

She looked up at Captain Tarkus in disbelief. Reevers which wanted nothing more than simple directions? No, impossible. “You-you jest. Surely?”

“No jests.” He bowed his head as fairly as if he were some Knight. “I give to you, my word.”

In the moments that followed, more lightning and thunder flashed as they waited. She had to calm down her father multiple times even as the man from before wouldn’t quit his staring competition with him.

“Pant.” Tarkus commanded, causing the man who was having the staring competition with her father to look at his Captain. “Quit staring at the native and go check the field for any other movement with the rest of the legionaries.”

“Legionaries? That’s an interesting word.” It was a weird word to speak. “Are you all knights? But if you are, then where is your armor? Your swords?” She looked around at the group of half naked, massive men. “Your mounts?”

Pant walked off without a second command even as Tarkus addressed the girl. “We are… a sort of Knight. Though both our armour, weapons and means of transportation were lost in an incident. Therefore we were forced to seek refuge on this field.”

Lion: “They’re not wrong.”  
Guilliman: “The way of politics, lying while also telling the truth.”

“Incident? Were you at the Battle of the Valley? It happened only a week ago, there are still wounded being carted from there. And the field is still wet with blood, filled with vulcreatures and corpse fires.”

“A different type of battle occurred for me and my brothers.” Tarkus explained with patience. “But where are my manners, I am Tarkus, and you are?”

“Oh! Pardon mysir, I am Lily, only daughter of my father, Ondemus.” She hastily bowed her head. “We are blacksmiths, as I have spoken before.”

Vulkan: “A fine profession!”  
Ferrus: “Dead useful.”  
Perturabo: “Aren’t you two kind of biased?”  
Vulkan: “I don’t understand.”

He bowed his head yet again. “Fine to make your acquaintance.” One more flash of lightning and thunder. “My lord should be here soon.”

True to Tarkus’ words, soon enough they saw more of the Men in the distance. But this one- wow! The one at the head, he was so tall and- HAD WINGS!?

“Is he an angel?”

Tarkus smiled at the innocence even as some of the men let out a chuckle. “Close to it.”

Mortarion: “Ugh, how long is it going to take to get used to that?”  
Sanguinius: “For you? Forever.”  
Mortarion: “Oh yeah? How long did it take you to get used to it?”  
Sanguinius: “I don’t.”

When the angel walked closer, the Captain bowed his head. “My Lord Mortarion. We made contact with the locals, they speak Gothic and welcomed us fairly.” The angel. Mortarion… what a strange name. Approached even as Tarkus walked by his side and pointed at her father and then her. “The blacksmith Ondemus and his daughter, Lily.”

She could help but be awed as the massive giant amongst giants approached and kneeled in front of her. “I see that my sons have promised you your safe release upon some information.”

She nodded, it was the only thing she could do in the awed state that she was in.

“Well, as it is, we have nothing to trade you for it. Nor for anything else I am afraid. But so be it, if you would please, tell us the lay of this land. We are far from home and do not know it.”

She gulped at that, trying to string together her thoughts. Okay, there was a literal angel in front of her and his army of giant, chiseled, muscled men in their small clothes. Were- were these Angivinians? Or maybe even Toscians? The accent fit the former far more then the latter but she heard that Toscians were that massive and strong as oxen! But… “Ah, yes. Apologies… We are between my village, Reeve and the town of Ectus… My king is Andras III, passed away about… two years ago now. His only child and son, Andras IV is currently not at his age of majority, a regency prevails over our home. We…” She paused, remembering her history to her best ability, “We are the northern people with Toscia and the Angevin Empire to the south of us.”

Mortarion listened, patient with the baseline.

She swore, there was also… Ah yes! “And- And we are currently in the middle of a war with… I can’t rightly remember, my lord…” She felt her heart thump heavily in her chest even as she desperately hoped he would be satisfied with the vague answer and not prod further for a hint at her allegiance...

One of the men whispered something into Mortarion’s ear, causing the massive giant to nod slightly. “I thank you sincerely for this information. I wish you good tidings on your path back to your village.” Then he, along with his men turned and simply began walking away...

“Really?” She was astounded, this… this didn’t happen… “You are truly keeping your word? You’re not going to rob us? Raid our village?”

Perturabo: “Yeah, about as bad as Olympia.”  
Magnus: “When we have the time, I would love to help with that.”  
Rogal: “And I as well.”  
Guilliman: “Can I get in on that?”  
Perturabo: “I… Yes… Yes, you can… thank you…”

Mortarion stopped and looked behind him. “We have no quarrel with you. You are free to leave, truly.” Then he continued walking, waving his men with him as they disappeared into the meadows they came from before.

Watching them leave, Lily and her father quickly boarded their cart again and quickly started to leave back to their village, rushing the oxen in case the giant men decided to go back on their word.

As they rode, Lily looked back at her father, her eyes filled with worry. “Do-do you think they were scouts for an army? Everyone in Ectus was saying that the lands were filled with them nowadays.”

Horus: “She’s not wrong.”

She stopped when she felt her father take her hand, an assuring squeeze was all he could give her. The look he gave her spoke volumes, how scared he was and his face showed his age. He wanted to say so much more, but knew not a sound would ever escape him. All he could do was show relief and assure her that everything was going to be fine. And she believed that.

The marines and their Primarch made their way back to the meadow, greeted by Isha and the rest of the marines that escaped with them. Most of them were clothed now, Isha hard at work at weaving them tunics to at least cover their bodies even as she sat on the ground, her eyes closed and glowing with a gentle light even as she meditated.

Fulgrim: “Oh good, we no longer have to suffer through more Pillarstodes references.”  
Konrad: “Do not ever bring them up again.”  
Fulgrim: “What? I’m just saying-”  
Emperor: “TWENTY-”  
Fulgrim: “I am shutting up! Ok!?”

The clothes being white and green brought up some bad memories from their shared past, but they couldn’t afford to be picky. At least they weren’t naked anymore, they would have to learn to clothe themselves to not have to rely on Isha all the time.

Starting over completely would make many feel like peasants, but Mortarion was determined to beat their training back in with this… unorthodox situation they found themselves in.

Ferrus: “Good. A situation like this is perfect for training your men.”  
Magnus: “That sounds like something Rogal would normally say.”  
Rogal: “Yes.”

How many marines did he even have? Doing a quick headcount, how many trips they took in the teleportarium…

“Six hundred.” He spoke, still unused to his own voice changing. “There are only six hundred of you, my loyal sons.”

“There were thousand’s on board the _Endurance_.” Tarkus stated helpfully.

“Another thing if I may add in, Captain, my Primarch.” A Marine who appeared to be mostly covered in soot stepped closer. “I have served since Terra. Under the Thunderbolts of Unity and the Raptor Imperialis. Before even becoming a Techmarine who worked in the _Endurance’s_ mighty enginorium when not in the fight.”

Ah, that explained the soot.

“But my lord, what I noticed was… I spot none of our brothers from Barbarus among us.”

Mortarion: “What.”  
Horus: “That… does make sense…”  
Magnus: “Now it all makes sense! Wow, all of them are still alive now. We could actually meet these men now instead of waiting ten thousand years for them to be born.”  
Mortarion: “I… I suppose… I know Tarkus is serving in my Deathshroud now… Huh…”  
Lion: “If they are all from Terra, then I am eager to see how they develop and use their second chance.”  
Sanguinius: “Oh, I do hope there is a long series about this!”  
Mortarion: “It is one vid. Not likely.”  
Sanguinius: “Oh come on! There is so much material to go over and there has to be more about them and their work!”  
Emperor: “CALM DOWN, SANGUINIUS, WE’LL GET YOU YOUR CONTENT. AND POSSIBLY A DATE IF YOU CAN’T CALM DOWN.”  
Sanguinius: “A-A date? What? Why?”  
Emperor: “WE MAY HAVE FOILED THE PLANS OF THE ENEMY FOR THE FUTURE AND NOW, BUT I WOULDN’T PUT IT PAST THEM TO TRY A NEW PLAN. SO FOR NOW, DATES AND DOING WHAT WE DO BEST. WATCH VIDS AND RUIN PEOPLE’S PLANS.”

Muttering burst out amongst the Marines.

“Furthermore I see my eyes land upon many a familiar face. I knelt alongside most of these legionnaires in the dirt of Terra far before any of us called each other ‘brother’ my Lord.”

Mortarion looked around the group, his height giving him the distinct advantage of being able to look over his sons with ease.

“Any of you sired from Barbarus, say Aye!” 

His only answer was the wind blowing across the meadow they were standing on.

“Any of you sired from Terra, from before the Wars of Unity ended… say Aye!”

A deafening echo of Aye’s was his immediate answer followed by a shocked silence as all of the present Legionaries all looked at each other, both in shock and surprise.

“Perhaps the vow they have made on Terra was what saved their souls from eternally serving under Nurgle.” Isha was heard muttering to herself from behind them.

Mortarion could not even begin to understand the details of celestial pacts and contracts… but all that mattered, for now, was that he had his sons, and they were safely on this planet… which did not sound safe at all.

He turned to Isha. “What is it that you see?”

She breathed deeply and opened her eyes, looking at Mortarion. “Death, War… savagery.” She shook her head lightly. “The occupants of this planet have both the hands of Khorne and Tzeentch upon them, detached only due to their population being minuscule compared to a standard human world.” She sighed. “But it is habitable, and I sense that what remains of the _Endurance_ will remain safely in space for now, however should we stay here…” Her eyes saddened further. “There will be war. There is no doubt in my heart.”

Before Mortarion could answer, there was a chuckle from one of the Legionnaires.

“I am sorry to say so ma’am.” It was Gorm who was speaking. “But what you just described to us, we call home.”

Tarkus pushed back the Legionnaire. “As crudely as the legionnaire put it my lady, he is correct. The Emperor bred us for one thing and one thing only truly... war.”

Mortarion felt his lips stretch with the inkling of a tiny smile. “My sons will weather this storm, we have faced far worse.”

“And what then? What then is your plan?” She asked even as her head tilted slightly to the side. All around her, the earth was springing to life with flowers, sweet smelling grasses, including a sprouting tree to shade her.

Mortarion’s smile slightly dropped even as he looked towards the horizon, where the blacksmiths from before rode off to.

“For now… I am content with simply living.”

Fulgrim: “That is… oddly poetic, coming from you brother.”  
Mortarion: “Humph.”  
Fulgrim: “Take the damn compliment.”  
Mortarion: “Fuck you.”

...  
 **172.M42 - Planet ???,** **_Near Reeve Village_**  
 **...**

Vulkan: “Oh no… I hope nothing bad happens to the nice people…”  
Konrad: *breathes*  
Vulkan: “No!”  
Mortarion: “Why are we still watching this? Don’t we have enough to go off of? I land on the planet, I suppose I fix things up and the people are thankful for me. Then I suppose Guilliman finds me and destroys the planet because how dare a planet be helped by a traitor.”  
Guilliman: “I wouldn’t exterminatus a planet just because you helped them!”  
Mortarion: “Hnnn.”  
Guilliman: “I wouldn’t! Where do you get these ideas anyway? Why are so many people intent on seeing me as a horrible person? I accepted _Konrad_ of all people in the future, why wouldn’t I accept you too?”  
Konrad: “I still have no idea why I’m even alive.”  
Mortarion: “You’re an insufferable asshole who can’t take the time to deign anyone with your presence and you make life hell for everyone around you.”  
Guilliman: “Hi pot, I’m kettle.”  
Mortarion: “Frak off.”  
Guilliman: “No, come back! You don’t get to just say stuff like that then brush it off-”  
Emperor: “BOYS. STOP OR I’LL TAKE YOUR SPEAKING PRIVILEGES.”  
Konrad: “Is that an order?”

When her village came into sight, Lily could finally breathe a sigh of relief. Leaving the village was always terrifying. You could be attacked by Reevers, or maybe by demigryphs, or perhaps a swarm of dragons could descend on you and carry you away into the clouds. Or worse. You could be found by bored soldiers of a passing army.

But at Reeve, they were safe. No army strayed out this far north and all the forests were a safe distance away. And they were definitely far enough away from the coasts so that they wouldn’t be plagued by shellings that would crawl out of the water to come and raid the port towns.

Magnus, Jaghatai and Rogal: “That’s a jinx.”

But thankfully, they were home now and they could return to their forge and prepare for a night of rest before-

Her father stopped the cart, his arm holding her back as he watched the village. With how still he went, she wondered what was going on. The village was completely quiet, why would-

It was quiet.

Now she stilled as well, a quiet village was never a good sign. She barely turned to her father, who looked as if he was planning what to do next. He looked to her and dug out a sword for her to hold, ready to get out and find safety for her even as he whipped the oxen forward as fast as he could move, looking closer at the nearby fields of flowing wheat, looking for movement-

The cart halted suddenly, causing Lilly to look forward and feel as her eyes spread apart in fear. 

There was a man on the road.

Magnus: “Called it.”  
Jaghatai: “Shame, we didn’t bet on it.”  
Leman: “Could be worse.”  
Jaghatai: “Twenty thrones on that it is indeed worse.”

A man armed with a gambeson, sword and even a few pieces of plate and mail armour.

This spelled trouble. Either this was a Reever high on his luck or a deserter… both options were equally terrible.

He smiled at them then. A terrible, toothy wide grin, showing blackened teeth.

“Hello friends.” He spoke with a southern accent, far too south for a simple Reever… deserter it was then. She felt… clammy when she noticed his eyes drifted to her for too long.

“Hello.” She nodded back. “My father can’t speak, so you’ll have to bear it with me.”

He nodded and took a few steps forward even as more men came out of the wheat, all lightly armed and armoured, some were leaning against their spears lazily. Outnumbered greatly, she knew that something terrible was bound to happen.

Leman: “...glad I didn’t take tha’ bet to be honest.”  
Jaghatai: “Humph.”

“Now, we want no trouble.” He spoke in a sing-song voice. “That village down there gave us our due but said that the blacksmiths weren’t present.” He tsked. “Glad to have found you.” He sauntered over to the cart, moving the tarp that covered the weapons and tools they hadn’t managed to sell even as he whistled. “Now that is some fine handiwork.” He circled the cart even as the men got closer, before he stopped directly in front of her, his dirty brown eyes looking directly into her clear blue ones. “We will just be taking the lot, a long way onto the next village. Off the cart if you so please.”

“Come on, boss. Can’t we take her too? We haven’t been around a woman in gods knows how long.”

Fulgrim: “Ugh, how vulgar.”  
Sanguinius: “Can people just not think with their lower halves for ten minutes, please?”  
Konrad: “Ha. No.”

He rolled his eyes. “Go get your cock wet somewhere else.” His eyes now focused back on her. “As you can see, I am trying to be a good sir about all this. Now, hop off if you will and we’ll both go on our merry way.” There were many loud grumblings at his ruling.

Her father reached for her, holding her close as he looked from the man to their cart. Their tools and provisions were still in the cart, and this was all they had left… But if he angered them, then perhaps their leader would stop being so nice...

She stood up and prepared to hop off. Only to hear the rasp of a blade on it’s scabbard as her father drew his sword and leveled it at the leader of the deserters.

Immediately, the leader’s men drew their own weapons, the leader doing so as well with his own sword

Leman: “Tough old codger.”  
Konrad: “But stupid.”  
Corvus: “His entire livelihood is on that cart, I'm not surprised to be honest. On Deliverance, the people had very little to live for, but they would fight to the death for it.”  
Fulgrim: “A tough people who know what they are fighting for. I can yet respect that.”

“Ah, always find that one far off villager who has the logic of a dragon.” The deserters all chuckled. “Guess we’ll be taking your life along with your things then.” The leader waved his men forward, one of them going directly for Lily, the one who had asked before about- gods! No!

She tried scratching at his ugly face, trying desperately to push him away even as they fell to the ground. Her father was a blur in her vision, the sounds of conflict bleeding away as she could feel the hands of this dirty Reever-

She didn’t have to try for long as a blade came directly through his mouth, stopping not far away from her own face. She screamed and pushed him off, seeing just in time as her father backed away, the deserters going after him even as their leader approached her blood covered self.

“I suppose I should thank you for that old man.” He spoke out loud, his sword now poking the, still shocked Lily at her stomach. “Bastard was a rapist. Made a terrible soldier. But I do have a reputation to keep, so if you please-” He gestured to her father with his free hand. “Drop your sword, give us your things and we will forget this ever- **KHM!** ”

Suddenly, the leader was lifted from his feet. His gorget, protected neck in the hold of a _massive_ hand as it lifted him from the ground as easily as if he were but an empty bucket.

Mortarion: “Fuck him up, boys.”  
Sanguinius: “I thought you were cheering for your death?”  
Mortarion: “Doesn’t mean I tolerate common criminals.”  
Konrad: “Good. Now tear them to pieces!”

Then the hand squeezed. The metal of the man’s gorget squealed as it suddenly bent into his skin, flesh and muscle being torn before the man’s neck was snapped clean in half.

Even as the man died, the other deserters were fallen upon. One of them took a stone to the head, causing his skull to crack widely open from the sheer force of the impact, splattering his brain across the road. Another two were simply charged into by one of the men from before on the road, using his own two arms to beat down the deserters, caving in their chests and faces.

She could only lie there and watch as the very deserters that were trying to rob them were reduced to little more than prey who looked to have been fallen open by a demigryph in the matter of seconds.

She kept looking as two deserters made a run for it, making it only a little further than the cart before- the Angel! Ney… the Lord from the road! He was clad in pure white silk now. He swooped down from the sky and _landed upon the deserters_ , the sheer force of the impact enough to throw them onto the road even as their ribs cracked and their chest cavities caved in, killing them instantly.

Sanguinius: “Way to make an entrance. I’ve done the same a few times.”  
Mortarion: “Shut up.”

What… what did she just see? What-what-

“Are you alright ma’am?”

She whirled around, seeing-

“Ca-captain-” She managed to stutter out.

“You will be fine.” Captain Tarkus looked down at her. “Merely in shock, any wounds?”

She shook her head, not trusting her voice right now.

“Good.” He nodded off. “Gorm, how’s the blacksmith?”

Gorm appeared to be looking over Ondemus, who proceeded to shrug off the legionnaire’s attention and rush over to his daughter. “Tough old codger.” Gorm chuckled. Now beginning to wipe down the gore and blood on his arm with some of the deserter's clothing.

Leman: “Oi! Hands off me quips, flower boy!”  
Mortarion: “Did you just call him a flower boy?”  
Leman: “Aye, cause you got Isha and she made them clothes outta the stuff.”  
Mortarion: “...I don’t even want to argue with that. Your logic is flawed..”  
Guilliman: “As flawed as you calling me the very same things you do?”  
Mortarion: “Hnnn.”

“Disgusting.” Mortarion looked down at the waste of flesh he had stomped the life out of. “Well, come along. If they were here, there could be more of them in the village. Spread out, I don’t want a single one of these people alive by the time the moons have risen.”

A rather disturbing grin grew on the face of some of the legionaries. 

“As you command my lord.” It was Pant, the Marine who earlier on was having a staring competition with Ondemus. “I think you will find that we still remember the old ways.”

Mortarion nodded back. “Good.” He looked ahead to the village. “Use the forests for the approach. Attack at will and purge this vermin.”

He looked at each one, some of which were taking the weapons of the dead deserters, finding them barely even the size of knives or short swords at most in their hands as they twirled them in their hands while walking away.

Lily, seeing this, forced herself to her feet and pushed off her attending father. “Wait!” 

They all paused even as she climbed onto the cart and pulled out a sword and a spear. “They aren’t many… and they aren’t that good, but they are better than your bare hands.”

The Legionaries looked at Mortarion who smiled slightly.

“If the good lady offered.” He gestured even as he took to the sky again and the Marines began to go by the cart, Lily handing out whatever they could use. Sometimes they even expressed preference.

One thing was made very clear very quickly, however. These soldiers… these ‘legionaries’ as they were called… they were skilled to say the least. They toyed around with whatever weapon they chose or got, as easily as if their hands were _made_ to wield them.

It went fine until-

“Ca-captain Tarkus.” She stuttered slightly. He had waited until he was the last of the three dozen which came for the weapons. She looked down at the measly few which were left, feeling shame grow within her heart. “I- I would like to thank you sincerely for saving my life and…” She smiled ruefully even as she looked up. “I’m afraid there isn’t much left.”

Tarkus smiled back and peered over and into the cart. “What is the biggest one you have?”

She sighed. “Well… maybe the-”

She was stopped by a hand on her shoulder and looked over to find her father looking at her, then he looked at Tarkus and climbed down and to the side of the cart before untying something.

He heaved it with a grunt and brought it around-

A halberd. A quite big one. A custom order for which the customer never came for, supposedly died in the Battle of the Valley… a damn shame considering how good the craftsmanship of it was and that it would now cost them an absolute fortune…

But… her father extended it in Tarkus’ direction. Gesturing for him to take it.

Tarkus looked at the weapon and then at Ondemus, seeing the gratitude in his eyes. This wasn’t about just the weapon, it was about paying a debt.

With both hands, Tarkus took the halberd and swung it about. It wasn’t nearly as heavy as the Manreaper he had wielded for the extreme part of his life but… it would more than do for this vermin.

...

“Well, that was easier than practice.” Gorm chuckled as he walked to Tarkus’ side, who himself was standing in the village center, cleaning off the blood of his newfound halberd. Not used to the blood and gore sticking to the blade instead of simply burning off like on a powered weapon.

Sanguinius: “Oh come on! They cut out the juicy part!”  
Ferrus: “I wanted to see them kill deserters too…”

“Practice or not, the raiders were dealt with.” He spoke, now lowering the halberd and looking over the village. Its streets were peppered with corpses and limbs while the hard dirt soaked up the blood. In the dawn light it was hard to see the carnage in detail, but with his enhanced Astartes senses Tarkus could see more than enough to confirm all of their enemies dead.

As if on cue, the giant flap of wings was heard and Lord Mortarion landed gracefully in front of the Captain and Gorm even as the other Legionaries began to gather.

“Good execution captain,” Mortarion spoke, getting a solid foothold on the ground, still unused to flying with his body in such a different state.

“Thank you, my Primarch.” Tarkus bowed his head slightly. “What of the villagers?”

Mortarion looked at the houses surrounding them all, not many of the Legionaries were needed to kill the few dozen raiders which had remained, thus Mortarion took less than a hundred, only for the sake of efficiency, the rest remained in the woods outside of the village bounds along with Isha.

“Someone fetch the blacksmiths.” He ordered. “Lest they think us raiders as well.”

Tarkus bowed his head and ordered a Legionaire to run off, he did so without a second thought, even as Mortarion closed his eyes and breathed the air.

It had only been the better part of four of the planet’s cycles that they had spent on Vyn as it was apparently named. Four days of breathing clean air for the first time since he could truly remember and living without a single wound on his body.

Leman: “There, a few days. Better than a Sanguinius.”  
Sanguinius: “I swear I will end you-”  
Leman: “No yer won’t. Ah’m too lovable.”

It was a strange feeling, so strange to have hope again. Clearly this planet had no direct contact with the Imperium and according to the stars, they were on the further south-eastern edges of the Ultima Segmentum, worryingly close to Macragge but far away enough that they should go under any sensors for a long time.

Guilliman: “Hmm… yes, I can understand that. With everything else going on with Imperium Secundus and our uneasy borders… You really could live there for quite a while with no one the wiser.”  
Emperor: “NEED TO REMEMBER THIS IS ALSO BEFORE I DIE, SO MAYBE MORTARION WILL GET TO WITNESS THAT. IN A WAY.”  
Mortarion: “If I do, I’ll throw a party.”  
Emperor: “RUDE.”

Long enough to start anew perhaps? That was the biggest question. Already, the old ways of the Legion called to them all. Astartes were never meant to be farmers or simply blacksmiths and such. War was in their very blood, the very fabric of their being called for it and sung in pleasing tones at its height.

As proven very easily thus far. Truth be told, the low level of technological development was far less of a bother to Mortarion than many would think. It gave him a chance to think, to detach and meditate on simpler times. 

Simpler times that looked to be happening again.

What would they do now? Would the villagers accept them perhaps? Could they just keep going? Start off somewhere in the wilderness of this world?

He was certain that if they strayed closer to the bigger cities, politics would sink their sharp claws into them in an instant.

And that was the second issue. The Astartes were bred for war, but they were just the soldiers. Their Primarchs… they were meant to conquer planets. And once united with their gene-sons, it proved to be remarkably easy for the most part.

He was no tactical thinker on the same level as certain brothers, nor was he an absolute genius in military strategy to the point of faultless mastery. But Mortarion knew if he tried and played his cards correctly… this planet could be his in less than a solar decade.

Unimpressive if he had had his whole legion, but he only had six-hundred unarmoured and unarmed Legionaries, albeit they were Veterans and the tools were only as great as their wielders, but they had no tools to speak of. A sword and halberd could not bring down a city wall, nor was an Astartes skin impervious to heavier and better weaponry.

Perturabo: “Weak.”  
Mortarion: “Weak? Did you see just how massive the planet is-”  
Perturabo: “I was able to conquer Olympia in less than a decade.”  
Magnus: “Yes, but you prepared the stage very carefully before you did so and had the backing of one of the most powerful tyrants.”  
Perturabo: “Yes, however, Mortarion has six hundred Astartes. If he is careful he can easily get it down to five years.”  
Jaghatai: “Do I smell a bet?”  
Mortarion: “Just… stop it.”

“My lord.” He was snapped out of his thoughts by Tarkus. “The blacksmiths are here.”

Lily and Ondemus walked closer, looking in awe at the corpses and at the Legionaries, noticing that not only were most of the deserters split completely in half from the shear force of the blow of the weapons that had fallen them, the Legionaries which had done the deed stood without a single wound to show for it. Indeed, most stood as still as statues, not doing so much as even breathing heavily from exhaustion. Not for the first time had the thought entered Lily’s mind. Who were these men? Were they angels of death fallen from the heavens?

“My lord.” She bowed her head when she had finally reached Mortarion. “I- I thank you sincerely for saving our village.”

Mortarion raised a massive hand as if to stop her. “Say nothing of it. I only ask that you inform the other members of this village that the threat has been dealt with and that we mean them no harm.”

**...**

_Well, if we're going to be pampered like this for killing a couple of deserters every time_ … Gorm was quite happy to sit in the tavern of Reeve, barmaids serving him mead and tarts. He was happy to sit here and gorge himself for being a hero. Even if Captain 

Tarkus was staring him down and was quite unhappy at Gorm for simply _enjoying himself._ Which were the fruits of their very arduous labour! Well… maybe not arduous, more like “taking a stroll through a field of weakened humans and cutting off their heads as easily as if they were wheat.”

“ **Gorm**.” Tarkus spoke, making the marine falter under the Captain’s tone.

Lion: “Reminds me of when the Knights of Caliban would go to the taverns to brag about their hunts.”  
Leman: “Aye? Did you ever do the same? What happened to them?”  
Lion: “It was unbecoming of a knight. I made sure the practice stopped altogether when I became the Grand Master of the order.”

Said marine was quick to down his mead, watching his captain over the rim of his wooden tankard. “What? There is nothing wrong with enjoying having buxom ladies serve you mead and food.”

“Conduct yourself as if the Emperor himself were watching.” Tarkus growled.

Gorm looked at Tarkus, milling over those words for a few seconds, before raising the Tankard. “Here’s to his majesty's health!” He chuckled and chugged down the rest of the mead, slamming it down on the table even as the cry was echoed by some of the villagers, albeit in a somewhat confused tone.

Leman: *Chuckles* “Witty, that one.”

Tarkus was busy rubbing his eyes and sighing to scold Gorm for the moment. At least it was innovative. 

Truth be told, this moment of lax celebration shouldn’t be bothering him as much as it was in the first place. The citizens of Reeve did not have much to offer, but they insisted upon this feast for the hundred or so Legionaries which had taken part in the killing of the apparent deserters as a reward. 

Mortarion accepted on their behalf.

Ugh… politics.

Tarkus spied that his own tankard was refilled, and he was ready to shoo away the barmaids that Gorm most likely was siccing on him when he saw her again. Lily, the blacksmith, was back. She was refilling his tankard for him. “My thanks.” He grumbled and wondered why she was here with him.

“It’s only thanks, my lord.” She smiled at him. “You saved my life, saved my father and also my village. I believe it’s my due to refill your cup and bring you your food as thanks.” She placed down a plate of steaming pottage in front of both the Legionaries. “Excuse please that it’s so meagre but… winter isn’t far off and we need to at least preserve some of our stores.”

“No, it is fine.” He paused then remembered it was prudent to return it. “Ah, the halberd you have loaned me has served well. I will be sure to return it back to your home-”

“No!” She practically shrieked before coughing as she waved it off, “No. No, it was a gift. I gave it to you to not only defend us all, but to defend yourself as well. It’s… quite an insult to hold onto a weapon made for war in a shop when there is a capable pair of hands to use it.”

Tarkus could hear Gorm laughing into his tankard, he could hear the words of ‘yeah, a weapon such as that would need two hands to take care of’ making Tarkus wish he could punch Gorm’s head off. He shook it off and thought over her words. It certainly made sense… “If that is what you wish. I will care for and make sure your gift will not be wasted.”

“Thank you!” She smiled widely at Tarkus, happy to know her gift was in such capable and caring hands. “Now please, keep enjoying yourself! I’ll see about getting you some more mead!” She then ran off, leaving Gorm to start laughing at the Captain once he shooed away his own barmaids to get him more mead as well.

“...you are the reason why gene-seed stopped being inserted at later ages.” Tarkus quipped with as much malice as he could at the moment.

Emperor: “OH. HE’S ONE OF THOSE.”  
Leman: “Oi! What’s wrong with implanting at later ages?”  
Horus: *Points at screen*  
“Hypo-”  
“-crite.”  
Horus: “Shut up, and fuck you.”

“Aw, come now. It has served me well enough. Not my fault that I still remember how to use it. Perhaps you are jealous?”

“If we were on the _Endurance_ , I would demand we go to the sparring arena and do this the old way.”

“Ha. Haha. No. I know I’d lose. You would kick my ass. Brutally. I want to actually have a reputation here.”

Tarkus looked over at a barmaid who was coming back with two tankards of mead. Despite Tarkus not even so much as having touched his own. She smiled when she looked at him, but when she noticed his “drinking companion” her look immediately soured. “Yes.” Tarkus quipped. “You are certainly doing well on that part.”

Sanguinius: “I want to see their growth.”  
Rogal: “Brother. They are already fully grown Astartes.”  
Mortarion: “If you want to see that so badly, you can take them off my hands now.”  
Emperor: “STOP TRYING TO PUT YOUR SONS THROUGH SOCIAL SERVICES, MORTARION.”

Meanwhile, as the two marines were going back and forth, Mortarion was quite comfortable sitting near the roaring fire in the back of the tavern. He was glad that his presence made all of the barmaids too scared to look at him, or else he would be like Gorm and his growing number of ladies looking to distance themselves from. He did have the company of the mayor of the village with him, which was infinitely more of an interesting conversation.

He expected their mayor to be old, frail, probably fat as well. He did not expect to meet an older, scarred war veteran who smiled at him warmly. “We are truly grateful to you, my lord.” The man bowed his head as he sat near Mortarion, doing his best to stay in the larger man’s presence.

“Say nothing of it.” Mortarion spoke calmly. “Me and my men so happened to be nearby.”

“You must understand, we have never seen men like you before. Lily has spoken that you and your people came with the lightning and thunder?” The old vet asked, wonderment in his old face. “What kind of homeland breeds men such as you?”

Mortarion took a moment to think. “One of constant war. Of eternal conquest. Of creatures which require men of my caliber to slaughter the enemy.”

The mayor, while not fully understanding the true ramifications of Mortarion’s words, still understood war. “It is a sad fate to be born from such a state. I do not fully know the horrors that you have seen, but I do understand war. If it is not rude to ask, you seem young still, yet you speak as if you are as old and wizened as I do. Which king do you serve? Do you serve a king? What do you plan to do with these men that you travel with?”

Mortarion mulled it all over, taking a small sip of the mead, finding the taste foreign but comforting. “Old.” He replied simply. “Old enough to serve no king you most likely know of.” He smiled gently, attempting to not appear hostile. “I do not have any current plans. My men and I stumbled upon this land after an… accident stranded us here with no way of continuing our journey, therefore, we are without any goal at the moment.”

“Then you are in need of a place to call home?” Mortarion didn’t need to look at the old man to know he was going to attempt to barter with him. “If you are… Then why not stay here in Reeve? We are far away from the capital, far from the other kingdoms and there is still open land that most would not dare to settle in. You will have the space you need to grow and plan your next move.” The old man paused, then shrugged as he added in, “...and you can protect us if we are to be attacked again.”

“I should warn you, sir mayor, I have far more men than you saw here.” Mortarion attempted to stay calm even as his mind pondered on such a possibility. “Most likely such an amount that they outnumber the amount of people in this village. We would very likely empty your stores quickly, even though we require not much food.”

 **“Perhaps** we can work something out? Expanding the fields and helping out the village can go a long way.”

Mortarion leaned forward and closer to the fire. With his current height, if he stood he was quite likely to hit his head on one of the rafters, thus he was already leaning before, from muscle memory.

Though him leaning forward now was to in fact hide the look of hope which had appeared on his face.

Over the last few days, events had gone by fast. Far too fast, even for a Primarch.

He managed to save Isha. Have his soul rescued by the Emperor and then somehow… _tied_ to Isha? He was still unsure of that. Then they managed to escape and land on this strange planet and in a twist of luck ran into someone capable of giving them directions.

And then, over the course of a couple of days, he managed to finally start getting used to his body and begin contemplating what exactly to do with an army of six-hundred legionaries and an Aeldari Goddess while stuck on this planet.

Could it be? Could it be so simple as just… going back to being a simple farmer?

A literal start over, in every meaning of the word. He found it too good to be true, yet here was the mayor, offering it to him on a plate. 

Well… explaining Isha would be difficult. He was still struggling with knowing what happened truly there himself and… and why he could now constantly feel her presence and… no, he had no time to think about it now. One step at a time…

“I accept.”

Rogal: “I am happy for you, brother. This shall give you a chance to right your wrongs. To fortify your resolve.”  
Mortarion: “I… don’t know what to think of it, truth be told…”  
Konrad: “Be happy, you spiteful lump. You literally get a clean slate and the peace you wanted.”

**…  
** **M42 - Above Macragge,** **_Aboard the Phalanx  
_ ** **...**

Sanguinius: *Straightens in his throne* “I… have a question.”  
Emperor: “UHM, YES SANGUINIU-”  
Sanguinius: “WHY!?”  
Leman: “Holy shite, calm down-”  
Sanguinius: “WHY!? WHY ARE WE WATCHING MACRAGGE AGAIN!? SO MUCH CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT MISSED. SO MANY STORIES UNTOLD! SO MUCH POSSIBLE ACTION THROWN STRAIGHT IN THE TOILET!”  
Guilliman: “Ignore him, he just needs a good rant. Just be glad he isn’t destroying a room.”

They never felt this good before! All the good food, exercise and being appreciated… It did good things to men. At least that is what Titus Pullo and Lucius Vorenus thought as they were carrying the next few border reports to their Lord Dorn.

Guilliman: “THEY’RE BACK. WHY. WHY ARE THEY BACK- WHY CAN’T WE EVER FOCUS ON SOMEONE WHO ACTUALLY MATTERS-”  
Magnus: “What the- Where did this come from, Roboute? What even is going on…”  
Horus: “Ignore him, he just needs a good rant. Just be glad he isn’t destroying a room.”  
Sanguinius and Roboute: *Ranting about the unfairness of the vid*

Ah. Well, a few to them, more like an ass load to most other people. Most serfs wouldn’t be able to carry the load of reports they currently were, which was thanks to the good food provided to them by the gracious and caring host that was Friedrich Dorn.

But when they were given good food, that meant they had more energy and calories to burn. Friedrich was quite passionate about being healthy and living a healthy lifestyle so he was sure to include them in his training regime… Which nearly killed them the first few times. But due to his encouragement and his own personal brand of energy smoothies, they were able to survive his training and grow quite some muscle… a lot of muscle… they did not want to know what was in those smoothies…

Emperor: “ENERGY SMOOTHIES…? ARE THEY TALKING ABOUT PROTEIN SHAKES?”  
Fulgrim: “What.”  
Emperor: “SEEING HOW MUCH BIGGER THEY ARE AND HOW WELL IN SHAPE THEY ARE… I DON’T THINK THOSE ARE REGULAR PROTEIN SHAKES.”  
Horus: “Why are you talking about Protein shakes…?”

And since they survived his training, they certainly got stronger and since they got stronger, they got better gifts and so on… Either way, they have never felt this good in their lives!

“I swear, life as a guardsmen is definitely different compared to being a part of the legion back in the day.”

“No kidding. But at least everything is better now. Come along, we need to get these reports to Lord Friedrich.”

Horus: “What? What legion? They’re baselines! They aren’t a part of any legion that we would know of! That word has been copyrighted by us!”  
Fulgrim: “Gland warriors~”  
Horus: “Those aren’t legionnaires, they’re illegal. In either case, they’re not Astartes, so what the hell are they talking about?”  
Emperor: “I’M UNSURE BUT… NOW THAT THEY MENTION IT… THEY DO LOOK FAMILIAR…”

They passed by quite a few tech marines and tech adepts who were constantly working to repair the _Phalanx._ The grand old lady could still bite perfectly well, but ten millennia of almost constant wear and tear and loss of knowledge of many of the rites of maintenance had done their due course. That, combined with it being forced to fly directly to Macragge all the way from Terra had itself been a true trial. But now, Rogal Dorn had returned, and with his knowledge, his regal daughter could be once more raised to its former glory.

Titus and Lucius both had to stop for a moment to allow the heated sparks from overhead cabling to fall down in front of them before continuing on.

Well… no one said it wouldn’t take time. The presumed time to bring the _Phalanx_ back to complete combat operative capacity was somewhere in the timespan of a decade… in drydock and if all the materials and labour force was available…

So… the repairs were proceeding at quite a slow pace, and the ancient starfort was forced to remain anchored above Macragge.

Thankfully, the Fabricator General had sent in some of his own hand picked priests to aid in the retrofitting of the _Phalanx_. The two men were wary about them, since madness seemed to be a… common trait among those that the Fabricator General called his personal followers.

As they went along, they nodded at some of the Marines, who in turn nodded back. It was hard to distinguish the Imperial Fists from each other, especially since the vast majority kept their helmets on at all times. But there were subtle ways of seeing how one was different from another, how they moved, the way they responded. For example, they waved at a Techmarine who was currently welding something and was visible outside of one of the massive viewports of the hallway that they were in. Said Techmarine ignored them almost completely, continuing to focus on his work, other than waving back with a free mechadendrite, showing immediately that it was Techmarine Solen, Lord Friedrich’s personal Techmarine.

As for the location of Lord Friedrich himself… it was currently in the middle of the ship's night-cycle. And their Lord only slept exactly three hours a night, so…

Horus: “Wait, three hours a night? Even Astartes tend to sleep five or more. And even we do!”  
Jaghatai: “I too have yet to find a teenager who does not find the concept of a prolonged sleep… interesting.”  
Emperor: “ROGAL, WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM.”  
Rogal: “The Rogal of the future is the one you must ask this question to, as I have no connection with my future self to help explain the phenomena of my son sleeping only three hours a night.”

They turned a corner, went down a flight of stairs, took another right, took a left, kept walking straight for a few minutes, took a left and opened the bulkhead door and walked into Lord Friedrich’s personal gym.

Since it was the middle of the night, Lord Dorn was the only one of his personal squad, currently bench pressing an amount of weight that would make even a regular Space Marine blush even as marching music was playing gently on the vox-mitter systems.

They waited patiently for Lord Dorn to finish the set and put back the bar before they approached, causing their Lord to smile gently even as he greeted them in a warm voice. “Captains. I would ask if you had come to join me, but seeing as you are still in uniform, I shall take those reports now, I have just begun my five minute break.” 

“Of course my Lord.” Lucius bowed his head even as he handed over his pile.

“Of course you know this and have timed your arrival as such.” Friedrich replied, smiling wider still. “You two spoil me rotten, my adjutants.” He chuckled even as he opened one of the reports and took a swig of the massive shaker of exercise-stims. Little did Friedrich know, or perhaps he did, his two adjutants did actually time this just so, so they would not have to wait and could have an excuse to be lazy afterwards. He would allow them time to indulge, because once it was gym time... It was **_only_ **gym time.

Titus put his own pile of reports down next to the bench and the two adjutants stood in silence as was typical, Friedrich’s eyes tactically scanned _a lot_ of reports in quite a short amount of time before he suddenly shut closed one in the middle of it and layed back on the bench.

“Five minutes is over.” He explained un-necessarily even as he began to lift the heavy weighted bar, made of adamantium.

Vulkan: “I… admire his dedication?”  
Rogal: “Pride.”  
Horus: “Of course you are.”

Titus and Lucius took this as their cue, and began to make their way to the door even as it slammed open, revealing a rather disheveled looking Sister of Battle in plain clothing.

“Sister Tyrenia.” Lucius greeted. “What is the rush?” The Sister was rather recently added onto as an adjutant to Lord Friedrich’s growing general staff. 

She breathed in gulps, collecting herself. “Is-Is Lord Dorn here? I was told I could find him-” She breathed in deeply. “I have a report for- for his ears only.”

Lucius and Titus looked over their shoulders, where they could just about see their Lord past the rows of exercise equipment, still in the middle of his set.

“Uhm…” Titus began. “He is quite busy at the present time, it might be best if you give us the message and we will wait and deliver it to him at an opportune time-”

“I am sorry but I cannot.” She spoke even as she began pushing her way past them. “It is meant for his ears only, and I am perfectly capable of delivering a simple report from the Canoness.”

Titus and Lucius both sighed. The Sisters were stubborn and zealous to a fault, all the while taking every single opportunity to attempt and prove their worth. Losing Terra and the very being they worshipped as an eternally living and impossible to kill god, along with the mass majority of their Cardinal worlds proved a bit… soul crushing? A hammer of atheism straight to the skull? The loss of all their honour and trust? All of the above?

Jaghatai: “Ouf. Burn.”

Whatever the case, it caused the Sisters to attempt and prove that they were still worth the cost that it took to keep them around, so Tyrenia, being completely new to her post, pushed past them and headed directly for Lord Friedrich.

“My Lord Dorn, I am terribly sorry to… to…” She stared, jaw slackening as she took in the sight of perfectly carved flesh flexing and… She couldn’t stop her roaming eyes as he placed the bar back and began to sit up, his own words fading to the background as she couldn’t stop staring at those rock solid abs, those delicious pectorals, the way his tank top clung to every inch of his body, the sheen of sweat making his entire body glisten in just the right way. Just the sight of those arms waving in front of her face was enough to make her nearly turn to jelly as she imagined what it was like to touch them or just feel them for a bit. Then her eyes couldn’t stop watching how his legs tensed up a he stood up in front of her, watching as how the muscles themselves rolled and moved so perfectly-

Fulgrim: “Uhm… isn’t Friedrich ten?”  
Magnus: “I… don’t think she knows that.”  
Ferrus: “She’s going to be crushed and disgusted when she knows… I can’t wait.”  
Konrad: “Embrace the dark side, Ferrus.”

Suddenly, her thoughts were derailed as Titus and Lucius both stepped in front of her. “Excuse the interruption my Lord, but Sister Tyrenia has a report for you that is marked urgent and for your ears only.”

Friedrich nodded and looked past the two at the Sister, causing her to compose herself just enough to deliver her message, making Friedrich’s face twist into one of deep thought.

“An interesting development.” He finally stated after a moment of thought. “Go to the bridge and call upon my father for me. The matter of this report requires the utmost urgency and swiftest of responses.” 

“Yes my Lord.” Titus and Lucius both sounded off.

“Go. I shall meet you there… after I finish this set.” Then he layed back and got to work, even as Titus and Lucius escorted a still bedazzled Sister Tyrenia out of the door.

Horus: “Definitely dedicated.”  
Rogal: “Admiration.”  
Perturabo: “Ohhh, shut it.”

“That…” She mumbled. “Those… they- they are…”

Lucius sighed. “Yes, Lord Dorn tends to have that effect on most people the first time they meet him in that state.”

“But-but wow…”

“Did not expect him to be like that?” Titus inquired with a chuckle, even as they walked towards the bridge.

“No… it’s just… I didn’t think I liked men. In fact… I didn’t think I liked anything in that manner…”

“That’s the other effect. But may I suggest that you keep your thoughts pure Sister? He’s a minor.”

“He’s _what!?”_ The look on her face was priceless.

“And that’s the third effect. Cycle complete.”

Ferrus: “Called it.”

**...**

Rogal Dorn listened patiently as both Titus and Lucius made their report to him on the bridge of the _Phalanx_. His return from the planet below had been as swift as possible and his mind already appeared to be working on a solution to this conundrum.

“Friedrich told you to report this to me?” He asked in his trademark, deep voice even as his mechanical right hand smoothed his moustache.

“Yes, my Lord.” Lucius answered immediately. When they first met the Primarch close to three years ago, they found their nerves absolutely destroyed by the sheer awe and terror they felt in the Praetorian’s towering presence. Over the years they had found out that the Primarch was surprisingly simple and easy to deal with if you were just that… easy and simple, straight to the point with no mincing of words or hesitations.

“And where is Friedrich now?”

“Here, father.” Friedrich spoke up from the doors which had just opened, even as he walked closer at a fast pace, now clad in a black, yellow and white uniform, his short cut hair still wet from the shower he had most likely taken to rinse off the sweat of his intense exercise.

“Perhaps you would like to tell me how you had come by this intel that your two adjutants have just reported to me.” Dorn asked even as Friedrich came to a stop by his side. 

“While it was my adjutatants that reported it to me father, it was my other adjutant, specifically the one to the Sisters of Battle who had reported it to them and then, they to me. And now to you.”

The look on Rogal’s face showed how much he really appreciated that little line of convolution. However, he let it slide and continued. “And where is this Sister now?”

Friedrich looked at Titus and Lucius, who in turn pointed behind them at a Sister of Battle who was dressed in plain clothing and was obviously attempting to stop herself from over-reacting to the Primarch’s presence.

It did not help one bit that Rogal Dorn took this moment to wave her over, causing her legs to almost turn to mush even as she walked forward, feeling as if she was on autopilot.

When she finally reached his side, Rogal spoke. “Who, are you?”

She gulped. “Sister Tyrenia of the Order of the Ebon Chalice, at your service my Lord.”

“You’re a long way from your convent, Sister. Tell me, where and how is it that you came upon this report?”

“I-I was ordered to convey it’s contents to your Lord Son by the orders of Canoness Valina. She believed that they ranked high enough in importance that the knowledge needed to be conveyed to an official of higher standing as soon as possible.”

Rogal Dorn looked down at her with stern eyes and a face that looked to be made of stone, as was typical of him. All of this, combined with the Primarch’s very presence along with her experience from earlier made Tyrenia a little nervous… to say the least.

“You have performed your task well in that case Sister, and so too has your Canoness.”

She breathed a sigh of relief and felt the tension leave her shoulders as Rogal turned his attention to his son.

“Are you up to the task of this… unusual challenge my son? I realize that the prospect of a planet and it’s two moons heading directly for us is strange, but it may prove interesting.”

Sanguinius: “What!? Wait- wait wait wait, planet and two moons… is it… _is it Vyn?”  
_ Roboute: “Nooo… No, there is no way… no _possible way to move an entire planet_. What is even fucking happening?”  
Magnus: “Warp fuckery.”  
Roboute: “Fuck you, no! Explain!”  
Jaghatai: “No, I agree. Warp fuckery.”  
Roboute: “How dare all of you.”

“An interesting phenomena indeed father, I agree.” Friedrich noded. “But how shall we stop it? At the rate it is going, it threatens to clash with one of the inhabited worlds within the Imperium Secundus.”

“By pure force if you must.” Rogal commanded. “If it is inhabited by humans useful to the Imperium, attempt evacuation if you have the time and resources. But if you do not or it is a dead rock, you shall have to destroy it and knock the remains off course.”

Friedrich bowed his head. “As you command father.”

“You will have the Battle Barge, _Iron Will_ under your command along with two smaller escorts. In addition to this, the Battle Barge is armed with Exterminatus class weaponry, more than enough to crack the planet into manageable chunks. Use it as you see fit.”

“With your leave, father.”

Rogal simply waved him off and moved to look out of the viewport. And just as Titus and Lucius began to walk away… a hand clasped both of their shoulders.

“My two favourite adjutants.” Friedrich spoke behind them. “Let us go see what bothers this Imperium.”

...they should have known they wouldn’t get to escape this situation and get a good breakfast in the Officers Mess down on Macragge...

Horus: “The luck of Roboute’s favorite guardsmen is astounding. It’s as if it's on a pendulum.”  
Roboute: “Frak you.”

And sure enough, a few hours later, that’s how they found themselves on board the _Iron Will,_ bearing galactic south-east through the warp, strapping on flak armour over their officer battle fatigues and making sure their power swords still worked along with their laspistols. 

After they finished with their tedious tasks, they made their way to the mess where most of the other human staff spent their time and got in line with their trays, got the tasteless gray bars of nutrients deposited on them and took the largest cups of recaff they could get their hands on and chugged it all down.

“You know, this reminds me of-” Titus was immediately cut off by Lucius loudly groaning.

“No. Do not mention it. It was forever ago and we will never experience that type of forced march ever again.”

“That’s what the Centurion promised. But then remember-”

“Nope. Not talking about this. Besides, we never got this high in rank structure in… ever to be honest.”

“Yeah.” Titus sighed and looked at the chronometer on the wall. “We should get going. Lord Friedrich will be expecting us to join him on the bridge.”

Emperor: “THAT’S IT! THAT’S WHERE I REMEMBER THEM FROM! TITUS PULLO AND LUCIUS VORENUS FROM THE 13TH LEGION! I HAVEN’T SEEN THEM SINCE I GOT STABBED IN THE SENATE! WOW, IF THEY WERE THERE FOR THE CROSSING OF THE RUBICON, THEN THEY HAVE TO BE PERPETUALS!”  
Guilliman: “Are you fucking serious.”  
Emperor: “YES! IT ALL MAKES SENSE NOW, THAT’S WHY THEY LOOKED SO FAMILIAR AND HAVE THE LUCK OF UNTOLD THOUSANDS. NOW THAT I RECALL, THEY WERE BORN ON MACRAGGE, SO THEY MUST BE THE TYPE TO DIE AND BE REBORN WITH THEIR MEMORIES AND EXPERIENCES INTACT. WOW, HOW AMAZING IT IS THAT I NEVER KNEW ABOUT THEM AND THAT THEY KEPT FINDING EACH OTHER. REMARKABLE.”  
Fulgrim: “Hold on, they have been alive for how long?”  
Emperor: “ABOUT 42 THOUSAND YEARS AT THIS POINT. AND NOT REALLY ALIVE, JUST AWARE.”  
Fulgrim: “Okay- Okay fine. They have been aware and remember their lives for 42 thousand years, been in a constant cycle of death and rebirth and somehow find their way to each other every time they come back?”  
Emperor: “YUP. FROM EVERYTHING I REMEMBER ABOUT THESE TWO DURING THE VIDS, THAT’S HOW IT GOES.”  
Ferrus: “They actually wanted to stay with each other for that long? They never got bored?”  
Horus: “Is it possible to want to be around one person for that long? Never getting bored of them or wanting to leave?”  
Emperor: “YES. YES IT IS POSSIBLE. IT IS POSSIBLE TO WANT TO BE AROUND SOMEONE FOR THAT LONG AND NEVER GET TIRED OF THEM. I’VE DONE IT BEFORE AND IT WORKED OUT FINE.”  
Konrad: “Really. Yeah, your relationship with Malcador is fantastic.”  
Emperor: “HELL YEAH IT IS.”  
*Silence*  
Emperor: “OKAY SO THERE ARE SOME KINKS IN THE RELATIONSHIP.”  
Fulgrim: “At least it’s with a close male friend. I can’t even begin to imagine how horrible it would be to have to run around with a female perpetual for thousands of years. Or worse. Being married to one for that long.”  
Emperor: “OKAY, MAYBE YOU NEED TO STOP.”  
Magnus: “Aeldari live for a long time, so I can kind of understand. If the Aeldari can stand to be around someone for so long, I think we could do it just fine.”  
Emperor: “EXACTLY! IT’S POSSIBLE TO LIVE WITH AND NOT GET TIRED OF YOUR PERPETUAL PARTNER. I DID IT JUST FINE UNTIL I HAD TO LEAVE HER ON MOLECH-”  
Horus: “Wait- her?”  
Emperor: “YOU HEARD NOTHING.”  
Sanguinius: “You said her.”  
Jaghatai: “I heard it too.”  
Konrad: “So did I.”  
Mortarion: “So did I.”  
Horus: “Father, who is her? Is she that Liv person you called me during our-”  
Emperor: “IMPERIAL DECREE, NO ONE IS ALLOWED TO TALK ABOUT THIS. NO ONE. ABSOLUTELY NO ONE AND I REFUSE TO HEAR ANOTHER SECOND OF THIS.”  
Horus: “Oh come on! You can’t just shut down questions about something just because you’re uncomfortable!”  
Emperor: “WATCH ME. WHOEVER MENTIONS THIS ONE MORE TIME GOES ON A PENANCE CRUSADE. **UNDERSTAND**?”  
*Muttered agreement*  
Corvus: “An abomination on all family values…”

Lucius nodded and chugged down what little remained of his sterile tasting recaff, no doubt because of the onboard water used to brew the thing. Then the two got up and marched towards the bridge.

Friedrich awaited for them there, already armoured in his battle plate, having been sized up to fit his growing stature. Unlike years before when the armour was completely barren save the basic colour scheme of the Imperial Fists, it now possessed the small honours shield upon Friedrich right pauldron, displaying the small amount of various honours he had earned. A small addition, but a start nonetheless. 

“The navigator reports we are some minutes away from our destination, my Lord.” Friedrich’s new and temporary equerry reported to him. A mere sergeant compared to Calder who was a Captain. But he would do for the time being. 

“Very good, Sergeant.” Friedrich nodded. “Make sure that an Overlord is ready to carry my squad and I in case the planet requires closer investigation.” 

The Marine saluted and marched off without another word, even as Titus and Lucius took his place, being greeted by a smile from Friedrich. “And how are my two adjutants doing on the beginning of such a fine cycle?”

“Better than before, my lord.” Titus answered, though his mind was stuck thinking about the Macraggian Officer’s Mess and what wonderful food he just missed. “At least our stomachs aren’t rumbling any longer.”

“What I wouldn’t do for a nice grox steak, though…” Lucius couldn’t help but imagine that blessed meat. Nice and tender, not too cooked but not too raw, just right… A nice char with just the right amount of spice… If he could have a baked potato on the side with that, he would have died from how happy he would have been...

Friedrich chuckled at that. “You two, so happy after the simplest of pleasures, such a nice breath of fresh air to see baselines of such standards.” He mused even as he patted each of them on the shoulders. 

“My Lord, you must understand. Have you never tasted something as delectable as a nicely grilled grox steak?” Titus asked, now he was hungry for some grilled meat as well.

Leman: “Bastards are makin’ me hungry.”  
Magnus: “Want to grab lunch after this?”  
Leman: “Fuck yes. How long is this damned thing?”  
Konrad: “Too long.”  
Horus: “Too long indeed, anyone else having an issue of concentrating? Being hungry doesn’t help either to be honest.”  
Jaghatai: *Rolls eyes* “Acting like pampered ladies… but I too could eat.”  
Emperor: “LATER, WE’RE ALMOST DONE.”  
Horus: “Finally.”

“No. My Father makes sure that all meats I am given are cooked completely through, as to make sure I would not suffer any toxins that may impact my physique.” Friedrich was confused now, why did they make such pained expressions? Did he pat them too hard again?

Leman: “Yer feedin yer kid well done steak!?”  
Rogal: “...how could I do such a horrible thing to my own son…?”

“Far be it from us to judge your father’s taste my lord.” Lucius carefully ventured forward. “But at one point allow us to treat you to a proper meal. It is uh.. Good for the soul.”

“I am not a psyker.”

“Just- Just trust us, my lord. It goes far beyond that.”

Friedrich tilted his head in amusement. “So be it-”

“My Lord, sorry to interrupt, but we're-entering the matterium in t-minus twenty.” The helmsman reported, causing everyone to either grab on to something or sit down to brace for exit even as the voice announcing said exit went out on the vox-mitter system.

A moment later, the ship shuddered heavily and was spat out, the massive steel blinds that covered the viewports beginning to lift and reveal their surroundings, bathing the bridge in a slightly orange hue from a nearby star.

Not even a minute later, after the post-warp checks and vox checks for their two escorts were complete, the sensorium officer waved off. “Sir, planet and it’s two moons detected, directly as reported.” He sounded completely unsure.

“Good.” Friedrich walked closer. “What do the scans say?”

“Inhabited my Lord… quite densely at that, I’d say maybe two hundred million souls?” He then added softly to himself, “I don’t even know how, this goes against any and all real space dynamics that I understand…”

Magnus: “Definitely warp fuckery.”

“If I may, my Lord.” It was Friedrich’s equerry. “I have seen… stranger things happen.”

Friedrich hummed at that. “I have read of stranger things as well. Not the most unlikely of things that a planet can get knocked out of stable orbit… but multiple… interesting.”

“What are your orders my Lord?” The ship captain came by and asked. “Are we to proceed with the demolition?”

“No. Not yet at least, I wish to take a closer look. That many souls may yet prove valuable.” Without another word he turned and began walking for the hangar bay, Titus and Lucius following begrudgingly, knowing that he would never let them stay behind in order not to experience something so… _exciting._

“Please, don’t…”

“He’s gonna…”

“My lord, please just-”

“Do you two have any idea how exciting this is?” Friedrich was grinning, already thinking of his battle plan. “I wonder how the people are alive down there, do you think there is a type of archaeotech keeping them alive? Or how about a warp artifact? Just thinking about such an anomaly is just-”

“My lord, please. Calm down, we’re going to go down soon enough.”

“He lasted five seconds this time.”

“Do not jinx it, or else he’s just going to drop pod assault down there himself.”

“A record.” A deep voice rumbled from behind them. “I believe he is trying harder.” The figure soon joined them on the side, revealing the massive form of Techmarine Solen. Said Techmarine was wishing he was back on the _Phalanx_ doing his duty of caring for the grand old lady… But he didn’t want to lose the chance to stop Friedrich from getting too excited about _throwing himself onto a speeding planet_.

Vulkan: “He is just like a little excitable canid.”  
Rogal: “He is the most adorable of boys.”  
Vulkan: “Don’t you mean… Adornable?”  
Rogal: “Yes.”

Lucius and Titus both groaned. “At least we managed to convince Sister Tyrenia to stay behind.” It would have been torture to have to baby sit an aroused Sister and do their job at the same time.

“Indeed.” Another voice joined in, this time it was Kirch, yet another of Friedrich’s general staff. “I cannot stand those zealots.”

Titus and Lucius stared, with the former pointing out the obvious to them. “Uhm.. but you are a Chaplain Kirch.”

Kirch’s skull-like faceplate turned to look down at the two. “I fail to see the crux of your argument.” 

Lucius sighed, “Simply stating that you are of the more… zealous of your brotherhood.” He started diplomatically, but stopped when he saw how Kirch was practically standing above him now.

“And?” Kirch asked with a head now titled in amusement. “I am not of the Black Templars, thus I fail to see your point.”

Lucius sighed, deeper this time. “Stopping now.”

“A wise decision.” Apothecary Oskar pointed out, checking his equipment once more. “You would sooner cause yourself a brain aneurysm than successfully reason with Kirch.” He couldn’t stop a smirk from blooming on his face as Kirch made a derisive sound from the inside of his helmet.

Magnus: “Sounds like a certain primarch…”

Mortarion: “Oh shut up so we can get through this already. Even _I’m_ hungry now.”

“Do not remind me Brother Oskar.” Epistolary Widerholend added in. “Last I tried, I found that Brother Kirch has the foresight of an ork.”

“I would take offence to that brother, but then I am reminded of the Cypra landings.” Kirch lectured back.

“The ork was mine.” Widerholend reasoned, even as they boarded the Overlord that had been waiting for them. “I would have punched clean through his skull.”

“Aye, however you were too busy recalling that story of how you became an Epistolary and after something inside of you cracked during your reviewing of the texts as a Codicier.”

“Ah.” Widerholend smiled, it positively radiating beneath his psychic hood. “A wonderful tale. All began with me reading a liber of the forbidden arts of-”

“Did you have to get him started Kirch?” Oskar groaned. “It is the hour long version as well.” 

“I wouldn’t worry too much, my brothers.” Sergeant Laynar, Friedrich’s current equerry and standard bearer, attempted to calm them. “A few shots from the natives and he will be back to his old self.”

They all took their seats even as the engines began to cycle and the boarding ramp closed.

**...**

_I hate having to do guard duty._ Gorm wished he could be literally anywhere else in the castle. Preferably somewhere with a lot of traffic from the locals… It would make his days go by a lot faster if he could chat up some beautiful ladies...

Not that he could do much with them! He still thought it was a terrible punishment… Not his fault that he was so lovable.

Well, doing guard duty wasn’t so bad after all. Glorified guard duty actually, since he wasn’t training recruits at the moment. If only Tarkus was here so he could at least have someone to annoy to pass the time. Or perhaps he could take a shift in the fields to kill some time as well…

He paused as he looked out of the castle, the skies looked different today. Almost felt as if someone was watching them…

Should he go and check on Isha? She would know if something is out there, in case the legion had to mobilize. Perhaps he could see about getting Tarkus from the town?

No, there was no reason to get Tarkus at the moment, nothing had happened. Perhaps he was itching for anything to happen, starting to get paranoid.

Well, he rounded the walls for what must have been the umpteenth time, but yet, his mind itched at him. Why? Why was it telling him to go check on the goddess?

Sanguinius: “Wait… the background!”  
Guilliman: “What of it?”  
Sanguinius: “It’s… it’s the same as before! This is Reeve!”  
Rogal: “They have managed to build a castle of impressive size within three decades with only feudal technology. Impressive. Most Impressive.”  
Sanguinius: “Fuck that! Do you have any idea how much we must have missed!?”  
Guilliman: “Probably quite a lot… don’t mind much truth be told, even I’m hungry now.”

After attempting to reason with his own mind for a few moments, he finally gave up and decided to simply give in and go check, going down the massive staircase leading from the internal walls and into the depths of the castle, where Isha rested and moved Vyn through space via meditation.

But surprisingly enough, not only did he not find her in her typical meditative pose in the middle of her circular shaped room, he found her standing by the door.

“Good, you have heard the summons.” She spoke in a tone tinged with fear. “You must find my consort and Captain Tarkus.”

“I- uhm I understand my lady. But.. but why?”

“Tarkus is the only one who will reach us in time, Mortarion will never be able to.” She breathed deeper, her eyes wide with fear.

“But, what is the rush my lady?”

She looked up at him, those gentle eyes showing the true nature of her visions. “We are about to have visitors. Of your kind.”

He quickly nodded and sprinted to find Tarkus and his Primarch. The day had come, the day they all knew was coming. Time for peace has ended and now, they are going to be judged…

He wondered how the little ones were going to take this change?

The castle turned into a blur, he moved past countless servants with a gust of wind behind him, causing many to shriek from the force. He wanted to apologize, but knew it had to be another time. Think, think, think… Tarkus should be in town, his Primarch… Ah, where would he be right now!?

From the castle and into Reeve city, he stopped on the overlook to quickly scan the area for Captain Tarkus.

No, not in the shopping district… Not the craft’s district… Definitely not the residential- The park!

When Gorm had made a beeline for the park, which may or may not have included him vaulting over smaller buildings and people alike, he had to calm himself down. Would not do to frighten the children after all.

“-do not play so close to the pond. I know most of you can’t swim.” The Captain called out to the large group of children who were enjoying their day at the park. He was content to lie on the ground under a great tree, enjoy the air and keep watch over the little gremlins. “I swear, I tell them not to do something yet they still try to do so anyway…”

A group of little girls, all around the age of six or seven crowded around Tarkus. “Lord Tarkus, this is for you.” They were quick to pile on flowers onto the lying marine, causing him to smile softly at them. “To make you feel better.”

Mortarion: “Has… has my Captain been reduced to being a glorified babysitter?”  
Vulkan: “I think it is cute.”  
Konrad: “Funny.”

“I thank you for the generous gift. It certainly helps.” He watched them giggle as they left him again, joining the boys who were busy play fighting like they were Astartes. He did pick up one of the picked blooms, twirling it between his fingers. The children really did like throwing gifts onto him whenever he lied here. He did look up when he heard one of the children let out a cry, which made him scowl as he looked over to them again, “if one of you pulls others hair again I’ll personally get up and see about all of you serving a shift in the fields! I’m watching you Reynor!”

“Yes sir…” The children quieted down, making Tarkus lean back and try to enjoy his time again.

Gorm approached his captain, who waved a hand at him. “Gorm, please, I want a moment. Can you not at least give me that?”

“I don’t think the Imperium would grant that request.”

Tarkus was quick to sit up, looking towards Gorm. “Are they here?”

“According to Lady Isha, yes.”

Tarkus looked back in shock, but stood quickly, his fine robes billowing around him as he wordlessly took off for the castle, Gorm following behind with ease.

“Have you spotted anything yet?”

“Nothing.” Gorm reported, frustrated. “Lady Isha most likely couldn’t see further, moving the planet appears to have tired her immensely.”

Guilliman: “So it is them!”  
Magnus: “Told you it was warp fuckery.”

Tarkus swore even as they reached the main entrance to the castle, the guards immediately making way as the two Astartes ran up to the tallest tower of the castle, climbing stairs which would take a baseline human nearly ten standard minutes to climb in merely a fraction of that.

Everyone called it the Astronomy tower, since it was built for that sole purpose some years ago now. It had taken quite a while, but the massive telescope on top should provide enough for the two marines to be able to peer into the sky.

“It’s almost midday. Factoring in the direction Vyn is heading along with when Lady Isha sensed them…” Tarkus murmured to himself, even as he re-directed the telescope, the baselines surrounding them looking at the two Marines in confusion.

“There.” Tarkus breathed out. “I see something.”

“What?” Gorm asked, his impatience showing.

“I think it’s a… a… Battle Barge.” Tarkus sighed and backed away from the telescope to look at Gorm. “This isn’t good, if there is one of those then…”

“That’s a lot of Marines. Far too many to take on.”

Tarkus nodded and looked at one of the closest baselines. “You.” He pointed at one. “Find a way to summon Lord Mortarion, tell him… The Imperium has come, he will know what it means.”

The baseline stuttered out a positive and quickly ran from the tower even as the rest stared at the two Marines.

“Give us the room if you please.” Tarkus asked kindly and the baselines began to shuffle out of the room even as Tarkus peered through the telescope yet again, sighing this time. “I see… something coming closer.”

“Multiples?”

“No… looks like… a transport. Hold on, it’s getting closer.” As it did so, the image continued to get sharper and sharper, until… “Space Marines. It’s Space Marines confirmed.” He backed out and sat down on a chair, creaking in protest over the Captain's heavy weight. “Imperial Fists to top it off.”

“Shit. Do you believe they still hold a grudge?”

Rogal: “Yes.”  
Horus: “When even Rogal himself admits it, then you know that they are stubborn.”

“Have you forgotten how the Imperial Fists act, or is your brain addled due to how many times I had to drag you out of a tavern?”

“No need to bite my head off. What’s our plan of action?”

“Delay.” Tarkus breathed out. “It’s just about the only thing we can do at the moment, only Lord Mortarion has any hope of convincing them one bit. If he pleads our case in front of Lord Guilliman or even the Emperor perhaps… I see that as the only chance we have to live further.”

Emperor: “WAIT. THEY DON’T EVEN KNOW I’M DEAD?”  
Horus: “Father… just… let it go, no one cares at this point.”

Gorm nodded, before smiling sadly. “Hey, if it doesn’t work out, wasn’t a bad three decades.”

“No.” Tarkus relented, knowing that it was time. “No it wasn’t.” He steeled himself, “Come. They would be heading towards the largest structure on the planet, so we might as well meet them before any of the servants push us deeper into hell.”

Gorm nodded and the two proceeded to run down the tower, through the length of the massive castle and through the massive, main gate and out onto the clearing in front of the castle, left empty save for the main road in case of siege. 

And then… they waited.

It wasn’t long before their retinue came running. The squires assigned to them and the other various working organisms of their station. None however were fellow Astartes, those were currently all across Vyn, maintaining the peace.

Peace… what a fickle thing. So fickle that it was broken as easily as seeing the massive form of a gunship transport coming down and into the atmosphere. Its engines whined with the roar of a demigryph, its size was bigger than the homes most people of the world could ever hope to afford.

This massive, flying machine came through the sky, flying low above the city and sending the civilians fleeing for the safety of their homes, the disbelief of what they were seeing being too much for most.

But not for the squires by Gorm and Tarkus’ side. They stood there in their baseline, teenage forms. Shivering down to the bone in fear of what they were seeing in front of them, all the while asking countless questions which they received no answers to.

And yet, they stayed, loyal to a fault, even if it meant facing what they would no doubt think were the representatives of the gods.

Slowly, the transport came to a hovering halt in front of them, and after a moment of hesitation, began its landing procedures, extending its massive landing gears even as the pitch of the engines dulled and the craft landed upon the flagstones in front of them.

Tarkus closed his eyes, swallowed his accumulating, bitter spit and breathed out. “Let me do the talking.” He told Gorm. “Just stay quiet and delay until Lord Mortarion returns.”

“How long do we delay then?” Gorm softly asked, doing his best to not freak the baselines out.

Tarkus sighed. “I have no idea. Hopefully someone will have found Lord Mortarion already, or he has felt the presence of our guests.”

The ramp of the transport began to drop with a low hiss of hydraulics, continuing to do so, until it hit the flagstones with a dull thud.

Its occupants did not wait longer than that to disembark. From the dark inside of the craft emerged one of the biggest Imperial Fists that Tarkus could ever recall seeing outside of Terminator armour. He was followed by another Fist who wore a skull mask and carried a crozius - a chaplain, an apothecary, an epistolary, a techmarine, a Fist of some veterancy who carried the squads banner - a device which Tarkus did not personally recognize, and two Guardsmen. 

The Marine who led the formation marched swift and quick, the echoes from his armoured feet hitting the ground, echoing across the open field.

More out of instinct than proper greeting, Tarkus slammed a closed fist across his left pectoral, a greeting of ancient Legionaries, a greeting which he hoped would at least set the Imperial Fists a bit more at ease.

Instead, all it seemed to cause was more tension as suddenly, the entire squad came to a halt.

“You are Astartes.” The largest one stated plainly. “Only Astartes use that greeting.” He stood tall and proud, almost as if he was sizing up Tarkus and Gorm, both of whom were quick to stand up straighter.

“We are, yes.” Tarkus nodded to the tallest one, “I am Tarkus, and my battle brother, Gorm.”

“I do not recall asking for your names. What is the chapter you serve.” The tallest one again spoke, quick to cut down their chatter.

 _I was hoping I could get more small talk in_ … Tarkus had to think fast. They no longer were Death Guard, it would be suicide to say such a thing. Perhaps Dusk Raider? They used that moniker during their conquest of Vyn… “You would not have heard of us. We are of the second founding.”

They felt as if their very beings were suddenly stripped down as the Marine appeared to strip them down to their very souls. Perhaps the leader did not know enough of the second founding? Certainly many Imperials alive would have forgotten-

“What Legion was your Chapter founded from?”

 _Shit_. “It is unknown. There used to be many of us thousands of years ago, but after our terrible run through the warp, we are but six hundred left.” The truth worked… mostly.

“How much, is many?”

“There was…” How many were in a chapter again? He was going to answer, when the Marine cut into the conversation turned interrogation.

“Your hesitation is answer enough. I ask again, what Legion was your Chapter founded from?”

He let out a deep sigh, this Marine was sharper than he thought. If his Primarch still was not here, then he could only do so much before they had to… “I shall come clean then. We are from the XIV-”

Faster than Tarkus’ trained eye could see, the Marine’s hand went to his belt and drew a bolt pistol before quickly pointing it square at his head. How!? How was a Marine this fas-

“You are traitors.” The Marine stated plainly even as the Chaplain behind said Marine appeared to be getting more and more tense as his grip on his crozius tightened.

The words his own Primarch spoke during the Fiefland Confederation echoed in his mind. Back when they had finally achieved peace with the Toscians, “We are not monsters, we are the servants to humanity.” He spoke back, thinking back to that day when their lives truly had changed. He continued to look straight forward towards the tallest Marine, “We are working to repay our debt to humanity, to find redemption.”

“The lies of a traitor!” The Chaplain suddenly roared, pointing his Crozius towards Tarkus. “Is that what you and your traitorous kin spewed forth from your mouths as you tread upon Terra and crushed into our walls traitor?” The Chaplain’s reply stung, but Tarkus took it with grace and nobility. “Here you stand, lying to us, when your very existence and the fact that you still draw breath is an affront to humanity.”

“We are seeking the same redemption that the Emperor himself bestowed to us!” Tarkus shot back, “He has cleansed us, he has guided us back and now we work to uplift and help humanity!” Gorm next to him was faltering, but remained standing, especially for the baselines.

“You seek absolution in the eyes of the Lex and the Emperor?” The head Marine asked, confusion seeping into his tone of anger. “To pay for your crimes?”

“Yes. We seek to redeem ourselves and work for the betterment of humanity, to help the weak and work to one day repay all of our sins. The Emperor has given us his blessing, and we shall not waste it.” He held his head high, unwilling to look away.

The Marine’s head swayed in the direction of the epistolary, who in return nodded. “They speak the truth… somehow, I sense no lies.”

“Uhm, pardon us my Lord.” It was one of the Guardsmen. “But if they seek arbitration by the wronged, then surely that can be arranged peacefully, no?”

“Exactly!” One of the squires spoke up, causing Tarkus to shoot a glance at them. He hoped they weren’t going to say anything that is going to- “Besides! Captain Tarkus and the rest of them are good people! They helped us stop all of the wars, they unified our home and built so many things for us! They’re not bad people!” Yup. He most likely said something to piss the Imperial Fists off.

“Captain Tarkus.” The head Marine spoke, with the flattest sounding voice possible even as the Techmarine behind him appeared to be doing something on a data-slate. “Legiones Astartes XIV, Designation code A-1293, Sired upon ancient Albia and raised by the Emperor’s own word.” Now malice began to sliver into the Marines voice. “Once reunited with his Primarch shortly after assigned to the Legion’s Honour Guard, the Deathshroud as Captain, from which he served his Primarch without a single word.”

Faltering ever so slightly, Tarkus went pale as the realization hit him. They still had records on him, his brothers. Of course they would, why wouldn’t they? Had peace made him forget the truth that the Imperium would never have fully destroyed the evidence that they existed?

“Thereafter, followed his Primarch into every combat engagement ordered to him. Most notable being the fight against the Primarch Jaghatai Khan upon Prospero, the participation in the Battle of Istvaan, also known as the Istvaan _massacre_ .” The Marine took a breath, anger now being obvious in his tone. “And the first assault of the XIV legion upon the walls of the _Imperial Palace on Terra…_ ”

“That was-”

“The last assault of which included the _murder_ of countless civilians, the poisoning of Terra’s atmosphere and the causation of so many war crimes that…” The Marine trailed off, his breath sounding as if it was that of a raging animal. “No, child, this Astartes is no ‘good’ individual. He is a traitor, murder and war criminal.”

Horus: “Well… well told at least.”  
Guilliman: “A condemnation of a man by his own actions if I ever heard one.”  
Lion: “A wrong does not correct a good, and neither does a right correct a wrong. Their past still haunts them.” 

“C-Captain Tarkus…?” The squire asked, looking towards the Astartes who bowed his head. “That’s not true, is it?”

He didn’t want to say so. He wanted a second chance, he had no choice but to do as was commanded! But that wasn’t fully true, was it? He hated them for forcing him into silence, he hated them for always expecting the XIV to do the worst jobs imaginable. But he hated when he served Chaos, and how it broke him. He hated how they went from one master to another. He hated himself.

“Captain?”

He looked to the squire, and his face said it all. He watched as his own squire took a few steps back, confusion and horror painted on his youthful face. Tarkus could only look back to the Marine, speaking softly, “...we have so much to repay.”

“And they may do so.” It was the standard bearer. The one without a helmet and two bolts in his forehead. “As much as it disgusts me my Lord.” He spoke to the Marine. “You may grant them the rights of the Lex and the brother bonds of the ancient legions and let them be judged for their crimes rightly.”

“No one will blame you if you execute them on the spot either, my lord.” The Chaplain added in.

The Marine stood his ground for a moment, but slowly and surely, the pistol dropped and was holstered.

“You shall come with us to Macragge. There you will be judged for all of your crimes, past and present.”

“Macragge?” Tarkus sputtered, “What have the Ultramarines to judge us for?” He silently hoped they wouldn’t bring up the Plague Wars.

“Their grudges against you matter not, it being the current seat of Imperial governance does.” The Marine explained. “Now come.” He waved a hand and the rest of his squad began to move forward, binders in hand even as the two guardsmen stayed behind.

Before he could say anything else, the impact sound from next to their gathering was heard and felt. Beside them was the towering form of their Primarch, Mortarion, who was currently heaving as he straightened up, his massive pair of feathered wings trembling slightly from the exertion.

“Apologies, but I was on the other side of the planet.”

Sanguinius: “Good entrance again. Really taking a few pages out of my book eh?”  
Mortarion: “Don’t… ugh, fine, probably.”

The rest of the squad immediately drew and pointed their weapons at him, ready to fire at a moment's notice. Except…

The lead Marine. He was frozen in place, staring at Mortarion as if he were some god. “You are a Primarch.” He stated in a flat voice.

“Yes I am.” He straightened up fully, unlike any other Primarch the Marine had ever seen before. Robes and hood of fine silk, gleaming pieces of armor and artificed nicely with a vine motif throughout his wear. But it was the wings that made the Marine pause, he had only known of one Primarch who had white wings such as those, however… He was most assuredly dead. “I am primarch Mortarion of the Dusk Raiders, formerly known as the Death Guard. You are...?”

“I know who you are, _uncle_.” The Marine answered, even as his hands went for his helmet.

Mortarion felt something… off, with this Marine. He still had been unused to the powers he shared with Isha, so was unable to truly look upon the Marine with his ‘godly sight’. “Uncle? Not gene-uncle?”

“No.” The Marine answered flatly, even as the seals of his helmet hissed with the sounds of release.

“Wait a second-!” He knew that ‘no’ wasn’t from anywhere!

The helmet came off completely, revealing a face as solid as rockrete and hair as gold as flowing wheat. “I am Friedrich Dorn, blood son of Primarch Rogal Dorn, Primarchial heir of the Imperial Fists.” 

“Shit.”

“You have a lot of explaining to do uncle.” His stone cold blue eyes looked Mortarion up and down. “Of a great many things. Father will most be interested I am sure.”

“I’m sure he will.” Mortarion answered neutrally, then stopped as he then realised it. “Wait, what do you mean your Father?”

“My Lord,” Gorm spoke up, “we seem to have an audience.”

The Primarch looked around the transport to see that… ah, yes… the town had come to see what was happening...

“Perhaps we should move this into the castle?”

Mortarion simply looked at Friedrich.

“For the sake of easier conversation, I shall agree.” He turned to his retinue. “Captain’s Pullo and Vorenus with me, the rest of you, guard the _Falcon_.”

**…**

Friedrich walked about the throneroom at a diminished pace, the servos his master crafted, artificer power armour whining quietly as he did so even as his footsteps reverberated across the room from the marble floor.

“And thus… you escaped Nurgle and found yourselves marooned upon this world.”

Mortarion nodded from his throne.

“An… interesting story.” Friedrich let out a breath that he did not realize he was holding. “One full of miracles, constant twists, of tragedy of coincidences and luck of such a caliber that it almost appears unbelievable.”

“We know how it sounds, my Lord.” Tarkus added in. “But it is-”

“The truth.” Friedrich interrupted. “One that sounds as if written by scribes who struggled with ways to do it for an eternity if this was a novella, but a truthful story nonetheless.”

“Then what is to be our fate?” Mortarion asked.

“You are to come with us back to Macragge, that order stands unchanged. You are entitled to a trial, that much is true, judgement in front of the Primarchs to represent the ancient legions and the Guard…” Friedrich looked to Titus and Lucius who filled in the blanks.

“As, the Astra Militarum as of yet had not existed during the time of your original betrayal.” Lucius began. “It holds no right to challenge you to any and all crimes committed against the Imperial Army, and according to the edict of the Emperor’s Mercy, no individual can be tried or judged further then his original punishment or forgiveness for any crimes whatsoever once that individual has been sentenced if the trial was judged by an Imperial of High-Lord or higher, political stature.”

Titus next stepped in. “Thus making the worries over your other crimes in your time serving the traitorous side, null and void.”

Mortarion: “Woopty fucking doo… a happy ending.”  
Konrad: “What a twist.”

Friedrich smiled gently and bowed his head to his two adjutatants. 

“And I believe that forgiveness may just be the trial result.”

“What makes you say so?” Gorm butted in, not being able to hold himself back.

“The Imperium Secundus can not afford to not use good warriors, especially Astartes and a Primarch.” Friedrich noted sadly even as Gorm, Tarkus and Mortarion tensed visibly.

“Pardon my inquiry.” Mortarion voiced. “But did you just say, Imperium Secundus?”

“Yes.” Friedrich looked at them all, silence falling over them for a minute even as the Primechild’s mind quickly caught on. “Your escape… it was decades ago.”

“Yes.” Tarkus quickly answered.

“You… do not know the status of the Imperium? Of Terra? Mars? Segmentum Solar?” He asked himself more than them. Seeing that his uncle was not showing any awareness to the questions, Friedrich steeled himself and supplied the answers that Mortarion most likely never knew. “Terra is gone, it imploded upon itself, swallowing Luna, Mars and one third of the Segmentum Solar while doing so and creating the Eye of Despair.”

Sanguinius: “Lore!”  
Guilliman: “Writing it down!”  
Leman: “Bunch of archivists.”

“What-what of the Emperor?” Tarkus spoke, in shock.

“The Emperor is gone.” Friedrich informed them all. “The implosion killed him, and thus we entered the Silent Year, a year without the guidance of the Astronomicon. From what was recorded, it was a time of great strife, loss of worlds and the massive loss of countless Imperial citizens. Many thought it would be the end of humanity, that is, until the Astronomicon reemerged upon Macragge.”

Mortarion pondered over this information. The revelation that his Father was dead was one he had not been expecting. He could not find it in him to let out a whoop of joy or even a tear at the loss of his Father. Only quiet contemplation, but little care for the man who both dragged him to war and also gave him a second chance. What do you say about the death of someone whom you have both hated and struggled to love for so long? Only two words could sum up his complicated feelings on the matter, “I see.” More importantly, what had happened to the Imperium after his death, then?”

“The Imperium came out fractured, but still standing, if barely.” Friedrich sighed. “Loose ends needed to be tied quickly, sections which were undefendable and simply drained resources needed to be abandoned.” Friedrich appeared as if he was recalling a heavy memory. “A massive part of the Segmentum Tempestus and Obscurus proved neigh undefendable, the Space Wolves and Iron Hands being the last ones there, the latter of which lost contact sometime during the Silent Year. Segmentum Pacificus went completely quiet during the Year of Silence and hasn’t been heard from since. What precious little forces remained, slowly withdrew towards Macragge when the Astronomicon once more began to project, gathering there and forcing Lord Guilliman to announce the Imperium Secundus until further notice. There still are territories belonging to the Imperium who hold to this very day in the Ultima Segmentum, mostly thanks to the Treaty of Eden and the iron will of its defenders, however, most are now focused in the Imperium Secundus, which at the present time accommodates only some two thousand worlds.”

The Primarch nodded along to this, it made sense. The situation was dire, but could have been a lot worse. “What caused the Astronomicon to come back? And what of the Treaty of Eden? How did humanity pull itself back together?” Many more questions were swirling in his mind, but the most important three were at the forefront of his mind.

“As far as we are aware, the Astronomicon began to project once more upon the birth of Aegidius Guilliman. Son of Roboute Guilliman and Yvraine, the Prophet of Ynnead.”

“He’s actually a father…” Mortarion couldn’t help the moment of incredulity that passed upon him.

“The two’s union was in fact a founding part of the Treaty of Eden, which states that until further due notice or the extermination of one race, Human’s and Aeldari alike shall live together in peace and unity under an alliance and help each other in all manners, both menial and those of the greatest importance.”

“Truly?” The note of sarcasm couldn’t be stopped, even if he wanted to. Though, he wasn’t any better...

“According to Lord Guilliman. The treaty was made and signed under the order’s of the Emperor himself, even as his last order to the Adeptus Custodes was the evacuation of Terra and most of Sol. The treaty helped massively with the evacuation proceeding as planned and is, in fact, the main reason as to why the Imperium continues to function even with the loss of the Emperor and the throneworld.”

“But what do the Aeldari gain from all of this? Working with humanity, helping us during our time of need. What is their aim? Can we fully trust them?” How many times has he been betrayed and hurt by the xenos?

“Truth be told.” Friedrich began. “I do not know the details. But as far as I am aware. The Eldar are a dying race. With each passing year, another craftworld is possibly lost and another maiden world is destroyed.” He sighed. “They are outnumbered, falling, and a failing race. They needed safety above all else, even their pride.” Friedrich gestured with his hands. “The Imperium was and still is, capable of providing that. Even if trust is not fully there, from what little experience I hold, I have heard that that itself comes with the passing of time, from what I was able to observe, that time is not yet here but nor is it still far away. Humans and Eldar alike live on Macragge now in mostly non-segregated areas… mostly.”

Silence once more fell over the area until Lucius cleared his throat. “My lord.” He asked, looking at Friedrich. “May I?”

Friedrich nodded and Lucius began to speak again. “It is… not nearly as bad one might think. Captain Pullo and I here were born in squalor in the slums of Macragge Magnas Civitas.” He licked his lips nervously, trying not to think about the fact that a Primarch of legend was focused on him. “Then there was segregation, a massive black market, starvation and poverty for even the wealthy at times.” He smiled sadly even as he waved up Titus.

“That changed soon after Lord Dorn came. Long after me and Captain Vorenus joined the Guard.”

“Indeed, Lord Dorn using his superior knowledge of architecture and combined with Lord Guilliman’s and his consort’s knowledge of Aeldari culture, remolded Macragge Magnas Civitas into a living example of how a city where Aeldari and Humans both live can and does work.”

“The borders now being protected better and the Agri-worlds now supplying food at a steady flow because of so many new Marines and Guard helped too…” Titus added in hesitantly.

“But the point is.” Lucius took over again. “If I go to that very spot where I, and Captain Pullo used to live… I wouldn’t be capable of so much as recognising it. For it is gone. Aeldari and Human’s live and thrive with each other.” 

Mortarion: “I don’t know if I want to vomit or just plainly be insulted?”  
Konrad: “Oh… Oh… OHHHH…”  
Mortarion: “What?”  
Konrad: “Shhhh…”

Mortarion took a moment to think further on this. Aeldari and Humans living together. Great enemies in the past, now friends and allies… could they then forgive him and his sons too somehow? Well… only one way to find out.

“Tarkus, Gorm.” He called to his two Legionaries. “You two shall accompany me to Macragge along with your retinues while the rest stay and attempt to govern.”

Tarkus looked surprised. “Two Legionaries only, my Lord?”

“Ney.” Mortarion was quick to correct. “Three, because Gough just so happens to be hiding outside of the door.” He motioned to the side door which led into the guard room, which slowly creaked open as the Marine on the other side came clean. 

“Am I getting careless, my Primarch?” He asked with a coy grin.

“No. Not at all Gough, but let us just say that me prizing you for your accurate eye rather than a quiet step is a good thing for you.” Gough chuckled even as Mortarion stood and stepped forward, now looking at one of the squires by Tarkus’ side. “Run and inform Lady Isha that I shall be off-world until further notice… perhaps indefinitely.” He looked at Friedrich with a questioning look even as Friedrich returned it with all due honour and respect. The squire, meanwhile, bowed and ran off. “I believe that that is that.” Mortarion allowed himself a small smile. “Let us go.”

“Can I come too, Father?”

Emperor: “THE SHIT!? WHERE DID HE COME FROM?”  
Sanguinius: “I DON’T KNOW.”

Titus and Lucius let out a shared shriek, grabbing onto each other as they saw a young halfbreed boy standing near their group now. “What- Where did you come from?”

“My Father. And Mother too…” He spoke in a dreamy voice from down below, where his robed form reached not even to Mortarion’s knees. “May I come too then, Father?” He looked up at Mortarion, his big, green eyes staring past the small amount of black hair which adorned his head.

“Uhm, why Decius?” Mortarion asked, visibly confused.

The young halfbreed only grinned, a small innocent little grin as he spoke in a tone that matched idle chatter about the weather, “to meet him, of course.”

Mortarion: “I’m a FATHER!?”  
Konrad: “I didn’t know if I should warn you or not.”  
Mortarion: “I ACTUALLY FUCKED THE GODDESS WHAT THE FUCK-”

Mortarion sighed, even as the well made robes upon his son, which appeared a couple of sizes too big, shifted as Decius extended his arms up, his magical - red scarf continuing to wave about in air as if it was under water even as it covered his mouth. 

Mortarion reached down and picked up his son without hesitation, allowing him to settle on his massive left arm. “There will be a lot of politics. A lot of boredom. Macragge is most likely no place for children like you.”

“I will not be bored. I will have Aegidius.” Decius smiled beneath his scarf, his facial features revealing the boy's happiness. “And Him as well.”

“Is no one going to tell us where the child came from or…?” Lucius looked between the boy and Mortarion, then to Lord Friedrich then back to Titus and so on.

“You get used to it.” Tarkus explained. “Lord Mortarion and Lady Isha’s offspring are not exactly… baseline.”

Sanguinius: “Confirmed!”  
Mortarion: “-THIS IS ABSOLUTE BULLSHIT I CAN’T FUCKING BELIEVE THAT I WOULD SLEEP WITH A DAMNED XENO THIS HAS TO BE A PRANK-”

“Oh. Lovely.” Titus answered, looking towards the boy who made him feel very serene and calm… Actually, why was he so frightened of him in the first place? “Lovely. Shall we be headed out now?”

Friedrich watched the boy, he was unlike the other halfbreed. Peculiar. “Yes. We are go.”

They began walking towards the door they came through in the first place when Friedrich off-handedly mentioned. “Oh of course, silly me, I forgot.” He cleared his throat even as they continued walking. “If it is you who is moving the planet, you might wish to mention it to Lord Dorn and Lord Guilliman once we reach Macragge. Parking space near the new throneworld is at a premium these days.”

Rogal: *WHEEZE*  
Mortarion: “-THIS GOES AGAINST EVERYTHING I STAND FOR HOW FUCKING DARE THIS HAPPEN I WILL MURDER WHOEVER IT WAS WHO MADE THIS POSSIBLE-”

The Primarch stopped moving, staring at Friedrich intently. When Friedrich looked back, he could see the massive frown on his face. “That was not funny.”

Friedrich grinned, but never stopped. “No. I am hilarious.”

Titus and Lucius both sighed and grinned as they looked towards the Primarch and his retinue, their grins turning to sympathetic smiles. “You get used to it.” They whispered in the Primarch’s direction, causing Friedrich to smile even wider. 

The vid shut off, the screen blank as everyone watched Mortarion continue to rant about the situation, even as Konrad sighed and stood up.

“Come on, let’s just get some food.” Konrad grumbled as he pulled Mortarion up out of his throne, leading him away from the viewing room even as Mortarion kept ranting about the injustice of his pick in the future.

As they were leaving the viewing room, some serfs were coming in, carrying a tray of food meant for one of the hungry Primarch's. Mortarion was quick to swipe at the tray, causing it to fly and crash to the ground even as he and Konrad made their exit.

“Well… there goes my grox steak.” Horus grumbled even as the serf’s began picking up the discarded meal and broken dinerware.

“Apologies my lord.” One of the serfs was quick to speak. “We shall bring you another immediately.”

“NO NEED.” The Emperor said, even as he put a hand on Horus’ shoulder. “COME, JOIN ME IN MY DINING ROOM AND LET US HAVE LUNCH TOGETHER.”

Horus sighed. “Sure father.”

“OF COURSE, EVERYONE ELSE IS ALSO INVITE…”

The Emperor trailed off as he looked to the rest of the room, expecting to find his sons still sitting… only to find that they had all legged it.

“OH. NEVERMIND I SUPPOSE?”

“What do you expect? You’ve been a shithead the entire viewing.”

“HAVE I?”

“Ha. Good joke, you had me there… Wait, what?”

“WHAT?”

“You’re serious?”

“YES. I AM ASKING A SERIOUS QUESTION.”

Horus simply stared for a minute, stunned by his father’s placidity. Then slowly, with one of his hands he went to rub his eyes. “Do you have some of that good Macraggian vintage?”

“YES, OF COURSE, WHY?”

“Because we are going to need more than steaks for lunch where this is going.”


	16. Vindication

Horus slammed his head on the fine wooden table. Shaking his glass filled with a fine Macraggian red, the fourth one of this lunch.

“How am I meant to explain this to you?” He groaned in exasperation. “It is basic human logic.”

“AND BY THAT YOU MEAN WHAT EXACTLY HORUS?” The Emperor asked, taking the last bite of his Grox steak, now long since having grown cold due to the length of the lunch.

“I mean…” Horus trailed off, sighed, and took another sip of the wine. It was turning out to not only be the best part of the lunch, but a necessary one as well. “I mean you are constantly asserting your presence. Constantly having to control all of my brothers as if we are some errant servitors.” 

“SON.” The Emperor chuckled. “WE BOTH KNOW THAT I ONLY DO AS SUCH BECAUSE OF WHAT WOULD HAPPEN OTHERWISE.” The Emperor motioned with his hands. “I BELIEVE WE BOTH REMEMBER WHAT HAPPENED WHEN I LEFT AND AND KEPT NO EYE AT ALL ON MY SONS IN THE OTHER TIMELINE.”

Horus groaned again, downing the rest of his wine, even as a serf approached and refilled the glass. They were going into the third bottle by now. He had a point, especially when their Father left the viewing room for ten minutes and his brothers nearly tore into each other.

“You can’t just-” Horus began, stopping to swallow the rest of the excellent red liquid. “-you can’t just assert complete and utter control. There is a difference between a complete hands off and a complete hands on approach.”

The Emperor appeared to mull this over for a moment. One of his hands tapping on the table even as the serfs cleared away the plates.

“WHAT IS IT THAT YOU SUGGEST THEN?” He asked, feigning ignorance.

Horus took yet another sip of his wine. It was delicious, but it would never be enough to get him drunk. 

“You need to let us go father.” Horus reasoned. “Me, my brothers, you… all of us in a room for so long is not good for our mental health.” He rubbed his bald head, scratching an itch that wasn’t there. “We need more rest than just a day or two away from each other. There are no normal feelings anymore. There is no sense of comfort in it…” Horus made a waving motion with one of his hands. “We are needed elsewhere, not in some place where we will constantly bicker and fight. We can’t just solve the issues of all the Primarchs in one sitting.”

“BUT IF WE DO NOT, THEN THE HORRIBLE FUTURE THAT WE ARE TRYING TO AVOID, WILL HAPPEN.”

“I think we already made drastic steps to stop it from happening.” Horus reasoned, trying to keep calm. “You can’t force a human being to change entirely so quickly Father, none of us are children.”

“I AM SIMPLY DOING WHAT I BELIEVE TO BE BEST. SON, I AM OVER FOURTY THOUSAND YEARS OLD, I HAVE EXPERIENCED MORE THAN ALL OF YOU AND YOUR BROTHERS COMBINED ABOUT A THOUSAND TIMES OVER. I BELIEVE I KNOW WHAT I’M DOING. I’M NOT WRONG.” The Emperor waved off, it was the same thing he had heard a million times before with Malcador and the other Perpetuals and Eldrad and… Actually, this was becoming a pattern.

“Well you believe wrong!” Horus slammed a closed fist on the table, finally done with his father’s arrogance. “Did you know what you were doing when you went back to Terra, left me as Warmaster and then proceeded to simply stand by as your Imperium rotted into nothingness and came to be ruled by zealots and sycophants?”

“I HAVE PLANS IN PLACE IN CASE OF THE WORST COMING TO PASS. THERE MAY BE SOME HICCUPS HERE AND THERE, BUT I KNOW WHAT I AM DOING. THERE IS A LOT MORE AT STAKE HERE THAN JUST YOU AND YOUR BROTHERS’ FEELINGS!”

“Did you have plans for dying?” Horus asked, now openly hostile. “Because it sure as all hell didn’t look like that in the vids.” He spat, downing another glass quickly even as the serf hastily refiled it.

“I MAY NOT OR MAY HAVE PLANS. BUT MY BEST QUALITY IS ADAPTING TO THE SITUATION.”

“Ha!” Horus laughed, some of the wine escaping from his mouth. “Haha!” He continued to laugh. “I can’t believe what I just heard.” He shook his head at the sheer disbelief of it all. “Your plans rely on everything going smoothly in the first place, or some amount of obscene pre-planned trickery falling in place. You can’t just push and push on something, eventually that will cause it to break, and you don’t seem to realize that.”

“AND WHAT DO YOU EXPECT ME TO DO? SO FAR, I HAVE BEEN RIGHT IN ALL OF MY ASSUMPTIONS. I HAVE BEEN RIGHT TO STEP UP AND BE THE LEADER HUMANITY NEEDS AND DESERVES. I HAVE BEEN RIGHT IN DOING EVERYTHING I HAVE SO FAR, NOT EVEN INCLUDING THE AGE OF STRIFE, NOR THE AGE OF EARTH.” He bristled at Horus talking down to him in such a manner, he wasn’t wrong! 

“Angron seems to have been a fair miss. As well as Magnus, so too has Mortarion. Need I even mention the plan of simply going back to Terra and just leaving the galaxy to its fate?” Horus leaned across the table, getting as close as possible. “I bet that if I spoke with the Sigillite at this very moment, he could tell me of some fairly big wrongs that have happened thus far. Or better yet, what of mother-”

“ENOUGH.” The Emperor let out a wave of energy, forcing Horus to go quiet and sit there before him. “THAT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH YOU.”

“So… there is something more to it.” Horus guessed, reaching for his glass and taking a gentle sip. “Why do you hide it from me still? Nearly two centuries have I been by your side, loyal to a fault, and yet you still treat me as if I am some tool to be used, some child to be lectured.” There was an air of hurt in Horus’ voice, one contradicted by his eyes which were as cold and hard as ice.

“I CAN’T.” The Emperor sat back, the crackling golden energy that had been building up around him calmed, his pressure on Horus faltered. “I CAN’T TALK ABOUT IT. IT’S THE ONE THING I AM NOT SURE I MADE THE RIGHT CHOICE ON. I CAN’T BE WRONG, HORUS. I…” He sighed, “I CAN’T BE WRONG. IF I AM, THEN WHAT I DID…”

Horus groaned. Where was the Sigillite when you needed him? He reached for his glass and downed it even as a serf approaching very carefully and filling it up yet again, Horus noting that it was a new bottle.

He feared they would go well past a dozen by the time they got anything done.

**...**

“-I can’t stand being in the same room as Him!” Roboute yelled out to his gathered brothers, all of them sitting together for lunch. “I can’t stand being in the same ship as Him, I need time away. Years if possible on Macragge, doing nothing more than menial paperwork if possible!” He cradled his head, leaning into the table. “I need to stop thinking about… everything.”

“Honestly, I agree.” Corvus spoke up, sipping at his mug of tea. “When even the logistician is overwhelmed, perhaps we do need to step back and reevaluate our situation.” He shrugged, “Though now, there isn’t much to be done. We are still stuck on the  _ Bucephalus  _ and there is still more time before we have even a chance to escape.”

“There is plenty to be done.” The Lion intervened. “A great many things to adapt to. But we cannot do them from that viewing room.” He grumbled, his great mind already focused on all the other things that needed doing.

“Truth be told.” Sanguinius began. “I am rather more worried about what the Twins are up to. So far we have seen them leave and return at will, doing who knows what while helping father or even furthering their own agenda?”

“They are an unknown factor.” Rogal added in. “We cannot control them, best we do not worry ourselves with their doings. We shall discover the results of their excursions in due time.”

“Aye, can do nothin’ about tha damned twins.” Leman spoke up after downing more ale. “What ah care more about, is how we’re gonna escape from this damned ship!”

“We can’t. Not without the Emperor noticing.” Konrad grumbled. “And as soon as he would, you can bet your pelt that a summons would be upon us as soon as it could reach us.”

“I hate the control he has over us.” Mortarion grumbled to himself, still beyond salty over the last vid. “No matter what we do, he will always order us back.”

“If Nuceria wasn’t enough to push him to make the choice to disband this pretty little party.” Lorgar took the centre of the room, striding with purpose. “Absolutely nothing will.” He grumbled. “Angron might have forgiven him, but I can’t. He will never see reason.”

“Since when did Angron of all people forgive the Emperor?” Magnus spoke up, glancing at Lorgar from across the table. “Actually, never mind. You know what we should do?” All eyes went to Magnus who stiffened, but cleared his throat at all of the attention. “We should perhaps find a way to possibly annoy Father to a point where he can’t stand us and then… we are free. A simple plan, but doable. But not to the point where he will kill us… Not that he would, but I wouldn’t put it past him after II and XI.”

“That has to be one of the worst ideas I have ever heard.” Jaghatai of all people pointed out. “Like putting your head into the jaws of a wolf and not pulling out just for the fun of seeing how much damage it will do to your skull.”

Magnus scowled, “Well I’m the only one coming up with a plan while everyone else is grumbling about! This is another reason why I can’t speak up to any of you…” He grumbled the last part, sitting back in his seat.

“Far be it from my place to chide you brother.” Jaghatai held up his hands in defence. “But there are subtler ways of making apex predators come after you.”

“And why would we be crazy enough to do dat’?” Leman asked.

“Simple.” Jaghatai blinked once. “So we can drive him away towards the one thing that can make him see reason.”

“Malcador.” Everyone gathered and spoke together, agreeing that if there was anyone in the galaxy who could make their Father see reason… it had to be Malcador. They didn’t know of anyone else who could do such a feat.

“And how is that any different than my plan?” Magnus griped from his seat.

“Simple. We have less of a chance of dying. But we need something to do to make this all work out… a catalyst if you will.” Jaghatai continued on, thinking what they could possibly-

“Watch a vid without him.” Perturabo spoke up, sipping at his own tea. “He has been obsessed with the vids and the future. If we watch a vid without him, there is a chance he could kick us out or we force him to go to Malcador because we, ‘dared go against our Father’.”

Roboute sighed, shuddering at the thought. “I just said I want a break…”

“Brother.” Rogal spoke up, “if we do this, and suffer through a main chapter, we will all gain our wish of freedom from Father. We could see Aegidius, put your mind at ease.”

“Somehow I very much doubt that.” Roboute sat up, took a swig of his amasec and stood up. “Alright. Let's do this before anyone else comes up with a saner plan. I can’t stand this ship any longer.”

“Agreed!” The brothers spoke in unison. The past eight weeks were doing things to them, making them prefer the idea of being shot at and conquering planets, far away from each other. Or doing menial work. Away from each other.

Some of them were even laughing maniacally, at the idea of freedom being so close, and away from each other.

...

“Magos!” Ferrus called out in the viewing room. “Magos, your expertise is required!”

“Ferrus, not too loud. Or else Father is going to hear us.” Fulgrim shuddered. He wanted this over and done with so he can go home for the first time in… a long time.

“Sorry- But time is of the essence! We only have so much time before Father realizes what we are doing and everything will be for nothing.” Ferrus continued to search for the Magos, leaving the room.

“Ay dios mio.” Lorgar sighed, “Perhaps we can go with Magnus’ plan instead and annoy Father. I can throw some spider milk tortillas at him.”

“I like Carnitas.” Magnus said. “But please, do not throw tortillas at him. We want to leave in one piece, not half of us dying.”

“Found him!” Ferrus cried out, carrying the Magos who was in the middle of working on his dataslate and slurping on some unknown nutrient paste. “Magos, sorry to interrupt, but we need you to play a vid for us.”

“Without the Omnissiah?” Lehm asked, holding his dataslate to his chest.

“We are…” Ferrus trailed off, looking to one of his more charismatic brothers to help him out, while he motioned his eyes at the Magos.

“Oh! Right-” Sanguinius stepped forward, “We are simply getting ready for him. As you know, he is quite busy and it is our duty to watch the vids for him at times. We don’t want to bother him at all times just for vid watching, you know.” He smiled at the Magos, “he does have a life outside of the vids.”

Many Primarchs couldn’t help but imagine the lives they needed to get back to.

Magos Lehm glanced to the Primarchs, then back to the display. Sighed, stuffing his dataslate into his robes. “Very well. Put me down and I shall play you a vid. But this is my lunch break, so I will continue to eat.”

“Perfectly understandable.” Lorgar said, sitting back down on his throne. Just… Just one more vid, then they could leave. And he can go back home and… Figure out what he was going to do with his life. But at least it wouldn’t be the  _ Bucephalus  _ anymore.

Magos Lehm prepared the next vid, accepting the vid handed to him by Ferrus, who was already imagining getting back to his forges and working on something. Vulkan had the same thought, except far away from everyone else for once.

Everyone was having thoughts of being far away from each other, of continuing the Crusade, or doing menial work, or anything else they could think of. Just as long as they were away from each other.

Mangos Lehm then prayed to the machine spirit, the vid playing and plunging the Primarchs back into the hell that was vid watching. Just one more… then they could be free and away from their Father and everyone else. For years if possible.

_**…  
** _ **206.M42 - Macragge,** **_Fortress of Hera Training Hall  
_ ** **...**

When the vid opened up on a bird's eye view of the same training hall before, it was almost as if nothing had changed. It was similar to the view they had before, before when they didn’t have confirmation the Emperor was squatting in Aegidius’ mind and body.

This time, however, the boys were different. Aegidius and Damien were maturing into young men, despite only being ten years old. Damien was getting longer, taller, and filled out. He would always be of the skinnier sort, but no longer did he look close to death’s door due to starvation, he had a healthy glow on his face and had begun to resemble more of his mother than his father, less angular and more soft. While he grew taller, his hands and feet still looked a bit too large for him, yet he still used them deftly in his training, even at times switching from his training blade to his hands catching the blade attempting to slice Aegidius.

Aegidius, however, was beyond different when compared to Damien in growth. He was currently an inch or two below or above his cousin, definitely stockier than his friend. Compared to most of the other serfs and neophytes, Aegidius was shedding his baby fat finally and was looking a bit more square like his father. What he didn’t get from his father was his grace and his more Aeldari like features. His eyes shone brighter, his ears were becoming more prominent and there was a type of sway to his hair that felt distinctly Aeldari, the way it moved on it’s own.

At the moment, the two boys were in the middle of an intense training session, the light above them bearing down on them with an intense heat as they fought against each other. With each movement, their shadows below followed along, both shapes normal and to scale with the two boys.

Konrad: “Oh good, a boring one.”  
Rogal: *Picking up a wooden support beam* “I have done the reading, and have some to the conclusion this will be needed. Hit the wood, Konrad.” *Offers the beam to Konrad*  
Konrad: “Ha. No.”  
Rogal: “You will regret this.”

“Pudgy!” Damien snickered as Aegidius went red in the face and began attacking him harder than before. “Pudgy, pudgy, pudgy!”

“I’m not fat!” The young Emperor growled and tried to focus on his movements and tactics, he knew Damien was trying to rile him up, but still… He was not fat. “I am losing weight, you know!”

“Yeah, but it makes you mad.” Damien snickered as he dodged another angry shout and slash from Aegidius who most definitely was not angry that he was fat. Which he’s not. “And Vlad says that mental manipulation of your target is vital for battle-”

“That doesn’t mean you get to call me fat! Which I’m not!”

A groan from the side piped up, distorted by a vox grill. “Boy! Do not reveal the tactics you are using to your enemy!”

“Sorry, Vlad!” Damien quickly apologised before bringing his attention back to his duel and dodging Aegidius’ attacks. “Sorry, should I stop?”

“Don’t take pity on me!” Was the only angry shout that came from the boy Emperor, who was considering using his psychic abilities to help him fight Damien and get him to shut up about his weight. He had to get better, everyone wanted him to be better, so he had to…

Pushing as much focus and strength into his blows against Damien, he practically growled as pursued Damien who squeaked in surprise at the sudden spike in ferocity. “Ah! Gidius- Gidius calm down, I didn’t mean to make you mad! You’re not fat! Ah!” He let out a scream as he was dodging more frequently, the amount of attacks coming from Aegidius was doubling and it was getting more and more improbable for him to dodge them, much less get in an attack of his own.

If only he could just- just do something to get Aegidius off of him! Anything to get a moment from Aegidius and plan his next strategy-

“Damien!?” Aegidius stopped, a gob smacked look on his face as he paused. Vlad had gone quiet, same with Palicia and even the Custodes who stood to the side and supervised their fights. “How did you do that?”

Konrad: “Did he just go invisible?”  
Corvus: “Yup.”  
Konrad: “Isn’t that your thing?”  
Corvus: “Yes, but at this point, the children barely make any sense. Don’t question it.”  
Konrad: *Shrugs* “Fair enough.”

Damien blinked, he wasn’t sure what Aegidius meant, or why everyone was quiet. What did he do? “What? Do what?”

“How are you invisible?” Aegidius asked, pointing at Damien.

Sure enough, when Damien looked down at his hands, which were exposed from his training suit, they were gone. He paused, mind fried as he tried to figure out what happened.

Then his mind started up again as he bounced in place, “Woah! Aegidius I’m INVISIBLE!” Damien couldn’t help but be excited, he didn’t think his dad could do something like this- but- he- this was- “This is so COOL! Aegidius look, look- actually you can’t!”

It was… weird to see a small training suit bouncing in place with no head or hands in sight. Aegidius couldn’t stop the bubble of laughter coming from him as he watched Damien turning around in place,trying to see what else of himself was invisible.

Slowly reaching out, Aegidius poked Damien in his chest with the training sword, finding the solid mass of his cousin still where it should be. Letting out another giggle, he poked and poked again, his giggles rising in intensity as he poked at his cousin over and over.

“Pffffft- Stop! Gidius stooooop! That tickles!” Damien couldn’t stop himself from laughing, the chest poking making him burst into a fit of laughter as his skin shimmered and he lost his invisibility.

_ “Ah yes, this is when that cousin of yours first exhibited a show of his bred powers. Quite interesting, if simplistic in the arts of the Empyrean.” _

_ “Yeah. It was. Maybe if I didn’t get so mad at him, then he wouldn’t have activated that gift of his… Then maybe he wouldn’t have caught his father’s attention…” _

Magnus: “Oh no…”  
Rogal: “This is your fault, Konrad. You just had to hit the wood.”  
Korand: “Frak you.”

**...**

“Well. That was interesting.” The Lord Commander commented from the viewing platform above the Training Hall even as he turned to face his brother. “A most… changing development, wouldn’t you say?”

Konrad: “Stop trying to make me spend time with the boy, Guilliman!”  
Roboute: “Stop being a shitty father, then.”

The Night Haunter only watched over the two boys, a permanent sneer on his face as he refused to acknowledge Guilliman’s prodding. “The boy has potential.”

“Potential?” Guilliman let out a huff. “Even now you would deny him his birthright? A place at your side? The place he has earned with all of his suffering and his many trials?”

“I decide who gets a place by my side, not you. I have my own trials, and if he or any of my new sons cannot pass them, then he does not deserve a place in my legion.”

“Interesting words brother.” Guilliman nodded, a look which showed doubt on his face. “Ones you will never have to put to the test if you never so much as touch him.” He nodded in the direction of the respective sons.

Another sneer, “I hate trading word shivs with you.”

Guilliman put a hand on his brother's shoulder. “There is no need for them if you would only do what is necessary.” He lectured without ill intent or malice. “Take the boy and mould him into what he is supposed to be. Make him your son. Blood and gene.”

“He is fine, here. I don’t have to deal with him and he makes progress here.” Not to mention he hated having to protect and care for anything.

“He is the heir to one of the most powerful forces in the entire history of humanity. He will never be accepted by them if he is raised Ultramarian.” Guilliman shook his head. “He has made as much progress here as he can. Take him. If you wait any longer, he will never survive the procedures.”

He always did hate how Guilliman just made so much sense. It was one of the things he hated the most about the perfect blue boy. But… he had a point. He disliked the boy, he disliked being around him and really disliked the idea of dealing with him for extended periods of time… but he didn’t hate him.

“Fine. I’ll take him to Quirinius today. His trials will require my full attention and may take a few years. Will you be able to survive without having me here to do your dirty work?”

Konrad: “I hate you.”  
Roboute: “Shut up. I’m making you spend time and be a father. What’s the worst that could happen.”  
Rogal: *Offers the wooden beam*  
Roboute: *Sighs and knocks on it, until Rogal slowly pulls it away from him*

Guilliman smiled. “Leave the politics to me brother. With the capital in the state that it now is in, thanks in no small part to Rogal, I can finally focus my attention on the bigger problems.” He allowed his hands to fall off of his brother's shoulder. “Go. See to his trials.”

Konrad nodded and walked away.

“Brother?” Guilliman spoke, causing Konrad to stop in his tracks.  _ “ _ Remember.  _ Ave Imperator _ .”

Konrad closed his eyes, his teeth clenching at the memory, his mind pained, but grounded. It was good that Guilliman reminded him, even if it brought him this suffering…

_ “Ave Imperator.” _ He responded, stalking off without so much as another word.

Magnus: “I don’t like this… I really don’t like this… I have a bad feeling…”  
Lorgar: “Which is why you’re singing that.”  
Magnus: “So are you…”

**...**

A nice cool towel over his face after training soothed the boy Emperor, despite him laying back on the bench and listening to Damien ramble on and on about his new ability.

To many people, it would annoy them to their very core. To Aegidius, to which Damien was his one and true best friend, he found it relaxing.

“I still can’t believe how freaked out Vlad was! He was all like, ‘Damien how long could you do that’ and I was all like, ‘Vlad I’m invisible this is so cool’ and then he just started screaming at me and oh man-” Damien giggled like mad, glancing around and watching Vlad nearby still screaming his head off at a Custodes who could care less about what he thought. “I didn’t think I’d ever surprise Vlad, but here I am! I still have no idea how it happened, but Gidius this is so cool! I can turn invisible- can you imagine all the cool stuff I can do with this? Is it just my skin that does it or am I a psycho guy like you and I can use it to make my clothes invisible too? Cause I don’t know how I’d feel about running around places without my undies, really…”

Konrad: “Kill me. Kill me now, before my eardrums burst and I go insane.”  
Vulkan: “Many people want to, but not right now.” *Just done with everything*

“Maybe you can finally sneak out of your bath and by Palicia?” Aegidius asked, his voice muffled by the towel over his face.

“Maybe! Finally, I can get away from bath time. It’s really warm and nice, but do I really need to have a bath every day? It’s weird enough to take a bath, but I can’t stand doing it every night or morning like Palicia wants me to.”

“Though…” Aegidius’ eyebrow furrowed underneath the towel. “Imagine it failing  _ while _ you're sneaking out and finding yourself naked in front of her.” He re-positioned the towel so that he could take a peek at Damien’s quickly reddening face.

The tiny shadow paused as he imagined that very scenario. Then his face went red as he let out a shriek of pure horror. “No! No stop it! I don’t want Palicia to see my no no space! I would die from embarrassment! Die, I tell you!”

Aegidius began to laugh, taking the towel off of his face. “Your- your-” He wheezed. “No-no spa-” He couldn’t finish the words, another bout of laughter taking hold instead. “It’s called- it’s called your privates! You idiot.”

“No, it’s called my no no space! It’s cause you don’t run around without clothes on! Not in public, not in private. It’s my no no space and no one can see or touch it!” Damien was even more red faced, pulling a towel and covering his face with it.

“You mean running around just like that time you managed to escape your bath and run down the hall? And then- and then-” Aegidius breathed, watching the growing horror on his best friends face. “Ran into Constantin!”

“Don’t remind meeeeeheeeheeeeheeee…” He flopped over onto the bench, kicking his legs. “That was so stupid, what was I thinking!? I can’t believe I ran into Constantin-” He then devolved into giggles, remembering the stern talking he had gotten after that incident. “...it was kind of funny…” He then looked up at Aegidius, grinning. “Like that time we broke into your dad’s study?”

“Do not speak of that!” Aegidius growled, then blushed as his voice cracked. “We didn’t get caught, and… it was just one sip, you know?”

Roboute: *Snaps out of his muse* “What?”  
Rogal: “Brother. Do you keep, it, in your drawer?”  
Roboute: “Yes…” *Takes a deep breath* “Yes I do. I’m grounding Aegidius again from the past.”

“We took one sip and had to hide out for two days! We were so loopy and crashing into things… And we kept slurring! We couldn’t let everyone find us like that!” Damien shuddered, but still grinned. “We still got away with it!”

“It wasn’t worth it…” Aegidius groaned. “Our throats  _ burned _ and we had the most massive headaches of our lives. And I think I just got grounded again...”

Magnus: “Stop it!”  
Leman: “It plays with his idea of continuity.” *Dickish laughter*  
Sanguinius: “And it’s trying my patience!”

Damien giggled. “Yeah.” He snorted and got up, picking up his training sword and twirling it skilfully in one hand. “Want one more round? Loser has to do the others' homework.”

Aegidius stood, shaking his head even as he reached for his own practice sword. “I help you do yours no matter what anyway, remember?” Then he sighed, “Besides, I have way more homework than you do.”

“That still sucks, we’ve been getting less play time and you’ve been in so many classes and tutors. It sucks that you’re so busy all the time.” Damien poked Aegidius’ leg with his foot, “but come on! If we train more, then it’s technically play time! We get less homework if we spend time in the training halls, right?”

“Yeah.” Aegidius sat up, grinning at Damien. “I’m gonna beat you to pulp.”

“If you don’t trip, like when we were balancing on the edge of the outer walls and you went over.” Damien snickered at Aegidius who was now glaring at him. “Your mom was sooooo angry at you.”

Roboute: “Why are you playing on the outer walls!?”  
Magnus: “Don’t lecture the vid.”  
Roboute: “I am not, and won’t lecture a vid! Stop saying I will!”  
Lorgar: “The point is that this is only going to go slower the more you talk to it.”

“Yeah, but not as mad as Palicia was when you got lost again and ended up stuck in the waste chute... again.” It was his turn to snicker at Damien, who looked horrified at the idea.

“Because it was a travesty! People throw away perfectly good cake and I wasn’t gonna let it go to waste! Not my fault I got stuck halfway through and was showered with more sweets. It was kinda funny that they had to cut open the walls again to get me out. Uncle Rogal was surprised I got stuck again.” He paused, thinking about the delicious cakes that might be served after dinner. He hoped for chocolate, but he was happy for anything sweet.

“And that is the reason why the waste chutes are now big enough to let an Astartes free fall.” Aegidius got a good grip on his sword as they both took center stage again. “To first hit?”

“Sure! Sounds like it’ll be a quick fight cause- you’re fat!” He snickered as he went to dodging Aegidius again, cackling gremlin laughter as he pushed Aegidius’ buttons again.

“I’m gonna make you eat those words.” Aegidius snorted, taking a combat stance even as Damien assumed his own.

This was going to be-

“Boy.” A deep voice made them freeze even as Konrad Curze walked to them, clad in his power armour, the steps echoing off of the freshly cut marble walls.

Rogal: “You should have knocked.”  
Magnus: “They’re already here.”  
Perturabo: “The wood told of this return.”  
Leman: “The calm intro... was merely a delay.”  
Sanguinius: “In the time, before Konrad knocked on the wood.”  
Lorgar: “And Rogal offered him the way out.”  
Lion: “All of you  _ shut up _ . I won’t sit here and listen to all of you quoting that stupid game based off of Leman’s culture! Watch the damned vid!”  
Lehm: “Do not speak ill of such a relic, Lord of the First. I happen to have a copy of this relic running at this very moment on my augmetic eye. It has been sold and repackaged and is able to be run on countless devices. So once more, do not speak ill of such a creation.”  
Ferrus: “How does such a relic even work?”  
Lehm: *Shrugs* “It just works.”

“Father.” Damien greeted back in a soft voice, looking up at his sire in open awe.

“Come. We are going.” Konrad then turned and walked away, not even bothering to wait for Damien. 

“Oh. Uhhh… Ok? See you later, Gidius?” He shrugged, then started to walk after Konrad, “Where are we going?”

“Quirinius.”

Damien paused, thinking back to his galactical navigation classes. “Isn’t that another planet? Why are we going there? Doesn’t it take a long time to go to another planet?”

“Yes.” Konrad ground out, coming to a stop and turning around to face his son. “Are you coming boy?”

Damien stopped, he looked back to Aegidius who had a blank look on his face. Then he turned back to his father, who was staring down at him with his usual sour face. He was gonna spend time with his dad! But… But he was leaving? He looked to Vlad and Palicia, Palicia wasn’t doing anything and Vlad was already moving after them. He looked back to Aegidius, imagining not waking up in his bed and racing to breakfast to tell Gidius what they were gonna do that day and if they could hang out later.

...he didn’t want to leave.

“Do I have to go?” He asked his father, hoping against everything that he could stay and not have to leave.

“Yes.” It was Vlad who answered. “Your brothers call you home. It is time.” It was oddly somber words from someone who was typically brash and rude.

Leman: “Ah. He’s gonna have a wonderful time.”  
Konrad: “Ugh… I’m gonna be stuck with him for years… At least I’ll have Vlad.”  
Roboute: “Be nice to him!”  
Konrad: “Nah.”

“How- How long are we gonna be gone?”

“Until you are ready.” Vlad explained, putting a hand on his back, even as he glanced back at Palicia, just for a second. “This was always going to happen at one point. You are as prepared as you will ever be.”

Ready? Ready for what? He wanted to ask, he wanted to know how long he was going to be gone, he wanted to ask if they could wait another day or two, he wanted to ask if he could pack anything or anything else on his mind. But for once, he couldn’t force the words out.

“No.”

Aegidius spoke out, a simple statement as he stared forward at them. He could feel a sharp burn in the back of his mind, but he ignored it. “No.”

“No?” Konrad asked, turning to Aegidius, even as Sicarius quickly walked to his lord's side and knelt.

“His Chapter calls Damien home, my lord.” Sicarius whispered in Aegidius’ ear. “To refuse it on his behalf would be most unwise, and the gravest of insults.”

“Why!?” Aegidius shouted out, a wave of energy rippling through and causing silence to reign in the training hall. “Why now? Why do you suddenly care about Damien!?”

“Because it is his destiny.” A commanding voice countered, causing Aegidius to look over to the entrance and see his father standing there, dressed in his formal robes, a stern look on his face as he came closer. “He may be your friend and your cousin, Aegidius, but this is not your choice. He shall make it, just as you will make yours one day as well.”

His fists clenched, shaking with the pure anger that was swelling inside of him. “That… is not… what…” He stared back at Konrad, “I…  **asked** .” He glared at Konrad, who glared right back at him. “Why do you suddenly care about Damien!? You never did before!”

Konrad glared down at the boy, his anger quickly rising even as he glanced at Roboute, who in turn only made a simple motion for him to explain himself.

“I don’t.” Konrad answered simply. “I care to serve the throne, that is all.”

Another wave of energy pulsed from Aegidius, sending serfs and other menials to the ground with a shocked yell. He continued to stare at Konrad, thinking about how lonely it was going to get again. “You’re taking away my only friend.” Another sharp burn in his mind, stronger this time, blurring his vision.

Magnus: “Oh great, antagonize a budding Alpha-class psyker. Wonder how it’s going to go  _ this time around. _ ”  
Jaghatai: “Bad decisions everywhere.”

Konrad snorted, not appearing to care much. “Damien.” He instead looked down at his son. “Come.” He reached out with a hand, even if the moment was small and not very noticeable, the effect it had on Damien, very much was.

Not having Damien around, not having someone to talk to his age, not having someone else who could get it. He remembered what it was like to be alone, to be surrounded by adults who just told him what to do. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair! Konrad never cared about Damien before, but now he does? He never cared about him!

And now Damien was going to him?  _ Why!? _

Damien looked back to Aegidius, feeling the tension in the room skyrocketing as he watched his friend taking deep calming breaths that look anything but calm. “Gidius… This is what I have been training for. It’s my dad, and if he says it’s time for me to leave, then it’s time. Vlad told me so…”

“You’re leaving me.” He looked to Konrad again, watching that… that look on his face. He didn’t care about Damien. He didn’t care about his well being! He didn’t have his best interests in mind! “Liar…” He ground out, thinking about how his vision was blurring more and more, and burning with such an intensity. It was annoying-

Konrad did not seem to care, at the moment Damien reached him and had taken his hand, Konrad began to walk.

“A duel.” Aegidius proclaimed then and there, fury beginning to cloud his mind further. “Whoever gets first hit, Damien stays with.”

Damien looked back in shock. “Gidius’, you’ll- you’ll never beat dad! Not a Primarch-”

“I accept.” Konrad nodded, looking over Aegidius and towards Roboute who could only nod somberly even as he sent a serf running in secret to fetch Eldrad, knowing his son would need the psychic support of his mentor, especially with Aegidius’ mother being off-world at this time.

Leman: *Sighs* “Didn’t need to witness a beat down today.”

Why did he get to have the burning in his head all the time? Why did he get to have his friend taken away? Why did he have to be the Emperor? Why did he have to have everyone telling him what to do? Why did everything he did have to get so messed up all the time? Another sharp burn went through his mind, all of it feeling as if he was doused into fire, telling him to stop. Annoying annoying annoying-

“So be it.” His father ordered, even as the padded square where the training happened was cleared and Pupponius brought Aegidius his dropped sword and Konrad took up one of his own.

Everything in him was burning, was blurring as he reached for his sword. His mind was screaming at him to stop, it was hurting him to reach and grab onto his sword.

Magnus: “Something is keeping him from trying to fight.”  
Roboute: “I have an idea…”  
Magnus: “As do I.”

No! Enough! He was tired of his mind attacking him and making him feel like he was on fire all the time! How would everyone else like it if they were on fire!? Inside of his mind, he grabbed onto whatever was making him burn and ache, fighting against himself as he forced it to stop hurting him.

He walked to the center of the square, Konrad opposite of him as they both took a stance. The Primarch absolutely towering over him, everyone around them knowing that Aegidius wouldn’t survive even a few seconds.

He mechanically walked into the center of the square, his mind still wrestling with the power there, asserting dominance over it. Sick and tired of his mind hurting him.

Roboute stood by, watching in the distance as Eldrad walked in, his heavy robes flowing behind him as he flowed with the utmost grace towards the fight, his eyebrows slowly beginning to furrow more and more as he did so.

Roboute dismissed it and turned his attention back to his son and brother, hoping to get this over with as quickly as possible. Knowing that this was the only way his son would ever learn.

“Fight.”

The same instant they called out, was the same moment he felt his mind turn and begin to weave the fury and anger, spinning it and forming it into an unnatural amount of raw psychic power. It was not going to push him around anymore,  _ he  _ was going to push it back now.  _ He  _ was in control! Oh… it felt as if he was drunk on pure  **_fire..._ **

In less than the blink of an eye, in a move so quick that even the Astartes and Custodes watching didn’t even see so much as a blur, Konard swung his sword, aiming directly for Aegidius’ neck. And yet… somehow, in that same tiny amount of time, Aegidius dropped his own sword, watching as how Konrad’s own was coming straight at him… then stopped.

Konrad’s sword froze, a mere inch away from touching Aegidius’ neck even as his own blade fell onto the ground, echoing around the frozen chamber even as Eldrad began to run.

Somehow, despite being made of plasteel, Konrad’s sword began to  _ splinter _ . The sheer amount of raw power making Konrad begin to choke even as the sword obliterated itself and deep cracks began to form upon the Primarch’s armour. Cracks reaching all the way down to his skin, giving Aegidius the perfect opening.

Leman: “What”  
Magnus: “The”  
Konrad: “FUCK.”  
Perturabo: “What the shit-”

Eldrad ran. Sprinting with such speed that he appeared as a bolt of lightning.

The power inside of Aegidius churned, his eyes glowed an amber gold even as his hand swung out, the power flowing and creating a spark.

Eldrad reached him at the last second, diverting the massive form of psychic energy even as it turned to ethereal warp fire, going for the ceiling instead of Konrad, burning and  _ melting _ the marble ceiling, high above them.

Magnus: “Oh. Oh no.”  
Jaghatai: “That is not good.” *Glances to Konrad* “You almost died.”  
Kornad: “HOW. IT IS A CHILD.”  
Magnus: “Alpha-plus psyker who is hopped up on his anger and directing it at you.”  
Jaghatai: “Usually… no.”

Yet, this did not stop the boy Emperor. His fury was too much, his wrath not yet sated. He swung around, a roar not of this world escaping his throat against his will as he brought his attention to killing Konrad, knowing that Eldrad would be too slow and his Father would be too far off.

The energy flowed, aimed straight at- Damien!?

“STOP!” His cousin cried out, standing in front of his father, who was now sitting on the ground. “STOP!” He shouted again, tears flowing down his cheeks even as his hands became visible again.

“Da-damien!?” Aegidius asked again, the realization of what he had just done hitting him full force even as Damien breathed heavily. It wasn’t the melting ceiling that splattered onto the ground around them, the look of shock on Konrad’s face or even the horrified looks on the faces of the others that stopped him.

It was Damien who was looking at him like he was a monster.

“Stop it…” He cried. “Don’t-don’t kill dad!” He pleaded. “I- I  _ want  _ to go with him. He’s all I have left.”

Why… Why did he… Why did he have to stand there like that!? Why was he looking at him like he was in the wrong!? He was doing his best to help him, to stop Konrad! Why was he being so ungrateful for his help!? Did his friendship mean nothing to him!?

“If you can’t stand being around me, then leave! Get out!” He couldn’t stop the tears that were spilling out of him, raw anger and fury over now and deeper anger confusing the small boy. “ _ Betray me. _ ” The anger grew, a commanding tone taking hold.  **“Like your father betrayed me all that time ago!”** The anger… the voice, it was not Aegidius, not truly.

Roboute: “I KNEW IT!”  
Magnus: “Confirmed!”  
Rogal: “Oh no.”  
Perturabo: “Great.”  
Konrad: “I knew it- I knew it! I fucking knew it!”  
Leman: “Ah’m… missing something. Ahm ah the only one lost here?”  
Sanguinius: “SHUSH! Stop talking so I can enjoy more content!”  
Leman: “Okay, okay…”

Damien flinched back at the pure, unfiltered rage that was simmering in Aegidius- thing- whatever it was he was looking at. He quickly turned around and started trying to push his father out of the training hall, desperate to get away from the thing that was standing where his friend was.

Konrad obeyed, even if reluctantly. They began to walk even as Damien looked back at his friend. Seeing not only him but… a shadow. Whatever was there, behind- in- besides- above- with Aegidius… it scared him.

_ “And this was the turning point.” Eldrad walked in front of them. _

_ “I… I don’t want to see anymore.” _

_ “Do you perhaps mean the lectures? Or more of your inability to control yourself simply because of stronger emotions?” Eldrad chided, making Aegidius flinch. “You acted as a child, you threw a temper tantrum. This memory is a lesson.”  _

Magnus: “Wait… this is a memory viewing.”  
Lorgar: “So… he’s viewing this through a safer environment to confront the feelings he is experiencing, due to the trauma of what happened?”  
Magnus: “Ye-Yes actually. Very astute of you, brother.”  
Lorgar: “...how come Father never used this with us?”  
Magnus: “Well… It takes both to be psykers and a Primarch mind is more complex than a regular mind and… there are complications and the threat of losing said memories…”  
Jaghatai: “Or just do a vision quest and guide the people through it while protecting them.”  
Magnus: “That too. Honestly, I don’t even understand why father never explained-”  
Corvus: *Snapping fingers at Magnus* “Hey. Focus. Vid. Watch. Now.”

_ “A poor one considering that I am looking at it for the hundredth time.” He couldn’t help but look at his father, and the horrified expression on his face. _

_ “A situation is not made bad to study simply because the one studying it cannot discern anything from it.” Eldrad tutted, walking around his past self. “Sometimes, the lesson lies on the surface, sometimes it is laid plain, yet again in other times, it bears fruit later in life.” He stopped, looking at what directly felt like his eyes. “That, is the lesson.” He snapped his fingers, and a blinding white light consumed all. _

**...**

Suddenly, they were back in Eldrad’s quarters. Aegidius stood before Eldrad, who was staring through him and into his own soul.

He hated it when Master Eldrad did that… It was almost as bad as when his mom did it. He couldn’t ignore how disappointed Eldrad looked at him

Slowly but surely he stretched out his aching and stiff limbs, standing from the cushions on the balcony in Eldrad’s quarters, high in the Fortress of Hera. “We are done for today then?” He asked even as he more or less made a run for the inside of the quarters but was stopped by Eldrad.

“Wait a while, I ordered tea. It is important we discuss the travels through your memories.”

In other words, Eldrad didn’t want to drink tea alone again. Great.

With a dismissive grunt, Aegidius turned around and walked back to the edge of the balcony where he perched himself, looking down at Macragge Magnas Civitas. So widely different now then a mere couple of years ago. Still being rebuilt, but already looking like a grander version of its former self along with having the main benefit of disguising the fact that the city itself now was a living, breathing fortress.

Spires reached for the stratosphere, which could double as command strongholds. Massive squares were scattered across the city, which could function as landing and mustering grounds. Many new manufactorums were built and slums cleared to be replaced with actual housing. New walls were added, new towers, new turrets, entire new regimental barracks, space ports…

It was wild. Not even the fortress itself was left untouched. Uncle Rogal had laid the hand of a warmason on the entirety of Macragge. Making the Fortress of Hera go from a bastion of hope and a mark of the Ultramarines, to an echo of the beloved and long gone Imperial Palace.

Rogal: “I have done good work.”  
Perturabo: *Huffs*  
Rogal: “I will speak to Father.”  
Perturabo: *Pauses then nods* “...see that you do.”  
Rogal: “As long as you learn to pace yourself and make use of all your garrison duty.”  
Perturabo: *Grumbles intensely*

His masterpiece he called it. Even if it was far from done.

Aegidius thought that Uncle Rogal was exaggerating, but he didn’t care in the first place.

Not since Damien left and everything got boring and worse.

“Two lumps?” Eldrad asked even as he already dropped the cubes into Aegidius’ cup. He simply accepted the cup, thankful for the extra sweetness, even if he didn’t ask for it. “Would you care for idle chit chat or would you rather we delve into the deeper matters at hand?”

“Idle chit chat, please.” The young Emperor grinned at the look his mentor was giving him now, surprised he actually took the boring choice. “Please, do tell me more about your children?”

The elder Aeldari sat there, slowly mixing his tea with soft clinks filling the air between them as he stared at the young Emperor, not actually holding the spoon with his fingers, but using his psychic powers to move it around. Not often someone  **chose** to be a cheeky bastard, unlike himself.

He stopped the spoon from stirring and made it tap three times on the edge of his fine Aeldari Wraithbone cup, before taking a dainty little sip and putting the cup back on it’s saucer.

“Which child?”

Aegidius shrugged, “You complain a lot about Macha, why not tell me about Taldeer and Ronahn?”

Vulkan: “Dawn of War! We watched that!”  
Corvus: “Indeed. Two very good holovids.”  
Lorgar: “Three-”  
Corvus: “No. There weren’t. Just like with that series of holovids Father showed us, there are only seven.”

“Oh, yes good choice, finally moving on from the who-” Eldrad stopped himself, clearing his throat. “Well, to be honest. Taldeer could do better and Ronahn could be around better company.”

“Why? How can she do better? What does she do?”

“Well, she ‘married’ a Mon-Keigh for starters.” He took a nice long sip of his tea.

Aegidius stared at Eldrad then looked down at himself then back to Eldrad. He spread his arms out and nodded his head a few times as he gestured to himself.

“Oh, pardon, all offence meant, it is just simple semantics. Here is a powerful farseer, going up in the world, about to be inducted into the council of farseers, and then she goes and marries a Mon-Keigh, not just any Mon-Keigh, a Vindicare Assassin that was trying to  _ kill _ her. But then again, love acts strangely upon the skeins of fate.” He took another sip.

Aegidius scoffed and siped at his own tea, ears flattening back in obvious displeasure. “Is she happy though? I mean, was she happy being a farseer? Is she happy being married?”

“No idea. Haven’t seen her since she gave birth to my granddaughter.”

He couldn’t help but blink several times as this information was processed. How could someone not ask their own child how they felt? Or talk to them? Then his mood darkened, thinking back to how horrifically angry and disappointed his own father was at him after he almost… He didn’t even want to hear why he was so angry, he just called it a tantrum and… He didn’t want to think about it. So instead he jumped topics, “You have a granddaughter?”

“Oh yes, I forgot, Macha might also think that I am dead.” Idly speaking, he sipped more tea. He made sure to ignore Aegidius’ angered snort. “But let us not just talk about the semantics about my irrelevant family life. How is your cousin?”

“Damien is gone. Remember?”

“Oh not that one, the other one, the… wild and furry one. You know, the wild one? I forget her name.”

“Oh- Oh, you mean… Freya?”

“Yes! Yes that wolf thing. The canid.” He drank the rest of his tea. “How is she, by the by?”

Leman: “WOLF THING!?”  
Lion: “She is a wolf thing.”  
Leman: “HUSH.”

He shrugged, not really caring much on this topic. “I dunno. She lives here, but I don’t ever see her. She tried to kill me when we first met, we made faces at each other when we do see each other and really? I can’t stand being around her. And even if I wanted to be around her, she’s never around.” He sipped at his tea, wishing the topic could shift.

“Ah yes, what a shame, there might be a lot to be learned from such a savage. The future path of an avatar perhaps? Anger maybe. If it could be controlled.”

Aegidius sighed. Eldrad was being a philosopher again. “More like the avatar of a selfish god who only knows how to ruin everything she comes across.” A burn on the side of his head shocked him, then made him stop and realise he was being unnecessarily mean about his cousin. But then again, he was all too happy to rebel against whatever it was in his head that was making his life hell, so whatever. Freya could take it.

“Every god or goddess has their place.” Eldrad lectured. “That wild one may yet find hers.” 

“Right, whatever, I’m done.” Aegidius was quick to stand, leaving his empty cup on a pile of books nearby. It would most likely be there for the rest of time. “Nice talk, I have somewhere to be.” And quickly he was leaving Eldrad’s quarters, slamming the door closed behind him.

He stretched his back and began walking down the hall even as Pupponius and another Custodian joined him a fair distance behind him, following him at a reasonable distance now after multiple other… incidents.

Ugh, now he was reminded of the shit happening in the past. Ever since Damien left, it was all… different.

He tried hanging out with Friedrich in his rare moments of free time and the time their schedules lined up… but the only things Friedrich did in his free time was exercise and train and do architecture.

Which was fine. It was absolutely fun, even if the exercise almost killed him…

But, well, Friedrich talked. And he talked about… the deep stuff. Stuff which kind of bothered him. Like how Damien leaving was the right thing and Aegidius was just bitter about it… Then his mind burned and then he couldn’t stand being around him anymore.

So that was out. Sicarius on the other hand was fine and all but… well, in the end he was a Space Marine. He might be training him with a blade with all due efficiency but he outgrew the awe of having a big brother Space Marine and kind of outgrew Sicarius. One could only tell so many stories.

And don’t get him started on the Custodes! The only ones that apparently survived Terra were the strict ones, the serious and the philosophers were stuck with the Sisters of Silence when they evacuated. But the reason he hated being around the Custodes?

They wouldn’t stop calling him the Emperor! Never, Emperor Aegidius, or just Aegidius, just Emperor or my liege, or any iteration of it! They never acknowledged what he was saying when he told them to call him by his name, always preparing him for his ascension to “Emperor”. If they weren’t drilling him on how to fight like an Emperor, they were drilling him on how to talk like an Emperor and how to act like an Emperor! The worst part was- it was starting to stick! He didn’t feel like himself any longer.

Lion: “That’s the point of it.”  
Sanguinius: “Hush. Trying to watch. Discussion later.”  
Roboute: *Gets up* “I’ll be right back. I need some ale.”  
Lion: “What.” *Watches Roboute leave*  
Leman: “Aight. Imma get some with him.” *Slaps armrests and stands up with Roboute*  
Lion: “So much for a quick viewing.”

At this point, even the library had gotten obnoxious. And ever since the Fortress began being rebuilt, he couldn’t even visit Santodes anymore without tripping like five dozen alarms. At least Santodes was open with him and actually called him by his name...

“My Emperor, your next lesson is scheduled in half an hour. You are permitted this time for relaxation.” Pupponious informed his liege.

“Well great. Fantastic…” Aegidius muttered, more to himself than anyone else. Oh yes, ‘permitted’, he was ‘permitted’ time to himself. There wasn’t much else he was permitted to do ever since he tried to kill Konrad-

Uncle Konrad. Uncle. Konrad. Uncle Konrad. He stopped to recite this a few more times in his mind, wondering when he started calling him Konrad and not Uncle Konrad. It was Uncle Konrad, Uncle Konrad-

Ever since he tried to kill Uncle Konrad, these past months have been a nightmare. Damien was gone and abandoned him, the palace was different, his Father was spending more and more time away from him, his mother hadn’t come home yet and now everyone was trying to psychoanalyze him! All because Uncle Konrad decided to… to ruin everything. If he had just stopped caring about Damien like he usually did, none of this would have happened.

Well. Maybe he could do something about it? Like… taking away a lesson from it?

Ha. As if. He couldn’t even travel through his memories by himself without them being a jumbled mess timeline wise…

But he could try… and if he did that, he could find out how Damien was doing.

Wait… Maybe he could ask his dad to make everything the way it was before! Usually when he asked his dad anything, it ended up happening so...

If he fucking could then and there he would slam his head into a wall. Why the hell was he still thinking like a kid!?

Magnus: “It takes a while for that to go away.”  
Lion: “Experience?”  
Magnus: “Tyrion.”

No. No, he couldn’t risk asking father. He… he could just check up on Damien. Make sure that his cousin  _ did  _ in fact go willingly and was having fun and… well, memory travel was complex, but far more so if he traveled through the memories of someone else…

But no, no maybe… Maybe he should just talk to his dad. He was angry, he wanted things back, he wanted Damien back and no one was willing to listen or talk to him about what he felt! But his dad- his dad was always there…

Even if he… he was really angry with him almost killing Konr- Uncle Konrad.

He came and went more often now, but his father was here for now. He could just catch him and talk and just try to figure out what he was thinking, what he was going through. Just reach out, even if he was still mad or not.

He decided and quickly left his room to go to his dad’s study. He was usually there most days when he was back on Macragge, so why wouldn’t he be there now?

He practically sped through the halls of the Fortress, funnily enough not twisting or tripping the entire time. He had been unusually clumsier than ever before these past few months, so him actually being able to go see his dad with not a single trip was like a sign to him.

That is until he saw the doors to his Father’s study open just slightly and out came his cousin.

He came to a screeching halt, watching how Freya could just- she came- she-... “Why were you in my dad’s study.” He demanded in a stone cold voice, watching as she shot her head up and glared straight at him.

“None of yer’ business.” She practically growled at him and started to march from the study and down the hall to wherever she was going.

He looked to the study then back to her, going back and forth before deciding to turn and follow after her. “Hey! Come back, I’m not done talking to you!”

“Well ah am!” She shouted back, marching away. “An hour back from the mountains and am’ already gettin’ hounded!” She growled even as off in the distance, Freki rounded the corner, running to his mistress’ side as they walked away.

“Mountain- Why the feth are you coming from the mountain you-” He stopped himself from insulting her, but he was still beyond cross with her. “Don’t you live here?”

Roboute: *Comes back in and sits down with a pint along with Leman* “Right, what did we miss-”

She stopped dead. “No.” She turned, a sneer on her face. “Fenris is my home. Me’  **only** home!”

He rolled his eyes at this, “If you think that, then why do you live here? Not like anyone here likes having you here-” He paused, realizing what he just said. “I mean- That didn’t come out right-”

Roboute: *Starring for a few seconds* “Alright.” *Slams the entire pint in one go*

She looked at him, appearing as if she was about to pounce, ready to kill him. “What did yer’ just fuckin’ say to me?”

And it was at that exact moment that Aegidius heard and felt his father walk out of his study behind him…

“Freya… I-”

“Well I don’t wanna be here!” She shouted. “I wanna go home! I wanna see my da’!” She continued to shout, appearing to not care at the amount of attention they were gathering. “I wanna see my ma’ again…” She positively whined as Freki nudged her in a desperate attempt to cheer her up.

She petted the Thunderwolf, twisting her hands in the ancient beast’s fur even as the tears started to run down. “But da’ just left me here…”

The burning at the back of his head flared up, a wave of rage and shame rolling through his body and mind. How-How dare she? “Oh what? You’re lonely? So am I! You have any idea what it’s like to have people ignore who you are, always calling you something else!? Do you have any idea how hard it is to lose your only friend and have everyone putting themselves into your business!? I can’t believe how much of a stupid baby you are-”

Roboute: “Great. Puberty.”  
Magnus: “Oh no. I am not looking forward to that.”  
Konrad: “Mine went by in a day.”  
Corvus: “And look how adjusted you are.”  
Lion: “Mine lasted for years and I do not wish that upon anyone.”

“Aegidius!” The commanding voice of his father shouted behind him, making Aegidius freeze completely, feeling as if his very will to live had left him. How did he forget that he was there... “That’s enough.” 

He looked to his father, then Freya, back and forth. She was crying, his Father was so angry and- and angry at him.

Even his dad was betraying him. He was taking her side and just- just ignored everything he said! He only let out a loud, deep breath as he turned away from them both, practically leaving a trail of ice and scorched marble in his path. He didn’t care if his powers were going haywire, he didn’t care if some people were accidentally catching on fire as he passed, he just wanted everyone to stop looking at him!

He needed to get away from them all. He needed to get away from his dad, his Custodes, from Freya from everyone- he couldn’t stand it!

A quick burn in his mind and soon he was tearing open a hole before him in reality, stepping into it without much thought and soon, was stepping through another tear into his room, the tear behind him sealing with a sound akin to a thunderclap.

When he stepped into his room, alone with his thoughts, his temper cooled and he was left with a single thought in his mind.

Magnus: *Leaps to his feet* “What the FUCK!?”  
Jaghatai: “Okay, that just happened.”  
Lorgar: “How improbable is-”  
Magnus: “Impossible! Even I can’t do that!” *Starts ranting and raving at how unfair this is*

_ What did I just do? _ He cooled down as he stood there amongst the remains of his anger, his entire body exhausted as he was filled with horror. How could he have done that?

Why did he think it was a good idea to berate Freya like that? Why did he have to hurt people? He wasn’t like this!

_ I’m a good person! _

He blinked multiple times, trying to get rid of the gold and red at the edge of his vision. What was happening to him!? Why did he lash out like that!? And more importantly…

He turned slowly, looking behind him and to the ground, seeing the piece of charred carpet and marble from where the warp tear had appeared.

How?

How…  _ how  _ did he do that?

He lifted a foot off the ground, preparing to take a step.

Only to collapse under the weight of his own body, his muscles becoming completely loose, his mind feeling as if someone had suddenly given him a concussion.

The door to his room slammed open, Sicarius rushing in just in time to catch him as he went falling to the ground as the world spun.

_ No… I can’t… _

He couldn’t explain this to Sicarius! He couldn’t bear to even  _ think  _ of the look that his guardian would give him, he couldn’t… he couldn’t…

“Br-brather-” He tried desperately to form words, the muscles forming his lips and tongue refusing to fully obey even as what felt akin to the weight of a psychic anvil slowly came to rest over his body.

“Calm yourself, brother.” Sicarius shushed Aegidius, holding him up and checking him over for any other signs of fatigue.

“...m thorry…” He slurred, unable to fully speak his thoughts, too tired to do much of anything else beyond lie there in Sicarius’ arms. “Heaf urts… shpishinn…”

“I would believe so. Do not worry, your Father should be here soon-”

The sound of approaching power armor was unmistakable, the appearance of Roboute Guilliman followed by his own entourage of Victrix Guard and two Apothecaries following him closely. The look on his face was set, disappointment clearly apparent before he realised the state his son was in. Immediately, he was at his son’s side, checking him over.

“On his bed. Now.”

Roboute: “Go me! Be a good dad! Not like Konrad!”  
Konrad: “FRAK YOU.”

At once, the two Apothecaries and Victrix Guard lifted him carefully and placed Aegidius on his bed. Aegidius was obviously fully conscious and even relatively stable, but his muscles… the way his head lulled to the side, some spit running out of his mouth due to him being unable to even swallow...

The Apothecaries took immediate action, making Aegidius sit up and putting his head into a brace even as they took blood samples and began to look him over, applying electrical stimuli to make sure that every muscle was still fully functional.

All the while, Roboute looked over their shoulders as if he was a hawk, his face a combination of worry and anger over what had happened as he waited with all the patience he could muster for the Apothecaries to complete their duty.

It wasn’t long before a trail of curses in the mystic tongue of the Aeldari was heard outside.

“Let me by! Let me by you fools!”

Not a moment later, Eldrad entered the room, rushing over to Aegidius and pushing past the Apothecaries to link his mind with that of his charge’s.

“Farseer Eldrad.” One of the Apothecaries spoke. “The Prince is fine physically-”

“But not psychologically.” Eldrad chided. “I felt the backlash across the entire fortress. He is very nearly psychically dead.”

Magnus: “-OF COURSE HE IS VERY NEARLY PSYCHICALLY DEAD, HE JUST PERFORMED-”

The Farseer’s words made everyone pause, the room being taken by an uncomfortable silence.

“Farseer.” Roboute Guilliman finally interrupted. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean, that Aegidius just performed the greatest of psychic manipulation a user of the aether’s eternal powers can ever hope to do, and did so without a single fault.” Eldrad pressed both of his thumbs to Aegidius’ temples. “Sadly, he is but a child, a child with the strain of the Astronomicon upon his body. By opening that warp tear, he used up every tiny bit of energy in his body,  _ and  _ borrowed some from the empyrean while at it. I am surprised he is even still alive.” It was already bad enough when full aeldari children had tantrums, but a halfbreed who just so happened to have the Astronomicon attached to him was another story.

Magnus: “-AND THIS IS WHY I HAVE ALWAYS TOLD ALL OF YOU THAT WE CANNOT JUST OPPRESS PSYKERS, THEIR VERY BEINGS CAN AND WILL LASH OUT LIKE THIS AND-”

This greatly worried Guilliman who was ready to do anything to help his son. “What!? How was he able to do something like that? You told me he was still in the earliest stages of his psychic training! How can he possibly achieve such a feat?” He moved closer towards Aegidius, wanting nothing more than to stand guard over him personally.

Eldrad ignored the Primarch, focusing on calming the boy’s mind and hoping he wouldn’t be thrown across the room again. The old farseer had a suspicion on why and how this was possible, but was unsure of revealing such information in front of the Primarch and his entourage.

Including any prying ears who were not supposed to be listening. Even here, at the core and safest and most private part of the Primarch’s fortress, the walls had ears.

The child’s mind was swirling in countless thoughts of self depreciation, loneliness, isolation, betrayal and anger. All of these thoughts were running amok in his mind, covering over everything they could and tainting the child’s mind against itself. But what was most concerning was how some of these thoughts were not from the child himself.

“He requires rest and guidance. He is blossoming and requires the guide of not only one such as I, but his mother and father. I recommend his lessons be suspended and he be given full rest until this turmoil can be addressed.” Eldrad wondered if he should reveal to the Lord Regent that very tiny piece of information. Would it make a difference?

Something flared in Aegidius’ mind at that thought, almost as if it was berating and warning him from doing so. This made him nearly reveal everything just to spite what was there.

However, he got a hold of his temper, feeling and knowing that if he did so, it might not be the best for his health… so, instead he went with the second best option.

“If the emissary is nearby and can return, she should. The child requires his mother’s guidance, he will recover far quicker with her to guide his mind through the stages of recuperation.”

“Stages?” Roboute asked. “How long will it take for him to recover from this?”

“A standard week, maybe more, that is if we are lucky. One does not simply ‘recover’ from such an event.” Eldrad stood. “The child needs rest, he may speak, but be warned that his mind is far more open and what he will speak might not be what he truly means.”

“Any other suggestions?” Roboute asked, desperate to help, yet feeling more and more helpless in the situation at hand.

“Let him sleep.” He looked at the many people in the room with emphasis. “Leave the  _ child _ alone.” With that, he walked out, his voluminous, fine robes trailing behind him as he did so. “I suggest all of you leave him be, or perhaps stay and find out what may happen. The marble didn’t do so well before.”

Jaghatai: “Burn. Like what almost happened to Konrad.”  
Corvus: “Ha. Good one.”  
Konrad: “I hate all of you.”

The Marines looked to their gene-father who nodded for them to leave. Saluting, they filed out of the prince’s room and left father and son alone in the large, empty room.

Roboute sat on his son’s bed, looking over his boy. He reached a hand out and brushed some of his curls off his forehead, lingering there as he tried to find the words he so badly wanted to speak. Worry over his state? Reassurance?

He settled his hand on his son’s shoulder, watching the young prince stare up at him mutely, eyes struggling to stay open. “Rest. There will be time for explanations later, so all I ask of you is to rest.” He gave his son a small smile, “you worried me.”

He lingered by Aegidius’ side, watching over him as his son couldn’t stop himself from falling asleep with his father watching over him. His dreams weren’t as nice as the vision before him, but honestly? He’s had worse nightmares before.

**...**

He awoke with a start, looking over to the chronometer by his side and noting that about ten hours had passed. He felt hungry, his head was pounding and he was sore, but…

He could move. He could move just fine in fact! Slowly but surely he swung his feet over his bed and stood on weary legs.

But… Eldrad had said that it would take at least a week for him to be fine! How? How did…

Well, there were weirder things that had happened to him this day.

Magnus: “Or something or SOMEONE healed him.”  
Lion: “You finally stopped ranting.”  
Magnus: “Hush you.”  
Roboute: “It was him. I know it was. We all know it.”

He sighed and flopped back onto his bed, he still felt quite tired. Tired enough in fact that he was tempted to lay back and go back to bed.

But…

It made him feel as if he was avoiding the main problem.

He had now gone off and possibly pissed off half of the fortress of Hera, could have hurt a lot of people and generally might be hated by a couple people now.

And worst of all… he had gone and disappointed his dad.

Oh sure, he was forgiven for now but he would need to talk to him about it later and- and… why the hell couldn’t he tell it to someone who would understand?

Damien would… Damien would understand…

But now, with whatever the hell had happened and with going off on Freya like he did, there was no way his father would allow him to go and find or even talk to him. Why would he? He just proved he couldn’t handle talking to his other cousin...

He had to find Damien, he just had to. If he didn’t then he was just going to keep getting mad and hurting people. He didn’t want to hurt people, he didn’t want to be a burden or be a dangerous monster… He just wanted to make everything make sense again, maybe even get away from people so they won’t get hurt anymore.

He stood up from his bed and quickly made a plan in his mind, he had to get out of there and find Damien.

Roboute: “No…”

What was the best way to find him? He thought quickly and nearly smacked himself when he remembered. The best way to get off the planet was the docks, and if he left through the docks, maybe he could find a transport that would go to where Damien was! And if he did that then- then-

Everything would be alright.

Roboute: “No, no, no! Young man, don’t you dare-!”  
Corvus: “It’s happening!”  
Lorgar: “THE PAY OFF!”  
Roboute: “SHUT UP! ALL OF YOU-”

No! Wait! That was stupid! How in the hell would he sneak out through the docks? There is no way in hell he could get on a transport and not be spotted.

He walked over to his closet and flung open the door, walking in and rummaging through things until-

Roboute: “Young man, I swear-”

“Got it!” He pulled out an all-weather adaptable military combat uniform. Of the type he had whenever he went to training out in the wilds. It was perfect! It had a nice big cowl with it that would help cover his ears, making sure no one would recognise him! That and the fact that it was a uniform meant for a high ranking officer of the Ultramarines Chapter helped and made sure no one would ask questions. Who would ask a Space Marine out of uniform on a transport questions?

Well… maybe not Space Marine. Chapter representative?

Ah well, he would work on that on the way to the docks.

Roboute: *Slams his fists into his throne, disintegrating it* “That is it! Aegidius Guilliman do you have any idea what you are doing right now!? Of all the irresponsible things you could be doing at this very moment, you choose to do the most irresponsible and insane things at the moment-”  
Magnus: “Roboute calm down-”  
Roboute: “-do you have any idea how worried your mother is going to be when she hears about this!? No, you don’t! Because you are acting up and going to put yourself and others into danger because you aren’t thinking straight- I swear when I get my hands on you I won’t let you do something like this ever again- you are grounded mister! Grounded for years!”  
Leman: “...brother, yer just lectured a vid.”  
Roboute: “No I didn’t- wait…” *Looks around and realizes where he is* “...I… Okay. I just lectured a vid.”  
Corvus: “Very thoroughly.”  
Vulkan: “It was frightening and if I was little Aegidius, I would cower at your tone.”  
Roboute: “I… I’m sorry. I lost control. I need to sit down- wait no. I destroyed my throne.”  
Rogal: “Do not worry, brother. Another is being sent up now.”  
Roboute: “Thank you.” *Serfs bring in a new throne and he sits back down, covering his face from embarrassment* “Continue…”  
Lion: “I am never forgetting this.”

**...**

Who would have guessed that an all weather uniform with armour plating in its lining would be heavy?

He had walked halfway around the fortress, luckily and  _ somehow _ not running into any Custodes or anyone that would recognise him. His luck was really looking up, he wouldn’t have gotten this far all by himself before. And now he finally reached his goal, Spaceport Alpha.

The Spaceport was one of the smallest and yet, most important spaceports on the entirety of Macragge, simply due to it being discreet and the private dock of all important personnel of the planet which needed to visit the fortress. His studies on the politics and layout of Macragge really did have a use for him now.

And here, in the very early hours of the morning, Aegidius would catch transport barge I-3213. A barge carrying who knew what since it was under the highest purview, but… it was carrying it towards Qurinius. Well… it needed to make a short drop off on Bastonye, a remote and desolate ice moon, not that far from Macragge. But, details details...! That logistical training he had received was coming in handy now, or else he wouldn’t have had any idea where to look for the right transport or how to read about where they were going.

Aegidius snickered, his legs obeying him smoothly for once even as he squeezed the identification rosette in his gloved hand. It was the key to everything, it opened any and all doors he would need. But above all else, it made sure no one would ask questions. It also made it possible to look up anything and everything.

He couldn’t use his own. That would be just plain stupid, he would be tracked down in an absolute instant by the fortress’ internal systems. He would have to thank Damien for snatching it from that Inquisitor and giving it to him as a gift for his tenth birthday. He had no idea how Damien got it in the first place, but he didn’t want to know. Considering how many times it helped the pair get out of the fortress without anyone noticing, it was a blessing.

Roboute: “He did… WHAT?”  
Konrad: “Your son is a bad influence on mine-”  
Roboute: “You admit it!”  
Konrad: “NO. Yours was the one who stole it in the first place!”  
Sanguinius: “Cute. Dad fight. Don’t care- shut up. Watching vid.”

He turned a corner, heading into the mostly abandoned spaceport proper now. It was due to begin renovations very soon according to all of the signs and building materials scattered around the place, but that didn’t matter. Uncle Rogal always demanded an area get all of its work done before the construction was due, something about his favoured laborers having that time of the month…

Rogal: “Ah yes. They are still there.”  
Lorgar: “Pinche pendejo…”  
Rogal: “Do not speak Colchisian at me, Brother.”

Spotting his target, he straightened his back as much as he could, and made sure that he looked authoritative as he marched directly for the guard standing at the entrance to the transport barge, sizing him up as he went. His court and oration lessons always did tell him that looking important and knowledgeable was an easy way to get people to not ask questions.

Fully enclosed carapace suit, Hellgun, the Inquisition symbol upon his pauldron, some kind of advanced face mask- oh, Stormtroopers! Well, Inquisitorial Tempestus Scion if you wanted the detailed and  _ correct  _ answer. Well, it made sense, it was an Inquisitorial transport, but from what he learned, all he needed to do was act authoritative and let the rosette do the talking for him.

As he approached at a steady pace, making sure his helmet and the tactical cowl from his combat uniform obscured his face even as the Stormtropper held out a hand.

Horus: *Walks in, drinking straight from his bottle of wine* “Why is there noise coming from here-” *Swallows wine and nearly chokes* “What are all of you doing here!? Father will have and then throw a grox!”  
Magnus: “Nothing much.”  
Horus: *Squints then glares at his brothers* “And it’s a main chapter! Do all of you have a death wish!? I just got done talking with Father and-”

“Hold. This transport is in the service of the God-Emperor’s holy Inquisition. None may be permitted entry.”

Attempting to keep his cool at all costs, without saying a word Aegidius raised his arm, making sure that the Scion would see the rosette.

Horus: “Where did he get a rosette!?”  
Leman: “Konrad’s kid stole it. He also finally admitted it!”  
Lion: “And Roboute lectured a vid.”  
Konrad: “No! No I didn’t!”  
Roboute: “I actually lectured a vid… I truly have no shame left.”  
Horus: *Sits down* “Great. Just… Just great. Alright, pause the vid until Father comes in and-”  
Lion: “No.”  
Roboute: “We’re not doing that.”  
Horus: “Why?”  
Magnus: “None of us want to be here.”  
Jaghatai: “So we will force him to let us go.”  
Konrad: “Fool proof plan.”  
Lorgar: “The best.”  
Horus: “What- no. No, bad plan! That’s a very bad plan! Do not do this- I just got done explaining to Father his wrong doings and I do not want him reverting back! I cannot have all of you ruining this because you all want to be petty assholes!”  
Sanguinius: *Stares at Horus then turns back to the vid* “Now I don’t want to stop.”  
Horus: “Sang!”  
Ferrus: “Keep going! We have a bigger reason to do so now.”  
Fulgrim: “I’m going home…” *sniffs*

Luckily enough, it had the intended effect, with the Stormtropper immediately stepping to attention and moving aside without saying so much as another word.

He stamped down his urge to start dancing in place from successfully sneaking in, but did allow himself a grin as he walked on. Not only for his successful boarding but also due to  _ how cool the Tempestus Scions look-  _ no. Time to get serious, no gushing about how cool they are or their equipment! He walked into the main hold.

It was filled to the brim with Tempestus Scions. There had to be almost two dozen in there along with all the other cargo! They were all at the ready, some checking over their equipment, some staring forward, but none of them gave him a second glance.

Finding the seat furthest away from them all, he sat down and secured himself, making sure to lower the cowl of his uniform as much as humanly possible in an attempt to disguise himself.

Truth be told, after a few minutes when the excitement had stopped and the adrenaline had withdrawn itself… it was kind of relaxing. The hum of the warming up engines, the presence of the Stormtroopers being surprisingly calming… it reminded him of just how tired he was...

As he was nodding off, his errant thoughts began to dance in his mind’s eye, the ones he pushed aside during his whole infiltration…  _ What are you doing? Do you have any idea how much everyone will worry? Are you stupid or something? Is this the best idea? _

Then he snorted to himself, shifting to get comfortable in his seat. Well, he certainly couldn’t just go back and climb back into bed. If he just walked out, then maybe someone would tell someone else where they saw a tiny Inquisitor and then they would put two and two together… Then he would get in trouble for not even doing anything wrong and he might as well… Besides, this was for the best. He was gonna find Damien, he was gonna feel better and…

Horus: “Is that what he’s going to do!? Wait… where is Damien!?”  
Corvus: “Becoming a Space Marine on a planet by the name of Quirinius.”  
Lorgar: “Roboute had to bully Konrad into doing it, but he did it.”  
Konrad: “Frak you.”  
Lion: “Konrad has also degenerated to only saying that and insulting others. So business as usual.”

Well, they would all understand, won’t they? In the end, he might get in trouble, but it will be for the best. So he was gonna stay right here. He knew what he was doing.

With his mind at peace, he finally drifted off even as the grizzled looking Tempestor boarded the barge, looking at all of his men before finally, his eyes landed upon Aegidius’ sleeping form. He was about to go over and ask but was stopped by one of his Scion’s reaching over onto his pauldron, which bore the Inquisitorial mark.

Understanding, the Tempestor instead settled into a seat of his own even as the barge finally began to lift off and squads of workers began to flood the spaceport, beginning the renovations.

**…**

When the Overlord finally breached orbit, it did so on the dark side of Macragge. Yet still, the squires that had followed Tarkus, Gorm, Gough and Mortarion had immediately pressed their faces flat onto the viewports on the side of the transport, hoping to get a view.

When they had gone up to the Battle-Barge, the squires screamed the entire way there before staring at the stars in open awe.

All the way to Macragge, the Dusk Raiders had attempted to convince their squires of the true scale of the world, failing to do so as it sounded like complete and utter fiction to even the young ears of their party.

But now, even in the dark, each and every one of the teenagers aboard the craft, knew that not one of the Legionaries had been lying.

A call went out over the vox mitter. “Approaching Spaceport Beta now, E.T.A to landing, three minutes.”

A few seconds later, the first rays of sunlight began to shine, revealing…

“By the gods.” One of the squires swore by his breath. 

“Might not want to say that around here, remember?” Gorm quickly chided.

Lion: “I wonder why.”  
Mortarion: “Great. I’m coming back.”  
Leman: “Reminds me of the time ah’ first saw Terra.”

But it had no effect, the squires were now as close to the viewports as humanly possible, their eyes so wide that they had gone completely circular.

All they saw defined any and all logic. Buildings taller than the greatest towers. Squares bigger than entire villages. A wall bigger than a cliff, and a statue taller than the Castle of Reeve itself.

What was this world of the gods they had just come upon?

The Overlord swung around, landing gracefully in the spaceport just before the Fortress of Hera, it’s ramp lowering with a hiss, its occupants clamoring down it soon after, the Dusk Raiders having to guide their own squires by hand, lest they would remain glued to the viewports of the craft.

Mortarion for his part, while holding Decius, took a big deep breath.

It smelt like metal. It smelt polluted. It smelled like sweat. The noise of labour, the clamour of countless beings accompanying it in the distance, making the atmosphere so much different compared to Vyn.

It felt like home.

He was snapped out of his mind by Friedrich, who motioned them on, and they began to walk towards the massive gates of the fortress.

As Marines, they fit right in, only Mortarion’s wings garnering some strange glances now and then, but aside looking as if they were tourists, that was all that was out of the ordinary. The only stares that lingered were those who looked and walked as Aeldari.

“Who knew that men could create such magnificent creations…?” One squire spoke softly, his eyes roaming the great city.

Looking to Lord Mortarion and the other men, the squire in a thick accent spoke softly to the posh squire, “Naht men. Gods.”

As they walked, they came by the massive statue from before. Carved from the finest marble, it was surrounded by much smaller ones. Those of Imperial Saints and heroes and even those made of wraithbone, showing some Aeldari of legend.

But none were nearly as tall as the one in the center.

When they reached the base of the statue, it was covered in candles, roses and offerings. No doubt it was a site of great pilgrimage for many. The god they worshipped given form.

Mortarion knelt, and, reaching with a hand up to his lips, kissed the hand before pressing it against the massive marble foot of the statue.

“Hello Father.” He spoke openly in greeting, looking up at the distant and stern face of his sire with an unknown feeling even as his three Legionaries followed suit, kneeling in the Emperor’s presence, or at least as close as they would ever get to it now… “It seems it is time for my real test to begin.”

As if on cue, the gates to the fortress opened and out came the Victrix guard. Their blue armour and heraldry shone brightly under the morning sun, even as they approached and surrounded Mortarion and his party.

Mortarion took one last deep breath, looking up at the stone eyes of his father. “Judge me rightly.” He whispered even as he turned to the stern guards as the Captain approached.

“You are Lord Primarch Mortarion?” The Captain asked, loud enough for Mortarion to hear, but quiet enough for no one else nearby to catch on. Mortarion simply nodded and the Captain continued. “I am Captain Cato Sicarius, Equerry to Lord Commander Roboute Guilliman. I am to escort you to the tribunal.”

“I shall give you no resistance.”

The hand Sicarius had kept upon his sword lost some of its tension. Only enough for the Primarch to see, but enough to reassure him that his brother was serious about this…

“Follow me.” Sicarius then ordered, as Friedrich joined them at the lead, and the rest of the Victrix guard surrounded them and they marched off towards the Fortress.

**…**

_ “Hey, it has been a while, hasn’t it?” _

_ He opened his eyes, staring forward. Everything in His body stiff, like it hadn’t moved in so long. The sense of feeling was flitting in and out of His mind. He was staring down now at a woman, standing before Him with her hood obscuring her face. _

**“Is it time?”**

_ She raised a hand, walking forward towards him and resting on the seat of His throne. She looked up at Him, a kind young face who wept for Him. “I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t.” She spoke, an overwhelming sense of dread and sadness in her tone. “So yes, I think it is time.” _

Perturabo: “What is going on.”  
Vulkan: “No clue.”  
Ferrus: “I am super confused.”  
Horus: *Thinking*  _ Is this her? Is that mother? _

_ He still had so much more to do. He still had to help them all, He still had His duty. He had to stay there, if He didn’t- _

_ “It’s time. You have to rest.” She spoke to him again, tone warm and soothing. “You have fought for so long, you have done so much for everyone. You have nothing else to give, and you know it.” _

**“It is time.”**

_ A light, one of overwhelming gold, and a scream, that of a newborn, and a greeting, that of an aged, merciless and stubborn god. _

**“We are going to do great things together Aegidius.”**

Magnus: “Is… is that father?”

Aegidius awoke suddenly, breathing hard as he clamped a hand over his mouth. He looked around him, the Scions not even glancing at him. He sat back and took deep breaths, trying to figure out what the hell his dream had been.

Roboute: “That was a dream?”  
Horus: “Precisely. And one that I think I know the meaning behind… But not enough evidence for it… yet.”  
Lion: “Ugh…”

“What… What the…” He whispered to himself, a strong presence in the back of his mind that burned and ached. The headaches were back and all he wanted to do was be home. But knowing how the Scions were either too still to be awake or silently swaying in their seats that it was too late to go back.

Much too late.

He was trying to figure out what he had been looking at, who it was, what kind of dream that was.

No, no dream. It was too real to be a dream, it felt as if it was real-

He whimpered as his headache intensified. It was like feeling a hammer crashing down onto his head, a red hot hammer that was trying to break through something too stubborn for its own good. He hissed to himself as his mind flailed about, the unknown making his senses wild and his mind panic.

Then, he calmed down, the same breathing techniques that Eldrad taught him during their lessons.

_ What was that? _ He wondered for the upteenth time.

“Entering Bastonye atmosphere.” The call came over the Vox mitter and Aegidius desperately tried to calm himself even as the hammer against his skull continued hitting at full force.

It felt as if it was going to kill him if this continued…

What the hell did he need to do to make it stop?! Why didn’t it stop?!

Roboute: “Magnus! What in the name of Macragge is happening to Aegidius!?”  
Magnus: “I… I don’t know.”  
Leman: “That must have hurt to say.”  
Magnus: “Look, my expertise on the subject of Aegidius’ psychic potential flew out the proverbial window when he  _ fucking teleported! _ ”  
Roboute: “Great. Wonderful.  **Amazing** .”

He clutched his head with one of his hands.

_ What? _ He asked himself.  _ What do you want? _

He tried not to fall unconscious from the amount of pain, desperately holding onto reality.

_ Stop… what will make this stop? _

**Death.**

His head flipped up as the migraine all of a sudden stopped.

Did he… did he just talk back to himself!?

Roboute: “DID HIS OWN VOICE JUST ANSWER BACK!? DID HE JUST  **SPEAK BACK TO HIMSELF IN HIS HEAD!?”  
** Lion: “I believe so. You should have him examined, brother.”  
Roboute: “I WILL IN THE FUTURE.”

His thoughts were violently derailed as the transport barge banked violently. “Brace for evasive maneuvers! We are being fired upon!” The call came out over the vox mitters even as the Scions braced themselves, their Tempestor standing and walking for the cockpit.

Oh no, oh nooooooo… Aegidius held onto his seat, looking wildly between the different Scions as he tried to remember his lessons about the planetary make up of Imperium Secundus… Bastonye, Bastonye… There was something important about Bastonye- Wait, wasn’t Bastonye under siege-

Did the siege break!?

Roboute: “YOUR LANDING ON A PLANET THAT IS UNDER SIEGE?!”  
Lion: “Do not. Lecture. The vid. Again.”  
Roboute: “OH, I’M SORRY- BUT THE CHILD THAT I HAVE AND LOVE IS ABOUT TO GO STRAIGHT INTO HELL YOU INSENSITIVE ASSHOLE.”  
Lion: “Okay. Fine. Be that way.”

He grabbed onto his harness as the barge took another wild bank, before being shaken violently.

Oh-oh shit-crud-crap-fucking frack-

The vox mitter began transmitting again. “Brace yourselves, we are going down at grid square two, of oval seven-”

What did that even mean!? Oh no, he was gonna die- he was gonna die on some random planet- moon! Moon or whatever! He was gonna die on a moon out of nowhere after he snuck out- Oh why did he think that sneaking out was a good idea this was such a bad idea- This was the worst possible idea!

“-maintaining at two one-”

Another explosion and shake and everything suddenly went black.

It… was dark.

Emperor: “HORUS, I THINK WE NEED TO- WHAT THE HELL ARE ALL OF YOU DOING IN HERE.”  
Horus: “They’re watching a vid. So am I. Apparently.”  
Emperor: “WHO THE FUCK GAVE ALL OF YOU PERMISSION TO WATCH A VID WITHOUT ME?”  
Magnus: “We did.”  
Leman: “Us.”  
Perturabo: “All of us.”  
Lion: “Apparently.”  
Lorgar: “Why do we need to wait for you to always be there to watch anything?”  
Ferrus: “You missed out on a lot, Father. A lot of revelations.”  
Fulgrim: “So many.”  
Emperor: “THAT’S IRONIC- BUT I AM THE EMPEROR AND YOUR FATHER, YOU DON’T GET TO WATCH THESE VIDS WITHOUT ME!”  
Konrad: “Oh, is that another of your bullshit ‘Imperial Decrees’?”  
Emperor: “THEY ARE NOT! EVERY SINGLE ONE HAS A PURPOSE AND-”  
Horus: “Father. Sit.”  
Emperor: “PARDON YOU?”  
Horus: “Just. Sit. I have spent too much time explaining to you why you are wrong, sitting ehre with everyone else and having to deal with the fucking travesty that is this family that I am now drinking so much wine I’m trying to make my liver explode. So either you sit down and watch the vid, or I will tell everyone else here what was said between us.”  
Emperor: “YOU WOULDN’T DARE.”  
Horus: “I have no fucks to give at this point. Try me.”

*Silence*

Emperor: *Sits down and grumbles* “BETTER FUCKING TELL ME EVERYTHING I MISSED…”

Where… was he?

He couldn’t feel anything… he… he couldn’t see… hear… smell… what?

Was he dead?

Emperor: “WHY IS IT DARK? WAS IT SO BAD THAT YOU BLACKED IT ALL OUT? WHAT IS THIS, FBI HIGHLIGHTER DAY?”

Wait… light!

A golden tiny light at the end of a… tunnel?

It was getting bigger… slowly but surely it was… he swore it!

It… it was a man…?

It was… resilience.

It was vengeance.

It was wrath incarnate.

It was Vindictus.

It was the Golden Throne with the rotting and writhing carcass of the Emperor.

It was pragmatism made manifest.

The Iron will of man given form.

Emperor: “WHAT THE FUCK. IT'S ME.”  
Roboute: “I knew it. I knew it. I KNEW IT!” *Demands for more ale and chugs it down in record speed* “I fucking knew it!”  
Emperor: “I MISSED A LOT, DIDN’T I?”  
Roboute: “That is all you care about!?”  
Lion: “You’re surprised?”  
Roboute: “No. That’s what I’m pissed about!”

It began to stand, the ancient bones and skin cracking like dry twigs, the skin healing and the skull like face fixing its hollow gaze upon him.

**“Finally.”**

All he could do was lie there, on the ground, staring up at the face of a skeletal nightmare that was rapidly putting itself back together. Where was he-? Snow?

He was lying there in snow, snow and fire and blood and metal… He could barely move, barely breathe. All Aegidius could do was look up at the rotting carcass and now man. “I-” He tried to breathe, his lungs weren’t working- “I’m gonna die-”

Emperor: “THE FUCK? WHY IS HE DYING? WHY IS HE AWAY FROM MACRAGGE?”   
Corvus: “Oh, now you care.”  
Emperor: “YES. I ALWAYS HAVE! WHY IS IT SO DIFFICULT TO BELIEVE THAT-”

**“Death is but a nuisance. It is not as easy to die as me, young one.”** The figure, now aethereal and looking more and more like a regular man with glowing golden orbs for eyes, snapped his fingers.

At once, he took another breath and felt his entire body again. He could feel his bones snapping back into place, his lungs able to take in the chilly air that burned him from the inside out. He could even feel a new pressure on his head like something was scooped up and placed back in. His entire body was screaming in pain as he sat up, rubbing a hand on his face. But once the pain was gone, he felt as if his mind was calm and he never felt better than ever, all accompanied by a raging wrathful fire in his mind that nearly made him get up and fight something.

Then, his temper cooled when the man glanced at him. For a moment, all was still as Aegidius calmed himself and tried to figure out what to say, what to ask and how to ask.

“You… You’re a wraith?”

**“Incorrect.”** The aethereal vision in front of him chided, obviously in a sour mood.  **“Blood of my blood. Idiotic grandson, you would think that you would be capable of differentiating a wraith from an incorporeal manifestation spawned by your own mind.”**

Emperor: “THAT IS AN ASTRAL PROJECTION OF ME.  _ THAT IS AN ASTRAL PROJECTION OF ME.  _ **_THAT IS AN ASTRAL PROJECTION OF ME._ ** ”  
Lorgar: “Say it louder, I don’t think half the galaxy heard you.”  
Emperor: “SHUT THE FUCK UP LORGAR. WHAT IS GOING ON? SOMEONE EXPLAIN NOW.”  
Konrad: “Rescind the Imperial Decrees.”  
Mortarion: “Then maybe we’ll talk.”  
Emperor: “NEVER YOU LITTLE SHITS.”  
Horus: “FATHER.”

“I-Idiot?” He didn’t like being called an idiot… “Not my fault… I don’t talk to wraiths or…  _ things from my mind. _ ”

**“You currently are, and you are the first person in millennia that I have the distinct misfortune of chiding for his own stupidity.”** The wraith crossed his arms.

“I’m not stupid!” He yelled back at his- mind? Grandfather? Wait grandfather- “Grandfather… what the feth...”

**“Are you so sure of that? Considering you only just now managed to catch up to the situation at hand.”** He sighed, floating closer.  **“Get up.** ”

“Hold up, hold up. You are my grandfather? But my grandfather is the Emp-”

**“And people wonder why I called myself Revelation.”**

Roboute: *Slowly turns to look at the Emperor*  
Emperor: “WHAT?”  
Horus: *An accusing glare grows on his face*  
Emperor: “WHAT!?”  
Lion: *Cough* “Totally asshole you.” *Cough*  
Roboute: “Like you’re one to talk… but agree.”  
Emperor: “WHAT ARE YOU ALL-”  
Magnus: *In childish voice* “I’m not inside of Aegidius hurdurhur.”  
Emperor: “ALL OF YOU ARE THIS FUCKING CLOSE TO BEING DECLARED MUTINOUS.”  
Leman: “Oh, you’re finally seein it.”  
Konrad: “Oh wow, people expressing discomfort and an unwillingness to be around someone.  _ Definitely on the same level as planning a fucking heresy. _ ”

“Have you been inside my mind all this time or what!?” This was so weird...

**“May we please not need to recap the last decade of your life and simply say that I have** **_always_ ** **been here and it was simply your own stubbornness which prevented this communication from occurring at an earlier time.”** He sighed yet again.  **“That and your overprotective mother and my over worrying son.”**

And just like that, Aegidius decided he didn’t like his grandfather very much. “Don’t talk bad about my mom… Why would I want to talk to you in the first place, anyway?”

**“Perhaps because I am quite literally the thing that has just prevented you from dying in an accident of quite some measure.”** The wraith pointed behind Aegidius.

He didn’t want to give his grandfather the time of day, but did lean to the side to look behind his figure… And oh… Oh that was a crash site… Oh those were a lot of bodies- Then his Aeldari senses kicked in and suddenly the scent of burning flesh was too much for him, causing the young prince to dry heave, then full on puke to the side.

**“Your welcome, by the way.”**

He couldn’t stop heaving, heaving until it was only half crystalized stomach acids coming up. The acrid stench was forcing him to focus on calming his senses, the acids crystallizing on his lips, even as he tried to wipe them away. He hated it when his sense went haywire like that, it was bad enough to have an unstable mood, but now heightened smell, taste, touch, hearing and sight? Lovely.

He heard a cough nearby and his head flipped over just in time to see one of the Stormtroopers that was face down, attempting to move.

Seeing and feeling the weakness of the trooper, Aegidius winced and forced himself to move, walking on the shallow, snowy ground towards the Stormtropper and grabbing hold of him by his arms.

Only to be looked at by said Stormtropper who proceeded to quickly shrug him off, stand and salute.

“No need to help me sir.” The Scion quickly clarified even as more groans were heard nearby and three more Stormtroppers wandered out of the wreckage of the transport barge. They all looked at each other before their gazes immediately fell on Aegidius, the three newfound Stormtroppers joining the first one in his salute.

“Sir, we regret to inform you that Tempestor Sevan has fallen in the service of the Emperor.”

Lion: “He’s going to blow yet another chance, just like a certain father in the room.”  
Lorgar: “Yup.”  
Emperor: “BOYS. I AM  _ THIS _ CLOSE.  _ THIS FUCKING CLOSE. _ TO HAVING THIS BE DECLARED A DAMN MUTINY. TELL ME WHAT’S GOING ON!”  
Horus: “Don’t you dare. Leave them alone. You exerting your will over us like this is only going to make it all worse, Father.”  
Emperor: “CAN WE FOCUS ON THE VID OR OUR FAMILY DRAMA, AND NOT BOTH AT ONCE!?”  
Sanguinius: “IT IS BEYOND DIFFICULT TO LISTEN TO THE VID WITH EVERYONE YELLING AND NOT PAUSING ANYTHING.”  
Emperor: “SEE? EVEN PRECIOUS HAWKBOY AGREES-”  
Sanguinius: “Don’t. Don’t you use me in this- JUST WATCH!”

Aegidius was quick to wave them down, he had never had to deal with people like them. “B-be at ease-! At ease…” What should he do in this situation? Oh… Oooohhhhhhh… He was the highest ranking officer, wasn't he? Then he suddenly remembered his grandfather was floating right behind him, quickly looking behind him to glance at the spectral figure.

**“No boy, they can neither see nor hear me. I am merely a manifestation upon your eyes and ears from your own mind.”**

Oh, that was good- wait how did-

**“Yes, I can read your thoughts, moving on sometime this decade?”**

His temper flared, he was tempted to sit here until help arrived, just to spite him. But… The Scions probably wouldn’t like that plan of action. “Well, I mean… You four are here. That still means you can serve…? Right?” He paused, watching them, “...please say yes…”

Lion: “Told you. Blowing it.”

They simply stared at him, Aegidius feeling as if their stares were burning a hole in his skull. He did feel the earth shattering groan coming from his grandfather behind him.

**“You. Are. Their. Commander. Command them.”**

_ I don’t know how to command people!  _ He panicked, wondering what he could say, how to get his grandfather to stop judging him and how to salvage the situation-

**“You have quite literally trained for this your entire life! Try to remember anything. Or were your lessons for nothing if you can’t remember even the basics?”**

“Right. Right- Uhh… I believe we can still achieve… achieve our goals… that we set out to do… Yeah, that. We just have to regroup- regroup or-”

Roboute: “Aegidius… Why are you such a bad orator..?”  
Vulkan: “I have no idea.”

Suddenly, the Stormtroppers all immediately crouched and dispersed.

“Vehicles approaching, multiple engines.”

“Surface, no hover noises.”

The chatter between them was on point as the Scions looked onward towards the nearby forest, only for one to look back at Aegidius, who was standing there in shock.

“Be at ease Sir, the noise indicates Imperial transports.” Aegidius nodded and thumbed up at this, not trusting his nerves, nor his voice at the moment.

Roboute: *Sighs while rubbing at his temples* “Well, at least there is some good news.”  
Konrad: “Don’t count on it.”  
Rogal: *Shoves the beam towards Konrad again* “Do it.”  
Konrad: “Never.”  
Rogal: “Then you are lost.” *Takes it back*  
Emperor: *Unholy sounds of confusion*

And sure enough, a few seconds later, multiple Tauros’ burst forward from the forest, going straight for them in the clearing they were in from the ship crash clearing the trees. From what could be seen, Guardsmen and their commissar were arriving though many soured when they took one look at the Scions.

The Tauros’ stopped a few meters away from the ship, the Commissar and his escort dismounting and making their way towards them.

To Aegidius, the old man in the Commissar’s uniform looked oddly familiar… accompanied by… a power klaw on his right hand!?

Corvus: “Oh hey, it’s-”  
Sanguinius: “SHUT UP.”  
Corvus: “Fuckin- fine.”

“Took you long enough.” The old man complained. “We sent out the request for an Inquisitorial look into the matter at hand weeks ago, only for you to get shot down and leave me with four scions and-” He looked past the Stormtroopers, seeing Aegidius. “-what looks like a child of a throne agent, no disrespect sir-” He nodded off at Aegidius, who could only nod in return. “-and you come right on time for us to crack open the city and break them.”

One of the Scions took center stage. “With respect,  _ Commissar _ , the Inquisition does as it is bid only by the Emperor himself. In addition to that, our transport being shot down indicates that either your siege of this city is sloopy, or it has gotten out of control.”

The Commissar’s red eye twitched. “You were most likely shot down by one of the roaming enemy patrols. They often escape the city in smaller numbers, but they are hunted down in due time. Hence why I have come to personally escort you to the field headquarters for the investigation to begin.”

Aegidius was quick to step between the Commissar and the Scions, calming gestures to both sides, “Okay, okay. Look, uhhh… We crashed, it’s no one’s fault- we- we just need to work together, finish the mission and… Not die.”

Roboute: *Stares*  
Vulkan: “I have… heard worse assessments…”  
Fulgrim: “He’s… trying.”  
Roboute: *Facepalms* “Hopeless. Hopeless…”

They all stared down at him, looking at Aegidius as if he were a fish out of water.

“I uh…” Aegidius attempted to explain himself. 

“You are the Inquisitorial representative they sent?” The Commissar questioned.

“Yes.” He squeaked out, wanting to die from embarrassment. Why did his voice crack right there!? “Yes- I am an Inquisitor. I am merely…” He paused as he tried to figure what to say and try to remember what the Inquisitor ranks were and- “I’m merely an Explicator?”

The Scions all looked down at him, the shock evident even with their facial expressions hidden by their masks. “You are a representative of Lord Hector Rex? An Explicator carrying his rosette?”

“Yes.” He didn’t squeak this time, though he was sure he almost quivered on the spot.

The Scions straightened. “We shall not question his word.”

He nearly let out a breath of relief, but knew if he did then his cover would be blown.

“May we know your name, Explicator?” The Scion asked.

Shit. Uh- Uh name. Name-name- _ name-NAME! _ He needed a name- “Explicator Gidius-!” Then he stopped and nearly screamed at himself for his own stupidity. Why did he just call himself Gidius!?

Roboute: *Blinks*  
Jaghatai: “Ahh, the naivety of youth.”  
Roboute: *Smashes empty tankard on head* “More.”  
Leman: “Pace yerself-”  
Roboute: “I will not survive this without copious amounts of alcohol. More. Now.”  
Leman: *Shrugs* “Alroight. I warned ye.”

*More serfs are serving Roboute ale, who is downing it quickly*

Ferrus: “...you are not okay.”  
Roboute: “You think!?”  
Emperor: “I AM BEGINNING TO SEE THE REASONS BEHIND YOUR ACTIONS.”

**“Are you merely pretending to be an idiot or are you just actively trying to blow your already weak cover?”**

_ I am not the best at this okay!? This is my first time going out like this- _

**“No.** **_Not_ ** **ok-”** **  
**

The Commissar stepped forward and saluted. “Explicator. I am Commissar Sebastian Yarrick, acting commander of the 501st Armageddon Steel Legion siege army. I am the one who has requested your organization’s presence upon this world, when nary three weeks ago, I executed the Lord General in charge of the Siege upon this world for having the taint of Chaos upon him.”

Corvus: “Confirmed.”

“Oh. Oh that’s bad.” He stopped himself from grabbing his head in pain.

**“No shit sherlock.”**

Yarrick frowned. “I am surprised you are not aware of the situation, Explicator. I have stated exactly what has occurred in my report.”

“I’m- I’m being tested! Important documents are being… withheld so I can… help fix the situation with just… just my base knowledge.”

The Commissar closed his eyes and sighed. “God Emperor give me strength for doing the proper things in life.” 

Emperor: “IT’S YOURS.”   
Lorgar: “Oh so all of a sudden you don’t care if someone calls you ‘God Emperor’?”  
Emperor: “NOT WHEN IT IS MY HOST WHO IS IN DANGER.”  
Roboute: “SO YOU FUCKING KNEW-”  
Emperor: “NOT IMPORTANT RIGHT NOW-”  
Roboute: “YES IT IS YOU FUCKING-”  
Sanguinius: “SHUT UP OR I WILL CLEAVE ALL OF YOU IN TWO.”

“Sir!” It was one of the Guardsmen that had come with Yarrick. “A breakout enemy patrol is approaching our position, we can run, but it’s only a small one.”

“Good.” Yarrick appeared to be ironically enough, calmed by the presence of the enemy. “We shall ambush and destroy this outwards force and then return immediately to the forward headquarters.”

“We shall inspect the corpses.” One of the Scions added in. “If what you reported is true, the taint of the enemy might already be present upon their bodies.”

“So be it.” Yarrick agreed, and then him, the Guardsmen and the Scions moved into cover, leaving Aegidius to just stand there.

That is, until he got the mental equivalent of a slap to the back of the head.  **“Move boy! Don’t be an idiot and find cover.”**

He quickly darted into cover, though he did wonder about how he was able to do that so quickly and gracefully. He never did anything gracefully…

He could ponder that when he wasn’t about to die.

He felt another mental tap and his head jerk in the direction of where a Scion was in cover, his hellgun already primed. But… he was looking at Aegidius, one of the Scions hands in the air, even as his fingers formed different patterns… wait, those were vox numbers!

**“You actually remember something.”**

Trying to ignore his grandfather, Aegidius reached up beneath his cowl, tuning the inbuilt vox frequency of the helmet until-

“-ITS A-23145 to Explicator, do you read?”

“Yes.” Aegidius quickly answered, happy to have done something right… only to get another mental tap- what?

Oh-

“Yes, I read you loud and clear.”

**“Better.** ” 

Aegidius squirmed behind the rock that he was using for cover, attempting to get comfortable even as he waited, the cool air like that of the Crown Mountains of Hera beginning to finally chill his face as he breathed. His ears twitching under his cowl as suddenly his hearing heightened so badly, he could hear the thumping of his guardsmen’s hearts and the distant echoing crunch of snow of the approaching enemies. Sounded- Sounded like it was… twenty of them? No- twenty two of them. His head started to pound and vision was swimming as his senses were overloading his mind.

This was a terrible idea.

No, horrible, no, the  _ worst _ idea he had ever had!

**“You are just now realizing that?”**

Roboute: “I think he is… I think he really is…”  
Lion: “Perhaps he realizes this because you lectured the vid.”  
Emperor: “WHAT. ROBOUTE FINALLY LECTURED THE VID!? I MISSED THAT!?”  
Leman: “Ye, it was hilarious. Yer missed it.”  
Magnus: “It was glorious. Like a prophecy finally told.”  
Corvus: “The best.”

_ Leave me alone already!  _ He shut his eyes, trying his best to stop his hearing from making him go mad, breathing heavily through his nose to control his haywire senses. Then he thought- they- Everyone could- “Twenty two hostiles approaching.” He spoke into his vox, hoping he could at least contribute something to his new group of adult protectors.

**“You could also arm yourself, it would be most beneficial to both yourself and your newfound allies if you could actually defend yourself.”**

_ Yeah, you’re right. Maybe I can use my psyker abilities to- wait no that’s a bad- _

**“How about using the las pistol that is currently in your holster at this very moment? Or has it escaped your attention, much like the entirety of your childhood.”**

_ Do you have to insult me!?  _ He frantically pulled at his las pistol, the metal felt weird- what kind of metal was it actually it felt both nice and calming yet coarse and unrefined it both was fine to grip but felt as if it could be improved- no stop! His sense of touch was communicating everything to him at the moment from the materials in his las pistol, to how the snow felt through his clothing to the bit of the wind and the shake in his hands- How did he turn this off!?

Roboute: “I… Is this that blossoming that eldrad was talking about?”  
Magnus: “Yes. It is. Aeldari blossom, instead of going through puberty, apparently. They just suddenly start awakening to their full potential senses and require years of meditation and patience to get it under control. Unlike us, who have it creep up on us over time. With it activating now, I wonder-”  
Sanguinius: “I’m sorry, are we here for an Aeldari physiology lesson, or are we here for a vid?”  
Magnus: “You need to calm down. It’s a vid, stop acting like Father.”  
Sanguinius: “...oh, I am acting like Father. Forgive me.”  
Emperor: “I HATE ALL OF YOU RIGHT NOW.”

**“Please. Let me.”**

He felt as all of his senses suddenly deadened, it felt… well… it felt like… like before Grandfather… WAIT!

**“Yes. Because if I had allowed all your senses to flood you like that from the very beginning, I do believe you would have gone crazy by this point in your very short life.”**

_ Can I shoot- _

**“No, you cannot kill me.”**

_ Why is this happening to me!? _

Emperor: “I AM HONESTLY ASKING THE SAME THING AT THE MOMENT.”

**...  
206.M42 - Above Macragge, Void Stalker Class Battleship - ** **_Isha’s Blessing  
_ ** **...**

She didn’t know how much longer she could handle being around these stuffy, backwards, ignorant Craftworlders. Sure, she had no room to talk seeing as she was born a Craftworlder then became a Drukhari, but still. She had a limit to her patience with these annoying and quite frankly overly demanding assholes she had the displeasure of being cordial with.

Roboute: “Oh lovely! I get to see her again.”  
Magnus: “Oh no.”  
Roboute: “What?”  
Magnus: “Brother… do you recall what I said about Aeldari mothers and how protective they are of their children?”  
Roboute: “...oh no.”  
Vulkan: “Great. Amazing.”  
Jaghatai: “I wish I brought more dried meats for this.”

Damn the Seer Council and damn the Craftworlds who continued to think that they could live out by themselves in a rapidly deteriorating galaxy. She didn’t care if they were protected by their own unbeatable, god-like ten foot tall Aeldari warrior and Farseer, she was beginning to lose her patience with their antics.

But what nearly made her lose her patience was them attempting to but into her business and try to inquire about her son. Always the Seer Council was asking questions about Aegidius and his growth, his status and how he is shaping up. She never understood why they took such a great interest in him, seeing as how they demanded she practically whore herself out to a human ambassador for the Treaty… She was eternally grateful that it had been Roboute that she would marry and have a child with, though her temper still flared at the mere thought of those smug Aeldari who looked down on her to partner with a human.

But at least now she was going back to Macragge, a planet that had rapidly become home where she could be back with her partner and her son. The last time she saw her son, she could tell he was coming close to his blossoming cycle, which she had no idea how to feel about.

He was only still in his first cycle yet now he was going to blossom soon? Her son was growing up too quickly and she wasn’t there for him. She was sure he was going to have questions, he was going to need her to guide him through his newly heightened senses and how to deal with them… And oh, she was not looking forward to guiding him through the new feelings and thoughts he will no doubt be assaulted with soon enough.

But despite all of that, she smiled. She would get to see her boy. It had been close to a full Macraggian cycle since she had last gotten to spend any semblance of time with him whatsoever. And it just so happened to be just before Aegidius had gone and done…  _ something _ to his uncle.

Emperor: “WHICH UNCLE IS SHE TALKING ABOUT? AND WHAT DID HE DO?”  
Rogal: “Aegidius had nearly killed Konrad with a massive burst of his psychic powers.”  
Emperor: “HOW!?”  
Magnus: “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

She squeezed one of her hands into a fist, careful to not break her perfectly manicured nails. 

She closed her eyes and focused as a bout of anger came up yet again. She was still wearing the full robes since her meeting with the Seer Council, not having the will nor really the time to fully re-dress herself in her standard garb, so quick was her haste to leave that distasteful collection of stubborn minded Aeldari.

“My Lady. Making a stable orbit around Macragge now.”

She loved her kin. Lived and breathed for the Ynnari, for Ynnead. But sometimes she had to admit, the simplicity and straightforwardness of humans was a welcome sight. At least humans didn’t insult you in the first breath, ask for something the next, then refuse to give insight on a vision by the third. And at least human docking procedures weren’t three hours long due to needing to perform some ritual or another...

“Good. Make ready a craft for my descent immediately.”

“Yes, my Lady.”

With no further words to her Aeldari crew, she left the bridge and made way for a nearby hangar and boarded the prepared transport alongside her retinue.

Sometime later, they landed at Spaceport Beta, luckily with no fanfare unlike the first times when she had returned, expecting a quick march into the fortress, only to run into a full contingent of any Ultramarines that could be spared at the time.

Luckily enough, her husband was more accommodating than her kin, and thus, the only thing to welcome her at the moment was…

“Visarch.” She greeted her second in command as she walked down the ramp and directly towards the fortress, the Visarch following her without a single word even as they stepped onto the land train to take them deeper into the actual fortress.

They stood in silence as the train’s engines warmed and they finally departed. Yvraine feeling the boring stare of the Visarch upon the back of her skull.

“Has something of note occurred while I was away?” She asked in the cliche tone of Aeldari with a refined Craftworld accent. “Or will you bore me with the talk of pleasantries and the inane rambling of the common Aeldari?”

“No.”

Rogal: “Yes.”

She paused, wondering why he would so blatantly lie to her. Ears reflexively flattening, she regarded him fully. “Explain why you have decided to shorten your lifespan this moment.” 

“Are you perhaps referencing my mannerism, my statement or your own hidden anger?”

“Seeing as how you would do anything to anger me further for some inane reason, how about we address not only your cheek but your capacity to avoid the question?”

“Perhaps it is simply because I have already seen that your self set task to the seer council had failed before you had even left, not heeding the advice of your retinue nor even mine own.” His helmed head turned to stare out of the train’s viewport at the fast approaching secondary walls of the fortress.

Magnus: “Ah yes, Aeldari… reminds me why I prefer to speak in Gothic to my wives.”  
Roboute: *Shudders*

The snub did not escape her attention, but she decided it wasn’t worth the hassle to keep trading word shivs with Visarch. The largest part of her own being detested not having the last word, which urged her to gently speak that which she hadn’t spoken of to her retinue yet. “They keep asking about him. For what reason, I have none to supply.”

“Curiosity killed the feline.”

She stared at him, a finely trimmed eyebrow raising just slightly to indicate her confusion.

“A Mon-Keigh proverb. One which indicates that the council’s curiosity shall never be sated. Even if they gaze upon the spawn every second of his every cycle, they shall never stop their inquiries, nor their pointless wonder.”

She snorted at this, “Of course. They demand to stay where they are, insult me for doing the exact action they wanted me to do then have the audacity to ask about how my own child is doing. They have decided that until Aegidius is of age and powerful enough, they will consider moving to human space.” She paused, wondering what their game was.

Darkness fell over them and the lumens of the train came on as they entered the tunnel in the second wall of the fortress, the doors to said tunnel closing behind them, even as they left it a few seconds later, being presented the full and splendid glory of the Fortress of Hera. The banners of countless Space Marine chapters and Imperial Adepta flying proudly upon its massive bulwark, the Aeldari runed tapestries glowing and flowing elegantly in the wind alongside them even as the midday sun shone brightly.

Fulgrim: “Wonderfuly done Rogal.”  
Vulkan: “It looks beautiful.”  
Perturabo: “iT lOOkS beAutIfUl.”  
Rogal: “Thank you, brother.”  
Perturabo: *Presumably the noise of an aneurysm*

“As much as my hate flows freely and openly for the Mon-Keigh, the  _ arrogance _ of these seers refusing to shed the old ways angers me greater. Their kind will never learn to adapt.” The air around the Visarch sparked, his anger so great at the mere thought of the Seer Council.

“Hate them as much as your heart wills it, but do try to remember basic manners and courtesy when around them, lest I be forced to separate your head from your shoulders.” Though her words held little bite to them, her focus was elsewhere. The Fortress of Hera certainly changed even further since she was here last, it was almost unrecognizable from orbit. She wondered how her son was taking to the changes? Her people? Were they accepting the change and attempting to walk forward, or were they doomed to follow in the Visarch’s footsteps and continue to hold onto petty hate in their hearts?

The train finally entered the main station inside of the Fortress proper, slowly coming to a halt and opening its doors, even as the Visarch took the lead and walked out. “A Primarch has come to visit.”

Emperor: “IS IT MORTARION? IT IS, ISN’T IT?”  
Mortarion: “Now  _ how _ would you guess that one, Father.”  
Emperor: “...SHUT UP.”

She stood and began to walk from the train as well in one graceful, fluid movement, despite how she felt. “Wonderful. Must we endure yet another parade to welcome them here, or is this an event that most would want quiet? From what you have shown so far, I am assuming it is the latter?” She cooed, calling for Alorynis to follow her. The large Gyrinx flowing from the train and prowling alongside her, exuding an aura around him that showed his disdain for trains.

“Subtlety is how he was greeted, however, this one is different. Pestilence once gripped him, but now not only is it gone, it has been replaced.”

“And I have no doubt that all will be revealed in due time.” Though what has replaced the pestilence, she had no idea. She recalled that Roboute spoke of one brother whom he fought that had been wracked with pestilence during the Plague Wars. What could cause a Daemon Prince to not only escape Chaos itself, but be free from the taint of their patron? Questions she wanted to ask, but knew better than to ask Visarch. They would be standing there for hours if she did. Once again, she would have to rely on the dependable patience and support from her husband if she wished for information.

**...  
206.M42 - The Fortress of Hera - Office of Roboute Guilliman  
** **...**

Roboute sat behind his desk, Rogal to his right, both in silence, awaiting the inevitable knock to come in but a moment.

The news that had come from Friedrich ahead of his return was…  _ surprising _ to say the least. Immediately followed by a moment of shock, followed by anger, followed by contemplation.

From Friedrich’s detailed report, Mortarion’s position and situation had been revealed rather quickly.

The Emperor had something to do with it.

Emperor: “AM I BEING THAT DAMN OBVIOUS?”  
“Indeed-”  
“-you are.”  
Emperor: “NO ONE ASKED YOU TWO.”  
“Technically-”  
“-you-”  
Emperor: “SHUT IT SHERLOCKS.”  
Horus: “When did they come back…?”  
Lion: “Don’t question it.”

It went far beyond the claims of just Mortarion and his own gene-sons. The purity of their blood and gene-seed as proven aboard in the Apothecarion aboard the  _ Iron Will  _ and Friedrich’s description of their newly returned brother had made sure to stamp a rather firm image of their father’s involvement in both Rogal’s and Roboute’s minds. 

One did not simply abandon his patron god, clear himself of taint, declare his loyalty to those he had once betrayed and actively fought against only to suddenly stop and sprout the angelic wings of an Imperial Saint. 

A knock on the door.

Roboute closed his eyes and took a breather. “Enter.”

The door opened, revealing Sicarius along with the Victrix guard. “My Lord, at your command.”

“Send in only him and guard the rest.” There was no point in telling him to stay. Neither Sicarius nor the Victrix guard nor Friedrich could do much to harm an actual Primarch, even one without any weapons or armour.

Sicarius bowed his head and stepped back out, being replaced by the much more massive form of Mortarion. And in the shadows cast by the morning sun, the shade cast upon their brother truly made him look positively angelic.

If one forgot that he was once a traitor.

Mortarion stepped forward, the doors closing behind him, nervousness becoming evident on his face as he carefully eyed both Rogal and Roboute. Brothers he had done a great many terrible things to, in the past.

“You must have many questions.” He began, the voice not sounding like Mortarion, reminding both loyalists of another voice that they once had loved.

Lorgar: “Wow, you sound just like Father, Morty.”  
Mortarion: “Shut it, choir boy. And do not ever call me Morty ever again if you value your head remaining on your shoulders!”

From the healthy glow on his skin, the lack of rot and wear in his body, all the way to how he held himself… It took both brothers a single moment to remind themselves that this supposedly was the same person who once ingested poison to stay alive, the same person who lived purely by spite. The same person who led the charge against Terra itself in the first wave. The same person that Roboute had only clashed swords with not too long ago in fact, where they both attempted to kill each other. It was almost an insult to look at this man and not see a shred of who he once was, while remembering the misdeeds he had performed willingly.

“Enough to keep us here for decades, but I shall make this brief.” Roboute ground out. This was vastly different to when he accepted Konrad back into the fold.

Well, this time, Aegidius wasn’t here to sway his decision. This time, he was going to judge his brother and find out for himself if the man before them deserved his so-called, “second chance”.

“Your story.” Roboute began. “It sounds like a tall tale told to children by the priests which prey upon the people of the Imperium.” Roboute warned, even as Rogal only remained standing, staring at their brother whilst adorned in his full armour, Storm’s Teeth maglocked to his side, ready to kill at it’s master’s will.

Jaghatai: *Nods appreciatively* “Nice.”

“I do not intend to swindle, lie or cloud your judgement… brothers.” He spoke softly. “I have come to offer myself and my service in penance for my countless crimes against both our father and the Imperium.” He sighed. “My mind was clouded by my anger, my self induced spite, it allowed for Horus to sway me to his cause and eventually… it allowed me to fall into the service of Nurgle… unwillingly.”

He swallowed the lump forming in his throat.

“From then on, my… my actions are not my own, not truly. My free will was a falsehood. Strings held by a puppeteer, those were the result of my actions.”

Mortarion hung his head, biting his lip, before reaching for the edges of his hood, and slowly lowered it.

Silent surprise further echoed throughout the room as he was revealed in full to his brothers.

His hair, shoulder length and beautiful with every meaning of the word, flowed like the white silk it appeared to be made of. His face reminding both of their father, and his eyes… his eyes shone a marble like gold. The white hue making evident a violent change. “And I have paid for it with my soul.” He explained. “Father… he…” His pupils grew large and his breathing grew ragged. “He… he stripped it. He crushed and burned it. He made it cinders and gave them to Isha.”

He looked up, his voice now steady and self-assured. “Like it or not brothers, I am not the Mortarion, not even the kind of Primarch that either of you have ever known. I am simply me, as Father always intended.”

Emperor: “EXACTLY AS I WANTED.”  
Mortarion: “....”  
Emperor: “WELL, MAYBE NOT THE AELDARI FEATURES.”

“You do not get to invoke our Father for your whims.” Rogal quickly cut through, “You stand here before us, wearing the face of a traitor brother with the voice of our Father, yet you wish for us to accept that the Mortarion we once knew is no longer?”

“Precisely.” He nodded to Rogal, who had a flash of pure anger flit through his eyes.

Roboute, who continued to sit at his desk, contemplated what he should do. The Mortarion that he fought during the Plague Wars was an entirely different person, even more so from the original man that came from Barbarus. He knew the original brother would have stood up to the challenge that Rogal issued just then, he wouldn’t have stood for such an insult. Instead, he merely brushed him off and ended the confrontation right there.

From how he looked, how he spoke, how he held himself, how he acted… Roboute just knew that what his brother spoke of was true.

“We have only the word of you and your followers to go by.” Roboute stated. “Or is there someone who can confirm these words? Beyond your sons.”

“Their squires.” Mortarion answered freely. “And my son. My true son.”

“Your true son?”

“The one of mine and the blood of Isha. Of her own womb.”

Magnus: “And there is the confirmation. You truly are a father, Mortarion!”  
Mortarion: “I am still beyond disgusted that I laid with a xeno, a witch, a goddess, all rolled into one being. The same being that will haunt the me of the future for all of eternity.”  
Lorgar: “Don’t forget, it’s one that owns your soul.”  
Mortarion: “Like the Chaos Gods with you?”  
Lorgar: “Fuck- Shut up.”

Oh. Oh wonderful, now they had a demigod running around his Fortress…  _ if the claims were to be believed _ .

Roboute sighed and looked up at Rogal, who in turn simply nodded. 

Roboute pressed a rune on his desk. “Sicarius. Send in the squires, and the son.”

Now they would see if Mortarion really was speaking the truth.

**...  
206.M42 - Bastonye, Wildlands  
** **...**

“Twenty-two hostiles, approaching in scattered formation.” One of the Scion’s called into the vox even as Aegidius took a peek, and sure enough…

Traitor guardsmen. Ones corrupted not long ago according to his studies… no outward marks of mutation, but his aeldari eyes saw the eight pointed star scratched into their unkempt armour. Early stages of corruption, that he could be sure of.

“Wait until they get closer, and pick your targets relative to your position.” He heard Yarrick order over the vox. “On my signal, if that is fine by you Explicator?”

He had to remind himself that Yarrick was talking to him, and his grandfather did the same with another mental tap. “Ye-yes.”

He breathed shallow breaths as he waited, his las pistol at the ready even as his breath turned to white mist in front of his eyes, the cold beginning to grasp at his fingers beneath his gloves from the las pistol he was gripping so tightly.

The enemy were getting closer. Close enough for even the regular humans amongst them to pick up the sound of their footsteps.

Could he do it? They probably all expected him to shoot as well, to kill. He’d never killed someone before, even if they are traitors… Before, when things went wrong, people died, yes, but… But they…

He didn’t see it happen. So it was easy to pretend he didn’t kill anyone.

**“How long are you going to hold onto that? You have killed people before, this time it will be with your own two hands and you will watch as life drains away from them. How is this worse than causing the deaths of untold many before? How many do you think were innocent?”**

Konrad: “He’s not wrong.”  
Vulkan: “Even I know this.”  
Horus: “You’ll never change, will you?”  
Emperor: “I AM TELLING HIM THE TRUTH.”

_ I’m not listening to you. I didn’t kill people, I don’t kill people.  _ He listened, straining for the order to attack, all the while his stomach weighed heavy on him.

**“Grow. Up. Remember the time you had a tantrum at your last tutor who called your mother a whore and your father a degenerate? What did you do? You murdered him, erased him from existence. But did you stop there? No. You didn’t.”**

_ That’s not the same! He made me angry, and I just- _

**“Oh, so it’s fine if they make you angry? I thought you didn’t like killing people. Pick one.”**

_ I don’t like it! I hate it! I hate knowing that so many people are dead because of me- _

**“Because you had no control, no one to stop you. After he was gone, what happened? Angels, a warp tear, Daemons. People in Macragge Magnas Civitas died, human and Aeldari and it was your fault. How about when you had another tantrum before your mother came home? You sent your own Uncle’s ship off course, not to mention you threw another tantrum when Damien was taken away. You nearly killed a Primarch, you caused untold millions to die and you are sitting here whining about not being able to shoot at a person who is going to try and kill you. Grow. Up.”**

Aegidius was staring at the las pistol in his hands, it was shaking violently in his grasp as he waged a war in his mind against the Emperor. He didn’t want to think about it, he didn’t want to be here- he wanted to go home.

“Fire!” The command over the vox made Aegidius snap out of it, stand and take aim out of pure reflex and muscle memory from the obscene amount of time he had spent on the range back on Macragge.

He took aim at a nearby traitor.

He squeezed the trigger, making sure to breathe out and steady his heart beat.

The las pistol shot.

And hit his target square in the chest. Center mass, perfect shot.

He froze in his spot, the sounds of las weaponry going dim as he zeroed in on his work. He watched as the man he shot fell to the ground as his body went cold. Aegidius couldn’t stop the chill of horror go through his body as what he had just done registered in his mind.

Corvus: “He’s freezing up. Much like the many during my rebellion on Deliverance.”  
Fulgrim: “Ah… Yes, that would happen, wouldn’t it?”  
Corvus: “When people aren’t trained and desensitized to killing, of course they freeze up. Even if he did kill people before, there is a huge difference between it happening outside your vision, and actually committing it.”

He just killed someone. He just killed someone with his own hands, of his own will. No blind rage, no out of control psyker powers, no influence from anything outside of him or his mind… Just him. It was him who pulled the trigger, it was him who just ended someone else’s life. His vision blurred as he felt his throat constrict, he stared at the body and just wanted to scream.

Then the next moment, everything moved again and a shot of adrenaline shot through his body, making him look up from the dead body and to the rest of the battle.

The scions and the guardsmen had done a fine job of killing the rest. They fell quickly for the most part. Leaving less than a dozen.

The remaining traitors charged, their zeal evident upon their spoiled minds. Their target, the closest thing they could get their filthy hands on.

In this case, it was Aegidius.

He watched as one of the guardsmen, a man of fair skin and hair, charged towards him.

He raised his las pistol, attempting to aim in time before the mad man reached him.

He took aim. Pressed the trigger.

And missed him by a hair.

Roboute: *Squeezes throne so hard the armrest breaks*

He tried again, and this time, it had an effect, hitting the shoulder of the mad man, but not slowing his charge for even a second.

Roboute: *Breaks armrest clean off*

The man would reach him now, indeed, with his enhanced vision, Aegidius could see the man beginning to leap.

He closed his eyes.

Only to quickly open them once he heard the purr of a chainsword. It’s teeth rattling like a thousand curses as they spun, its engine going from a steady skipping purr to a roar.

The man in front of him suddenly turned into a shower of gore. Bits of bone and organic matter going in all directions as the chainsword swung into his midriff, swiftly sawing him in half even as the distinct view of Yarrick took up the entirety of Aegidius’ view.

The next died just as fast. The massive power klaw that Yarrick wielded upon his right arm closing upon his head and squeezing it into mush, painting the Commissar’s carapace armour and greatcoat in the blood of the traitors.

But, he was not finished yet.

Setting aside the chainsword, Yarrick un-holstered his bolt pistol, taking aim and firing two shots, both hitting and killing two guardsmen. And then, without so much as a blink of an eye, he looked to his side, where another was charging him with a crude weapon, his rage having taken him completely.

The man’s head exploded. The Bale Eye laser-bionic from Yarrick delivering the blow.

Roboute: *Sighs and collapses back onto his throne with relief*  
Leman: “I can appreciate a good show o’ skill.”  
Corvus: *Chuckles* “The old man still has it.”

Aegidius simply stood there. Breathing erratically as Yarrick turned back to him, seeing him in his pitiful state.

“Explicator, are you alright?”

Aegidius’ hands were shaking horribly, he refused to let his tears fall and he was sure he hadn’t controlled his breathing yet. He just couldn’t stop looking at the dead bodies, the one he killed and- and- He couldn’t speak, he barely registered what was going on around him.

A slap, and his cheeks stung as his head was turned sideways.

He quickly looked back, right in time to see the Scions aim their hellguns for Yarrick, even as he stood, looking down at Aegidius. “Snap out of it Explicator. You are unhurt.” 

He looked back, still on the brink of tears, but the world came back to him.

**“Good.”**

“Thank-thank you.” He stumbled out, the Scions slowly standing down even as Aegidius looked up and his hood fell back, causing Yarrick’s eyebrows to immediately furrow.

Ferrus: “That didn’t last long. Glad we didn’t bet on it.”  
Jaghatai: “Would have been too easy.”

Aegidius blinked a few times, wondering what he did this time, before he felt the chilly winds on his ears. Then his eyes widened as he realized that not only was his cover blown, but now everything just got a whole lot more complicated. He slowly reached up and grabbed his hood, every so slightly moving it back into place, not looking away from Yarrick and his severely disappointed gaze.

Sanguinius: *Barely held back laughter* “I’m… I’m sorry- but the image…”  
Roboute: *Rubbing his eyes in his own shared embarrassment* “He is young…  _ very  _ very young…”  
Horus: “You… don’t have to explain it to us brother-”  
Roboute: “It is not for you. It’s for my own sanity.” *Downing more ale*

The Scions, for their part, appeared to not know what to do. Simply standing there.

Luckily enough, the other Guardsmen appeared to not have noticed.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity.

“Crown Prince.” Yarrick spoke, loud enough for Aegidius and the Scions to hear, but not for the Guardsmen.

“Heh…” Aegidius smiled nervously, before ever so slightly nodding his head.

Another eternity of silence, before…

“Gidius.” The tiniest evidence of a smile appeared on Yarrick’s lips and he let out a strangled laugh.

“Crown Prince.” One of the Scions spoke back. “You are still the highest in command then  _ sir _ , assuming you can provide identification. The  _ real  _ identification.”

Aegidius nodded and dug through his clothes and pulled out his own personal identification rosette, given to him by his Father so long ago. He offered it to the Scions who scanned it and before long were now standing at attention before him.

“Your Majesty.” The Scions spoke in unison, carefully handing back his rosette. “It is genuine.”

“Just-just stand down-” He tried to hush them, seeing that Yarrick was keeping it a secret from the other Guardsmen. “I-I just-”

“What are you doing here truly, if I may ask… Explicator.” Yarrick asked.

“Okay look- I’m sorry I lied. I really am- truly. I just… Look, it was really, really, really stupid. So stupid that now that I got sense knocked into me, I realize it has to be the dumbest thing I have ever done in my life. I’m here… completely by accident…” As Aegidius spoke, his voice cracked more and more as he explained, but not really explained. “I wanted to take the transport further on, I didn’t mean to come here- especially since we got shot down! I just… I just wanted…” He trailed off, shoulders sagging, “I wanted to stop being lonely and feeling trapped. I’m sorry...”

Yarrick sighed. “We shall keep the charade of an Explicator for the time, not just for the sake of the men, but for  _ your  _ sake as well.”

“What-what? Why?”

“Primary target.” One of the Scions answered. “You are an Alpha grade package for any and all enemy units.”

Yarrick nodded. “Therefore, keep up the charade. We shall return to the forward headquarters, and send a hymnal to Macragge, and if we are lucky, you will be out by the end of this day.”

Roboute: *Sighs in relief* “Oh… thank… just… thank fuck that people with good common sense are still alive in that millennium.”  
Perturabo: “Truly a rarity.”

The young Emperor nodded at this, he had no choice but to give up on his crazy idea. It was best to just do as the Commissar said and do his best to not die.

“Sir!” A guardsman came running. “Sir! More of them inbound!”

Emperor: “NOT CLEAR, NOT CLEAR!”  
Lorgar: “How dare you- Stop referencing them!”  
Emperor: “OH, I’M SORRY, YOU ALL CAN BE SHIT HEADS TO ME BUT I CAN’T REFERENCE ST-”  
Sanguinius: “SHUT UP.”

“More? They rarely travel out this far.” Yarrick responded.

“No sir, we got a report through the vox call, the siege has been broken. Something big led the charge, we lost contact with all our forward positions by the main city, the artillery divisions at the front went next.”

“They are spilling out.” Yarrick made his realization clear. “Our forward positions were covered by armour, weren’t they?”

“Yes sir, Leman Russes for the most part.”

“Then they couldn’t have…” Yarrick trailed off and went quiet, his head perking up.

“Sir-”

“Quiet!” He demanded, and listened, Aegidius doing the same, his enhanced hearing picking up on what Yarrick most likely did as well.

It… it sounded like engines… Heavy engines…

“The corruption.” Yarrick suddenly spoke, his only non-augmented eye going wide. “It was bigger than I first thought.”

The sound of the engines got louder, now accompanied by the squeal of tracks. 

A cry came from one of the guardsmen, “Those aren’t ours!”

Yarrick shouted in turn. “To the Tauros’! We are leav-”

He was deafened by the sound of heavy cannons. 

In the next moment, Aegidius was thrown to the snow covered ground, his own feet being swept from underneath him by something inside of his own body. And in the next moment, the tree’s next to them exploded. He covered his head, knowing better than to look at an impact site. He could hear more heavy cannons, the sounds of exploding shells and trees all around him as he stayed firmly pressed to the ground.

Slowly, the sounds of the Scions, the Commissar and the guardsmen came back into mind, the ringing in his ears subsiding as he gingerly looked up from his position…

Only to see many,  _ many  _ tanks approaching them with what looked like  _ a lot _ of traitor guardsmen.

“Oh, frak.”

**...**

Sanguinius: “What the- oh come on! Get back to Aegidius!”

When she was approaching her husband’s study, she felt she could breathe easily now. Visarch’s barbed words were getting on her nerves and all she could think about was getting back to her husband, finding out what was going on and soon be able to hug her darling boy.

Though, now that she paid attention to the air around her, it felt off. To her, the air felt clean, untainted. Not like the usual stench of Macragge, one she had gotten used to over the years, but notably it was absent.

“What, by the gods, caused this?” She muttered to herself.

“I would recommend you enter your mon’keigh ravisher’s study and ask him your inane questions.” Visarch bit out, not in the mood to answer anything she would ask.

Jaghatai: “Hurk…!”  
Roboute: “Get over it already!”  
Vulkan: “No.”

Yvraine simply rolled her eyes at this, “Once again, your irritation adds enough to the conversation that I wonder why I did not ask for it earlier.”

“At your pleasure, my lady.” The Visarch explained as they entered the long hallway leading to her husband’s study. Where no doubt right now, the newly returned Primarch was discussing things with Guilliman.

But as they walked towards the office, Yvraine began to feel… strange…

It was almost as if a drug tainted the very air they walked in. A calming scent lingering over from something almost… almost ethereal… almost… god like.

What was…

“Visarch… do you perhaps...?”

“Yes.” He answered without hesitation this time. “I feel it as well.”

As they walked towards the doors, it only got stronger, making Yvraine realize that it was not in fact a smell, but a psychic phenomena.

What could be strong enough? What… What was causing this? It felt… it almost felt as if she and her escort were walking towards the collective embrace of all of their mothers…

She picked up her pace and was practically a blur as she approached his study, barely having the time to thank the Victrix guard who opened the doors for her- or rather they were already going inside and she happened to cut in front of them.

Her demand for answers was halted in her throat when she took one look at the being before her. White wings, an aura of peace, the silks that held a very familiar symbol… She had to brace herself against a nearby wall to keep herself from falling to her knees.

From where she braced herself, she could finally see that not only was this… godly being… here in her husband’s study, but so was him, his brother, many marines she couldn’t fathom the names of, some marines she thought could be marines but looked like overgrown humans and… a set of younger humans? Confusion was evident on her face as she watched the scene before her.

Roboute had been running his hands along his face, exhaustion and exasperation emanating from him. Rogal, next to Roboute, looking conflicted and shocked. The Praetorian appearing as if he was on the verge of collapsing and or punching something. The marines around her in their armor were still, shocked into silence. The non-marines were standing still, stoic and silent, yet looked as if there was not a single strand of fear in them. And then, the young boys…

They stood before so many, yet still could stand there before them all. “...and that is what happened, my lord.” One spoke up, finishing their tale.

Sanguinius: “Fucking kill me. KILL ME.”  
Horus: “I really, really want to know what happened on that planet…”  
Mortarion: “Ha. No. None of you will ever know.”  
Ferrus: “You want to bet?”  
Fulgrim: Can we talk about how Yvraine is having a heart attack on screen?”  
Emperor: “PROBABLY BECAUSE SHE IS LOOKING AT THE CONSORT OF ONE OF THE AELDARI GODS WHO IS EXUDING PURE ENERGY OF THE GODDESS OF LIFE AND FERTILITY AT THIS MOMENT.”  
Fulgrim: “...fair enough.”

She could care less about whatever it was they were talking about, she looked back to the winged man who looked content to continue standing there in the now cramped study with- Where the hell did that child come from!?

The child turned to her, giving her a small grin and a wave. She paused, then waved at the boy, then felt the gaze of the winged man on her. She gulped and looked up at him, into the hooded figure’s face and then… it clicked.

The essence of life itself was swirling within him, the aura of one she and so many Aeldari knew by heart. There was only one being that this power could come from, the same being who was so alike to her own god, yet stood on the opposite side of the line of life.

“You are Her consort, aren’t you?” She spoke up, her declaration cutting through the air of the study, unknowingly gathering the attention of all who were present. “I can feel it, you have Her power, Her presence inside of your soul.”

The man smiled and bowed his head.

“May Her and the Emperor’s blessing be upon you, emissary of Ynnead.”

Mortarion: “I think I may vomit…”

He rose back to his full height even as she felt the emotions inside of her begin to churn. Feelings which she had not felt since….

She held out a hand and asked, as meekly as a dormouse. “May I?”

The consort simply nodded, stepping closer. Yvraine cautiously raised her hand, and pressed it firmly against his chest where his hearts lied beneath the robes and skin.

The effect was immediate. Her emotions swelled to greater heights than she had ever felt, the motherly embrace from before, reaching back and almost pulling her very soul into it while whispering sweet nothings to her.

She felt a single tear stream down her cheeks.

“Sweet Mother…” She whispered. “She has come back. She is  _ free _ .” She could not stop the tears and feelings that swelled within her, even if she wanted to. A burden that had been on her shoulders was lifted, pure joy and relief cut through her very soul. She could not stop the thoughts of their blessed mother being free once more… “You saved Her.”

Lorgar: “Hallelujah.”  
Roboute: “How much did she feel, exactly?”  
Emperor: “TRY HAVING MY OWN PRESENCE EXUDING OVER YOU RIGHT NOW WITH NOTHING ELSE EVEN COMING THROUGH EXCEPT GOLD, RIGHTEOUSNESS AND TO TOP IT OFF, JUST MY VERY BEING WITH YOU NOT HAVING MET ME BEFORE. ALL AT ONCE.”  
Roboute: “Oh… wow… that’s… overwhelming?”  
Magnus: “No shit, sherlock.”

He only nodded at this.

She let out a bubble of laughter, “So this is what they meant by pestilence replaced…” 

She looked at the Visarch, who raised his hands in defence. “I did not know of… of the extent.”

Behind her, she could hear Roboute let out a breath. “Well, if it wasn’t for the squires’ story confirmation, I could take that as confirmation as well.” He looked to Mortarion who still looked down at his wife. “I believe you.”

Yvraine perked up and looked to roboute, breaking the connection that was between her and… The Consort. “Pardon?”

“You just gave confirmation to my brother’s story.” Roboute spoke plainly, watching his wife flit her gaze from him to the consort and back.

She looked back to the consort and thought for a second, “Wait, your name is…?”

“Mortarion, sister in law.” The consort answered.

She paused once more as this processed in her mind. Then it clicked- “Wait, didn’t you try to kill Roboute not too long ago?”

Mortarion shrugged, “Different me. Different Path.”

“Ah, yes. That makes sense.” She ignored the incredulous sound coming from Rogal.

“No?” Rogal sputtered out, he seriously needed a drink after this.

Rogal: “No. It does  _ not _ .”  
Magnus: “Eh… yes it kind of does. Aeldari paths are weird.”

“Well, yes actually. Paths are… different compared to how humans work out their life choices, but- either way. I don’t doubt him and he is telling the truth.” She took a few steps away from Mortarion, running a hand along her head. “This is… Odd. To say the least.” Too odd, all she wanted was to find Aegidius…

Speaking of Aegidius, she tuned out the rest of the meeting and began to seek out the soul of her precious boy. If there were gods walking amok on the planet, she definitely wanted…

She stopped, took a breath and began her soul searching again. Her breathing picking up as she did the search once more, right as the words “Primaris” and “volunteer” were being thrown about behind her.

“-obviously, the process of turning your sons into Primaris would be a long, tricky and a dangerous one, but we are willing to run a final test on your sons. Purely for safety and as a way to truly test on whether or not they are pure.” Roboute was going on, aware that something was amiss with Yvraine, but this was the matter at hand that needed addressing. “The mortality rate is not as high as it used to be, we have streamlined the process somewhat, but it is still very taxing-”

“I volunteer myself for the process.” Captain Tarkus spoke up. “It will be my duty to prove to you and all in this room that the Dusk Raiders are pure, we are forgiven and we will come out of this triumphant.”

Roboute nodded, then looked to Mortarion, “Do you object?”

“No. I believe Captain Tarkus can live through the process and prove once and for all that my sons are pure, they can have their second chance here in Imperium Secundus.”

Roboute nodded once more. “Then I shall push it forward, Captain Tarkus, you will be the first of your brothers to cross the Rubicon Primaris-”

“Where is Aegidius.” Yvraine cut into Roboute’s speech, causing him to look at her. “Roboute, where is Aegidius.” Her breathing was short, ears fully pricked up as her iris’ were getting smaller.

Lion: “Took them long enough to notice.”  
Magnus: “Oh boy, it’s starting.”

“In… his room being guarded by his Custodes.” Roboute replied, surprised as to why she was suddenly asking this. “Farseer Eldrad and the Apothecaries prescribed him rest for-”

She suddenly spun on her heels and bolted out, the Visarch escorting her as she stormed away, leaving a surprised and silenced gathering behind.

A few seconds passed, before Captain Tarkus cleared his throat. “You were saying… Lord Guilliman.”

“Ah, yes, the procedure, albeit still volatile, it has become...”

**...**

Sanguinius: “Again… AGAIN!”  
Horus: “Sanguinius-”  
Sanguinius: *Vampiric hiss*  
Horus: “Okay… maybe we should stop disturbing his soap?”  
Perturabo: “Let’s just stay quiet for a while. For once.”

He was pulled to his feet by one of the Scions grabbing the scruff of his uniform. 

“We need to leave sir!” One of the Scions shouted over the sound of cannon fire and explosions, even as the rest returned fire along with the guardsmen, who were already running for the Tauros’ that they had come in.

Some didn’t make it far, being shredded by either the explosions or the hundreds of traitor guardsmen, now firing their lasguns as they closed in.

He felt a mental slap at the back of his head.

**“Get a move on before you die from a lucky shot!”**

Roboute: *Glares at Emperor*  
Emperor: *Shrugs*

Knowing that he did not have the time to argue, he began running, the Scions escorting him in protective formation as they did so, any shots that hit them luckily either grazing off their armour, or being absorbed by it more or less completely.

Finally, after what felt like hours, but wasn’t even really a minute, they got to the Tauros’.

“Explicator!” Yarrick shouted. “You can ride with us! Your Scions can take the other Tauros, the guardsmen manning it fell!”

Aegidius looked back to his Scions, and then back to Yarrick, unsure about-

**“Get in the damn Tauros!”**

_ Okay, okay! I’m going! _ He quickly joined Yarrick, and grabbed shotgun. He hoped he wouldn’t have to deal with more of his  _ Grandfather insulting him every chance he got. _

**“I am keeping you alive!”**

The Scions packed themselves into the other Tauros, even as Yarrick sat down on the driver's seat of the one Aegidius was sitting on. He turned the engine over, letting out an undignified curse as it refused to start.

“By the Emperor! Come on you cursed machine!” The trees next to them exploded from more cannon fire, and out of frustration Yarrick hit the dash with his kill klaw, and surprisingly enough… the Tauros started up.

Lehm: *Nods approvingly*

“Finally! Here, hold this.” Without so much as a look, Yarrick then detached the kill klaw, throwing the heavy thing in Aegidius’ lap on the co-drivers seat. Causing him to let out an “oof” of surprise even as they sped off, the Scions in the second Tauros close on their heels even as a shell landed near the third, causing it to veer off into a tree, before another shell finished it off.

“God Emperor, I hope this is worth it, those were some damn fine men.” Yarrick swore under his breath even as the Tauros’ picked up speed.

“Raln!” Yarrick shouted to the back. “Man the bolter and shoot this traitorous filth already!”

“Yes sir!” The shout came from the back, even as Aegidius heard the clang of the bolt being pulled back and stood to get a better look. Only to immediately sit back down, Raln firing the bolter above his head and towards some enemies dead ahead of them, causing Aegidius to plug his ears in a desperate attempt to stop the ringing in them even as Yarrick’s arm fell to the ground of the Tauros.

_ Ow. What the feth, Grandfather!? I thought you dulled my senses!? _

**“For the time being! You have any idea how difficult it is to dull your senses while also making sure you don’t die to your own incompetence? I may be the Emperor, but I have limits on what I can do on faulty hardware.”**

Roboute: *Even more glaring*  
Emperor: *Whistles*

_ F-Faulty!? Wait, I thought you were only dulling my sense- Ow. Too loud- _

**“While also making sure you don’t decide to get in the way of my plans again. I can not have you tripping, falling, twisting like usual right now! So just do as I say and we can get out of here alive.”**

_ Hold on- Hold on- Can you explain that to me- _

**“Not at the moment. We have company.”**

“On the right!” Yarrick shouted, causing Raln to shift fire as they came onto a road and began driving down it at full speed, Yarrick managing to steer despite all of the ice and snow even as Raln layed down the fire until the enemy was out of sight.

For a few blissful seconds, the only sound was that of the engines and tires crunching snow beneath them, as they speed along the road, the second Tauros managing to keep up, until…

“Frontal observation camp ahead.” Yarrick let Aegidius know. “We can reconvene here, and then get back to headquarters.” They continued driving. Aegidius began to feel a strange feeling in his gut… wait… didn’t he…

“Wait!” He shouted right as they entered the camp and went around the corner.

And directly into a camp filled with traitor guardsmen looting corpses.

Roboute: *Internally screaming*

“Fuck!” Yarrick swore, and stepped on the gas, causing the Tauros to lurch forward and straight for the woods that were through the basecamp, the second Tauros with the Scions following faithfully, until they got separated and the Scions veered off to the right, through the thick of the observation camp instead of into the woods.

“Oh no.” He hunched down into his seat, holding the power klaw, trying to not think about the Scions and their fate. Then again, the Scions were some of the best of the best, so… They might be okay… He just couldn’t stop thinking about how this was the worst decision he ever made. He just wanted to get home.

“Don’t worry about the Glory Boys.” Yarrick explained. “They have a strange way of surviving anything they get themselves into.” He shifted gears, concentrating on not hitting a tree. “Road up ahead now. Brace yourselves! We might have to introduce ourselves a bit rudely.” 

The Commissar floored it, the engine revving to the fullest as Aegidius saw what the Commissar had meant.

There was a full on enemy convoy ahead of them.

Yarrick appeared to not be discouraged in the slightest. Instead pressing himself to his chair firmly and letting his arms go lax as they slammed into an enemy vehicle, pushing it clean off the road and speeding down and alongside the convoy, Aegidius seeing the confused and outright shocked looks some of the traitor guardsmen were giving them even as Raln shot some of them clean off.

Jaghatai: *Nods and grins approvingly*

But still… no…

“There they are. To the right Explicator.” Yarrick nodded in the direction, causing Aegidius to turn his head. And see…

Ah. The Scions were back.

The Tauros was a tiny bit different. Mainly the fact that the entire hood of it was painted red in blood and half of a traitor guardsman’s corpse clung onto it even as the driving Scion was shooting a las pistol at anything he could see, one was standing, throwing grenades and firing their hotshot even as the third mounted the bolter, killing with merciless efficiency and the fourth was clinging to the side, swingin down with a chainsword at a clinging on traitor guardsman, sawing him in half even as they closed the distance to Aegidius and the driver simply saluted.

Konrad: “The fuck… how are they alive?”  
Sanguinius: *Hissing*  
Konrad: *Hissing back*

“Wow, everything I read about them, is true.” Aegidius watched the Scions work, slightly disturbed at the sheer amount of gore that was being flung about. His sense of smell and sight sharpening as he focused on the blood and body parts and- He clasped a hand over his mouth and tried to not focus on the blood and gore. His sense of smell wouldn’t stop, the stench of death and blood was making him gag. “Stop it, stop it…” He muttered to himself, trying to put a lid on his senses.

**“Good luck with that.”**

_ Just fix it! I can’t stand this any longer! _

**“No. Deal with it. You are in the middle of an enemy engagement and I need to be able to move you at a moment’s notice if need be. You deal with your out of control senses for ten minutes.”**

_ You… What… You are controlling me! _

Roboute: *Breaks throne, and has it replaced* *Heavily breathing throne nose, his anger snapping*

**“Good, you’re finally on the same page as me. Now we can go back to surviving.”**

Before he could respond to his Grandfather, Aegidius focused on not vomiting up more stomach acid in the middle of a Tauros.

**...**

The process of becoming a Primaris was a horribly tricky one, a process that would require the marine to not only die, but be reborn from the ashes. Or so he was told...

Sanguinius: “WHY ARE WE HERE OF ALL PLACES!?”

Captain Tarkus had been given the time to steel himself for the actual operation, time to say goodbye to his fellow Dusk Raiders, to the squires. Yet, he did not seek out his squire nor his brothers. He took the time to simply sit and contemplate his fate.

For so long, he had been silent. Silent during the Great Crusade, silent during Istvaan, silent during the heresy, silent during the siege, silent during their ascension to Nurgle’s garden. He had been silent for so long, yet he couldn’t find it in himself to hate the silence that permeated through the room he had been left in. He had spoken plenty through his time after being freed, after getting his second chance. He spoke more during the Yngfeld and Toscian union, he spoke during the fall, he spoke when he witnessed Vyn be unified under the banner of Yngfeld, the banner of the Dusk Raiders.

But he couldn’t find the words for this moment. He had someone in mind that he wished to speak to, but they were far, far away on Vyn. He wanted to speak to them again, to the children of Vyn, to the people who were quickly reaching the veil of safety of Imperium Secundus.

He looked down to the trinket in his right hand, a metal fixture that had been expertly crafted into the shape of a lily in full bloom. A gift, one he treasured above everything else he possessed. He could remember the day he received this very trinket, the day before they set out to march against the Angevin Empire’s capital and end a long prolonged struggle. She told him to be careful, to come back to Reeve safe and sound. She handed him the trinket then, telling him she didn’t have much else to give him beyond his weapons, his armor…

He had immediately attached it to his breastplate then, he appreciated everything she made for him. And to this day, he always had it with him.

He ran his thumb along the edges of the trinket, thinking about what he had accomplished during his second chance. Then he thought about what he would be leaving behind should he fall and not rise from the ashes, like the others keep telling him will happen. Was he ready to take the plunge and risk it all?

The feel of the trinket in hand answered his question.

It gave him focus. Sitting in this barren room, upon an operating slab, breathing the air which was thick with the sterilizing smell of counterseptics, all the while being dressed in only his sash, the sterile, white medical lumens shining upon him making him feel every bit a novice that he was not.

Long long ago, he had sat in a similar environment back upon the cradle of humanity itself, ready for the tender ministrations of the Emperor’s own chirurgeon’s and apothecaries.

The door opened, causing Tarkus to look up and see multiple Apothecaries, clad in power armour, coloured Ultramarine standard approaching him. They were escorted by multiple adepts of the Mechanicus, all bearing incense burners and singing in the soft tones of binharic even as some chapters serfs wheeled in a cooler.

Tarkus gulped. Those coolers contained his future. He found it only slightly amusing that the smallest amongst them was by far the most important of them all.

“Lie back.” One of the Apothecaries ordered, motioning for him to do so.

Tarkus obeyed without question, feeling the cold of the steel slab upon his back even as the Apothecaries restrained him. “For his own safety.” It was explained before he had agreed to this.

Mortarion: “Well, at least we get to see how a Marine is converted to a Primaris.”  
Sanguinius: “I’m wondering more about what’s going on with Tarkus and the trinket…”  
“Feels kind of like-”  
“-filler-”  
“-to be honest-”  
“-not that we are complaining.”  
Sanguinius: “That too.”  
“And-”  
“-character development.”

He gripped the trinket harder.

“Cousin.” One of the Apothecaries pointed at the hand clutching it. “You will have to relinquish it for now, for the sake of sterility.”

Tarkus breathed. “Please just… keep it somewhere within my sight, if at all possible.”

The Apothecary simply nodded and, quite reluctantly, Tarkus allowed him to take the trinket, and place it upon a table, just within his sight.

“Stand still now.” Another apothecary ordered even as a hololithic laser ran over his entire body and the Apothecaries began to poke and prod at certain areas upon his body.

“Connection nodes of the black carapace appear to be present and unharmed, however, they have somehow managed to grow over. Other organs are present and working at full capacity.”

“We may proceed.” Yet another Apothecary signed off, and before Tarkus knew it, he felt the sting of multiple hypodermics. Stabilization stimms and other narcotics, most importantly perhaps even local anesthetics. 

That did not mean there would be no pain however. Only that it wouldn’t hurt as much. Becoming a Primaris still bore much risk and pain, sad as it was…

Soon they had every single location of a connection node marked down and began to cut even as the serfs and mechanicus adepts left the room.

Tarkus looked down at his own body being cut into by the scalpels of the Apothecaries, the blood trailing down below him and onto the slab where it flowed away via the built in sluices.

Soon enough, the first holes were cut and the nodes lying underneath were revealed even as his Astartes augmented healing managed to stop the bleeding. 

Strange… without the nodes being exposed, he had looked almost… human. The comfort of that thought was ebbing away as his true form was revealed once more, almost as his humanity was being scrubbed away… again.

More hypodermics suddenly… more stimms in his system. Enough to dull his senses, but not enough to make him forget what was actually happening…

“Beginning opening incision.” Another hypodermic as a blood bag was attached and the incision down the entirety of his chest was made, the bones beneath moved, the organs shuffled… the drugs… they helped but the pain…

They began to insert tubes and dig around with various tools…

He squeezed his hands into fists. The pain…

They dug more.

More pain. More…

He breathed deeply, staring at the trinket within his sight. He had to hold on.

Somewhere along the line, he had closed his eyes. An apothecary forced them open now, a light shining into them. “Stable.” Was the only word the Apothecary spoke, even as Tarkus’ head unwillingly began to shake and he looked down at his butchered chest and abdomen. Countless tubes sticking out, IV lines, tools holding him open. Apothecaries with bloody armour walking about...

He gasped, not being able to help himself as his head continued to trash about.

“Inserting the Revitaliser.” One of the coolers from before was opened, a hiss being emitted by it as the mass of sinew and vein’s was put into Tarkus’ chest. Causing the Captain to groan in pain.

His head trashed again, this time however, his gaze landed upon the table next to the slab, and upon… upon that trinket… that small trinket…

He felt his heartbeat stabilize, and just a small amount of pain dissipate…

He would make it through. He had to…

The rest of the process was somehow even worse. The Steel Within was woven in with his muscles, causing shocks to travel through his body as it integrated itself with the organs.

And finally, they made a cut into his skull, shaving away the small amount of hair that he allowed himself to grow during his stay on Vyn. The Amplifier taking almost immediate effect, Tarkus feeling himself somehow become stronger even as the pain began to reach a whole other level as they began to close him up.

One step left…

“Connecting to gene-seed.” 

He felt himself breathe unsteadily, like a wounded beast on its last legs as he desperately tried to keep his gaze fixed upon the trinket on the table…

He heard the apothecaries suture the connection even as they closed his skull and sutured most of his body closed, leaving exposed only the area beneath his right pectoral...

“Connecting complete.” And then they sealed it.

And Tarkus had not known such pain had the capacity to exist as he let out a roar and all faded to black.

**...**

Sanguinius: “Okay… Alright, that happened…”  
Mortarion: “Hmm. Gory. Brutal. Yet efficient.”  
Horus: “Father? Any comments?”  
Emperor: “NO.” *Gently shaking his head* “I AM MERELY HAPPY THAT THE KNOWLEDGE I HAVE DEEMED FIT TO PASS ON HAS FOUND TALENTED HANDS TO WORK WITH.”

They rode for a few more minutes in relative silence, before finally spotting the massive lines of entrenched friendly guardsmen, the aquila banner flying high above what had to be the forward headquarters.

Aegidius let out a sigh of relief. Finally! He was gonna go home! This had to have been the _worst_ idea he had _ever_ ** _ever_** thought of!

But… at least it was going to be finally over-

He heard the scream of the shells and then saw and heard the explosions go up around them. What the-

“Enemy artillery!” He heard Raln shout from behind. “Those convoys we ran into must be destined for us!”

“Agreed.” Yarrick nodded off. “With this much heavy fire and approaching forces, there is no way we can get any transports to land or take off.”

_ Oh no. I’m gonna be stuck here…  _ Okay, he just had to think about his lessons. He learned basic survival and the basic theory of adapting the mission during engagement or loss of camp… They just- they just needed… “Do we have a secondary camp?”

“Had.” Yarrick confirmed. “We drove close to it. If the observation ones are gone, there is no doubt in my mind that the secondaries fell just as quickly. The seed of Chaos sows itself deeply, and strikes at the worst of times.”

Okay.  _ Okay _ . The situation was just as bad as before, if not worse. “Then we need to regroup and establish a new base of operations, don’t we? We can’t just be scattered around and let them pick us off one by one.” Yeah, that sounded like a good plan. He just- he just had to be smart and not panic.

“No time to establish a new one.” Yarrick grunted. “They are coming for us now. We will regroup here, at this headquarters, and we will stand, even if it’s to the last man, none shall pass. You have my word on that Explicator.”

“Right… Right, that is true.” He tried to figure out what he could do, what he could contribute… But all he could do was sit here and let everyone else here continue to drag him around and get him out of his own mess… He felt a spark of rage at the thought, hating how he was so useless. He wanted to help, he wanted to stop being treated as… as an invalid! He stopped trying to push down his senses, using his new sight to look out for any incoming artillery or enemies. He was going to be useful in some way, somehow!

**“You will have plenty of chances to do so. But not now. You would only get in the way.”**

_ I can at least look out for danger… I don’t need anything to help with that... _

**“The Guardsmen know this terrain far better than you do. Your psychic powers are far too unstable to help at the moment, unless of course you wish to repeat the accident that happened in the war room?”**

_ That. Was. Not. My. Fault. Maybe if everyone stopped treating me like the second coming of you, maybe we wouldn’t be in this situation! _

**“...do you really want to do this now? Listen here, boy. I will tear you apart in sixty different ways on how this is your fault for being a spoiled brat. Don’t you** **_dare_ ** **try to make this my fault.”**

_ I never asked to have you here with me, you know! I never even wanted to be the Emperor or have everyone seeing me as you, or having to be taught how to be you. I never asked for any of this! _

**“Do you think that matters? Do you not yet realize what world you have been born into? What Imperium you are destined to rule over? Do you truly think that something as little as free will really matter as much over the price of mankind’s survival?”**

_...No. I hate you. _

**“Good.”**

Mortarion: “This looks awfully familiar.”  
Konrad: “Very fucking familiar.”  
Emperor: “YES, YES, YES. I AM THE WORST. THE ABSOLUTE WORST THING IN THE GALAXY. NO ONE AND NOTHING WILL EVER BE WORSE THAN ME.”  
Horus: “Liv.”  
Emperor: “HORUS YOU SHUT YOUR FUCKING-”  
Mortarion: “What?”  
Emperor: “NOTHING.”

They rode into the headquarters then. Both Aegidius and the Emperor inside of his head, completely quiet even as Yarrick came to a stop and reattached his power klaw even as multiple Guardsmen surrounded him and he began giving out orders.

In the meantime, the Scions came to Aegidius’ side, standing as still as statues even as Aegidius waited. His mind still in turmoil over what to do…

“-this is Explicator Gidius, representative of Lord Inquisitor Hector Rex.” He heard Yarrick suddenly address him in front of his command staff. “He will remain with us until we push back this attack.”

He startled, then nodded to the command staff. “I’d say it’s a pleasure but…” He looked around, “I don’t think that’s very necessary.”

Most of the command staff let out some chuckles before Yarrick began to shout out orders. “Enough fooling about, to your positions, we hold the enemy here. And not a single one shall pass our lines, am I understood?”

An echo of “Yes sir!” Was his answer before they were dismissed, Aegidius looking around a bit awkwardly, trying to remember his place…

“It would be my pleasure if you were to escort me, Explicator.” Yarrick nodded in Aegidius’ reaction.

Aegidius nodded and quickly came to Yarrick’s side, but did notice the Scions were still following him. He looked to Yarrick, “You don’t mind if they tag along, do you?”

Yarrick waved his regular hand, and they marched away going for a fabricated building which was lit with hololithic projections, Raln staying with Yarrick along with a higher ranking Guardsman and Guardswoman.

“Situation.” Yarrick demanded, and the two higher ranked militarum members began showing images on the hololith.

“We have roughly ten thousand men which managed to retreat from the enemy breakout and return to the headquarters to hold the front line. We also have multiple heavy missile armed specialists, and even an artillery regiment that has managed to retreat, however…” The man trailed off, looking at the woman, who sighed.

“We lost contact with all of our tank battalions. In addition to that, any and all artillery units surrounding the main city have either fallen or have cut vox communications to us completely.”

Rogal: “The situation is dire.”  
Roboute: “Of  **course** it is…”

“In other words.” Yarrick took over. “We are outnumbered, outgunned and most likely even surrounded and stuck even as they are coming for us.” 

_ Wow. A real War Room. And I’m actually invited here. _ He watched the hololith, absorbing all he could to possibly find a way to help. Or at least, look important.

A grim smile graced Yarrick’s aged face. “By the God Emperor, those traitorous filth can’t escape us now.”

“Escape us?” Aegidius spoke up, confused on how the situation even remotely could lead to that conclusion.

Raln snickered, “Well, it’s due to the situation, Inquisitor. Just pick a direction to shoot in and you’re bound to hit something.” He then cleared his throat, standing up straight as he realised he just bantered to an Inquisitor. “I mean… Yes.”

Aegidius felt his mouth opening and closing in shock and surprise.

“Forgive my over excited aide, Explicator.” Yarrick explained, then looked to his commanders. “We shall hold them here. No falling back, no reinforcements. We hold, or we fall.” He nodded grimly even as his commanders saluted.

“Glory to the first man to die.” One of the commanders spoke, causing the other to smile grimly.

Horus: “Grim humour.” *Chuckles* “Menials in war certainly never change.”

“No.” Aegidius spoke up, looking to the whole War Room. “No, we are going to live and we are going to win.” He stepped closer to the hololith. “We still have some forces here and we still have the advantage of the home field. Not to mention we will have reinforcements coming.” He palmed his personal Rosette in his pocket, not wanting to bring it out just yet. “Do any of you know of the first battle of Armageddon? Did we suffer worse conditions then compared to now?”

The two commanders looked at each other, then back to Aegidius. “Yes my Lord.”

“We still have a chance, didn’t Commissar Yarrick personally lead the Armageddon Steel Legion to victory despite overwhelming odds, despite other simulations pointing to utter defeat?” He then stopped as he turned to Yarrick, where he finally realized what had been beside him the entire time. “...you actually are him…”

“Yes.”

Aegidius felt his face grow hot and coloured red from embarrassment, beginning to stutter a bit. “...oh…” He attempted to desperately get over it. “Uhm… anyway, don’t give up hope, reinforcements are on the way.” He attempted to ignore the whispers from the Lieutenants of how they had Space Marines on Armageddon who came to their rescue. 

“Never were, my lord.” Raln spoke. “It’s just the old humo-” He stopped as Yarrick shoved an elbow into his gut.

Roboute: “Did… did Aegidius just attempt to give a motivational speech to Guardsmen that never needed it in the first place?”  
Fulgrim: “Egh… yes.”  
Lorgar: “He’s trying.”

“And how do you know this, Explicator?” Yarrick then asked, causing Aegidius to squirm slightly underneath the old man’s gaze.

“My… my transport going down signalled a backup force on Macragge. If we can hold long enough, they will come.”

The commanders looked at the hololith again, zooming it out to show the mass of gathering enemy forces slowly coming onto their position. “Good my lord. We will most likely need them.”

He nodded and quickly started to press the rune on his Rosette, making sure to keep it in his pockets. No need to make them all panic…

**“You finally did it. You pressed the rune.”**

_ Of course you knew about this. _

**“Of course I knew, you idiot. They should be here within a few hours. They shall sweep up this rabble in no time.”**

_ Right.  _ There was a silence in his mind before he heard it again.

**“Just try not to die. And… good work there.”**

_ Did you just compliment me? _

**“No. Now shut up and survive. And actually help make a battle plan so this goes along smoothly.”**

Aegidius then brought his hands back out and looked to the Command Staff. “Well. Now we need to work out the details, don’t we? Can’t just sit around and let ourselves be shot?” He grinned at the chuckles, happy that something was going his way even if he was screaming on the inside.

**...  
** **206.M42 - The Fortress of Hera - Office of the Adeptus Custodes Captain-General  
** **...**

“Captain-General.” It was Pupponius, coming to Constantin Valdor’s side, even as said man studied some reports.

Sanguinius: “WAIT. This smells fishy…  _ this is how it ties together.” _

“Has he done it then?” Valdor asked without even having to so much as look up.

“Yes, Captain-General, he has pressed it, just as he himself has foreseen.”

Valdor nodded, but only continued to look at the plastek flimsies in his hand.

“Shall I deploy the ones stationed in orbit?”

Emperor: “KNEW IT.”  
Roboute: “Oh fuck the shut up, no you did not! You came in here much later!”  
Magnus: “Oh Roboute, don’t you remember? Father  **loves** to just say ‘Just as Planned’ for anything and everything. Because as we know, he is the grand architect, the one who plans everything! Everyone is just a pawn you know.”  
Emperor: “THIS IS JUST STANDARD BACKUP PLANNING. SOMETHING YOU WOULD KNOW VERY LITTLE ABOUT, OH SHATTERER OF THE WEBWAY.”  
Horus: “As much as I would love to disagree with Father… this has a very eerie but familiar pattern to me.”

“No. She has not come to us yet, we must be patient Shield-Captain.”

Pupponius simply nodded. “Then the test still continues?”

“Indeed.” Valdor shrugged off the feelings of worry. “Though I sense it shall not be so for long.”

Magnus: “Wait… wot.”  
Emperor: *Smug grin* “THIS ISN’T EVEN MY FINAL FORM.”

And true to his word, not even a minute later, the doors to his office flung open and in walked Yvraine, closely escorted by the Visarch.

Valdor looked up. “Lady Yvraine. To what do I owe your presence?”

“Aegidius is not on Macragge.” She immediately answered, a panicked and wild look in her eyes at the mere idea of murdering whoever it was that has taken her baby.

A look of shock came over the Captain-General’s face, even as Pupponius immediately looked at the Captain-General. “Shield-Captain, check on the Emperor.”

Pupponius ran, grabbing a hold of his guardian speer and out the door in the blink of a human eye even as Valdor stood. “How do you know this?” He asked Yvraine, even as he came around the desk, towering over the Eldar.

“How do- I feel that his presence is no longer on the planet! Is it not your duty to make sure he is safe!?” She reigned in her worry and anger, it would do no good to explode at the Custodes.

“I was given explicit orders by the Emperor himself and a recommendation by his personal apothecary and spiritual guide that complete rest with the removal of our presence directly out of his room was for the best.”

Magnus: “Wha-what how?”  
Emperor: *Smug face*  
Horus: “Yeah… eerie and familiar indeed.”

She sighed, “If he is close to blossoming, he needs his spiritual guide, or even I, more than anything right at this moment. Point is, he is not on planet- he could have teleported or opened a warp tear or he could have done something or the sort-” She began to pace, her worry for her boy was making her think of radically wild theories.

In that moment, a Custodes ran in. “Captain-General, we have received a transponder signal from the Emperor’s personal rosette.”

“From where?” Valdor immediately demanded.

“The ice moon of Bastonye.”

“ _ Why is he on Bastonye of all places _ .” She stopped, hands grabbing at her crown and nearly tearing it off in frustration. Why would he be there? Was he kidnapped? Did he accidentally teleport himself there? Did that no good, asshole of a grandfather of his have something to do with this!?

Roboute: “YES HE DOES!”

“This is… a difficult situation, Bastonye is many an hours flight from Macragge.”

“I shall muster a dread host immediately Captain-General.” The Custodes reported.

“No.” Yvraine interrupted them all, causing Valdor to raise an eyebrow. “No… no… I have a few favours left.”

“What do you mean Lady Yvraine?”

“There is a webway portal on Bastonye.” She explained, desperately attempting not to panic. “It is ancient and unused, but there are those that know the way.”

Valdor nodded. “Will it be quicker than using conventional means?”

“Yes.” She answered without a second thought. “Much faster. But I must contact the Harlequins.”

“Then do so my Lady.” Valdor encouraged. “I shall gather the Companions and escort you personally.”

“See that you do.” She nodded to them, then quickly bolted from their office. She had much to do and precious little time to execute the rescue. And in her worry and the Visarch’s haste, she had not even noticed the slight nod that Valdor gave to the returning Shield-Captain...

Magnus: *Fucking dying* “ööööööööööö”  
Horus: “Well, the twins did have to get it from someone.”

**…**

“Dead.” The Apothecary reported, causing the air in the Periphery to grow thick with worry and dread. They knew that death was expected of the final voyage, but watching someone they fought with, nearly died with and were given a second chance with die… Gorm and Gough couldn’t suppress the panic of Tarkus possibly...

Mortarion: “Patience…”

On a screen in front of them, the counter began. If it went past thirty standard Terran minutes, it was over and Captain Tarkus was dead for certain.

The first dozen passed by in complete and utter silence, no one daring to utter so much as a single word. The whirring of countless machinery and reverent, silent hymns instead accompanying it like that of a haunting song to one's life.

“He can’t be.” Gorm finally broke the silence. “He is tough, tougher than any of us.”

“Patience.” Mortarion suggested. “There is still time.”

All the while, Roboute took this opportunity to walk closer to Rogal and give him a knowing look. A look to which the Praetorian responded to by simply nodding. If this failed… there could be no redemption. There could be no chapter of Mortarion’s own, their genes too mutated, their blood forsaken for eternity.

But Konrad was not here to do it this time. It would have to be them.

The procedures were in place, all it would take would be but the snap of Roboute’s fingers, or a simple motion, or a single command…

It irked the Lord Commander to even think of needing to possibly resort to that. That final of all solutions… however, nothing could be allowed to endanger the Imperium as it had once been. Nothing.

More minutes ticked by, and the tension continued to grow. Various looks, now being exchanged between the Marines in the room.

They all knew what was to come. They could feel it.

If it came down to it, it would be over in but an instant. And the Marines all knew it. And so too did Roboute, as did Rogal.

*Tense silence in the viewing room*

Everyone in the room shared those thoughts.

That is, all but Mortarion.

The Primarch continued to merely stand there, gazing out of the Periphery towards the now sutured corpse of his gene-son.

The counter reached twenty-five.

The tension rose again, the air now so thick with it you could positively cut it with a power blade.

The counter reached twenty-six.

“Is he…” Gough carefully asked.

The counter reached twenty-seven.

The Apothecary within the Periphery pressed at some runes, even as Sicarius carefully positioned himself at the door, his blade within easy reach.

The counter reached twenty-eight.

Gough and Gorm looked around. Blocked in. No way out.

The counter reached twenty-nine.

Roboute opened a channel on his personal vox and waited, even as Decius who, until now, had sat at the back of the Periphery, stood and began to walk towards the glass.

He reached it. Just as the counter reached thirty.

“He comes.”

Ferrus: “That child freaks me out…”  
Mortarion: “Ugh…”

The machines began to whir louder. The Apothecaries below looked at the corpse. The tension in the room was redirected all together as everyone’s looks shifted down towards where Tarkus lay, still strapped to the operating slab.

They watched as the body began to spasm. As the bones began to shift. As the muscle’s began to grow. 

They saw life come back to a dead man.

And they saw the second that the Belisarian Furnace roared to life.

With the roar of a man reborn, it brought Captain Tarkus back from death. Immediately giving him over twice his normal energy and adrenaline. Enough for him to clutch the trinket within his hand hard enough to make himself bleed even as he tore himself free from restraints meant to hold the Space Marine in place and took his first frantic steps in a new life.

Roboute shut off his personal vox, a sigh of relief escaping him.

Captain Tarkus had crossed the Rubicon Primaris.

**...**

Sanguinius: “I swear, I am getting whiplash from how much this chapter jumps around…”   
“Even we-”   
“Are tired-”   
“Of this as well.”

He was suddenly thankful for all of his games of Battlemace and Regicide. Being there in the command center, the war room, felt almost comfortable.

Aegidius was keeping up with the rest of the command staff, suddenly remembering moves he made in some of his prolonged Battlemace games or even his Regicide battles against Brother Santodes. Though at the moment, he was mostly just giving suggestions on placements and asking questions on any changes to troops, morale or the surrounding area.

...try as he might, he stomped down the fear that was building up in him. He was still terrified of messing this up, that this wasn’t just a game, that his actions his direct actions were going to get these actual living people he is talking to right now killed. He knew he could contribute on the battlefield, but… He’s never willingly used and manifested his psychic abilities to harm someone! Well, on purpose-

The massive wall of fire, which now appeared to be a constant in the back of his head, flared up.  **“Stop lying to yourself.”** He felt the psychic sigh.  **“If you have no trust in your own actions, it will only make everything worse. Pick a decision that you thought over once or twice and stick with it.”**

As much as he despised the words of his grandfather from time to time… he had to admit, the other times, they were actually useful. 

_ Thanks… I guess... _

**“Thank me later. We still have an engagement to survive.”**

And there was the anxiety… great! 

“If this is all, we should get moving sir.” The Lieutenant Guard commander from before, the female one, pointed out.

“Agreed.” The other Lieutenant pointed at the map hololithic. “They will be on us in under ten standard minutes. Artillery is still random, but getting closer.”

Yarrick looked over at Aegidius and raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “Anything to comment on Explicator?”

He looked up to Yarrick, then the command staff. He gulped, “Only that the Emperor is watching us, right now. Don’t forget that.”

Horus: “More than you may believe.”

Yarrick nodded, and then began shouting orders even as he and the two commanders left the building. Aegidius began to trail them nervously as the camp became an organized mess of running Guardsmen.

It didn’t take long for them all to find their designated positions and an almost eerie quiet to settle over the entire series of defensive fortifications.

Meanwhile, Aegidius was going through his breathing exercises. Master Eldrad always told him a tranquil mind is needed to call upon the forces of the Empyrean. Panicking was going to be bad and there were a lot of people around who were going to need the extra support.

How, he wasn’t sure what he could do, but that wasn’t going to stop him. Maybe he could explode the artillery before it even hit them? Or make a barrier to shield them? Perhaps he could ask-

**“Yes, that is possible in theory. It requires focus and precise timing, quite doable. For me.”**

He waited. Then waited some more.

**“...”**

_ Are you going to tell me how? _

**“It’s easy for** **_me_ ** **.”**

_ -Oh, so it should be easy for me, right? _

**“Not unless you want to pass out again. Actually, go ahead. That way I can have full control and actually make you useful to everyone here.”**

Corvus: *Smacking head into back of throne*   
Roboute: *Cradling face in hands*   
Emperor: *Shrugs*  
Lion: “Good advice.”

Aegidius just scowled and went back to his breathing exercises, ignoring the growing anger in the back of his mind. He was going to be useful, whether his Grandfather thought so or not...

**…**

Sanguinius: “FUCK OFF!”  
Rogal: “Brother. Calm yourself. You are acting like an unhinged woman glued to her chosen Colchisian holovision show.”  
Emperor: “WITH NO SUBTITLES TO MATCH, BECAUSE, DESPITE NOT SPEAKING THE LANGUAGE, YOU CLAIM TO UNDERSTAND IT PERFECTLY.”  
Lorgar: “I still have no idea why so many people care about our holovision shows, the production value is just enough to buy spidermilk tortillas for the entire cast and crews lunch…”  
Corvus: “Not to mention how many plotlines involve amnesia, comas, deadly incurable diseases and an overuse of a zoom angle. Not to mention the organ music.”

The emissary of Ynnead, now fully armed and armoured waited impatiently at the webway portal by the foot of Hera’s crown mountains. Or, as patiently as she could while her only child was out there on some gods forsaken moon in the middle of some combat engagement and could be in mortal danger and she was still here-

Her escort was not much better off. In these times, the Webway was a treacherous place. Before the Eye of Despair, the Webway was at the very least traversable with relative safety.

Now however… it was damned near suicidal to go and use it. Aeldari or not, any type of void travel was preferable to the risk.

That is… unless you had a guide.

Emperor: “HARLEQUIN TIME!”  
Horus: “The clowns…”   
*A scream comes from deep in the ship*   
Konrad: “What the fuck…”   
Emperor: “YEAH, SOME OF MY CUSTODES REMEMBER THAT EPISODE WITH CEGORACH. THEY’RE STILL A LITTLE ANGRY ABOUT IT. THE MENTION OF CLOWNS GETS A COUPLE TO JUST SCREAM.”  
Sanguinius: “How about we focus on the vid?”  
Leman: *Imitates an organ sound*   
Lion: “I don’t even think anyone cares at this point.”  
Roboute: “I do!”  
Lion: “That’s just because your son’s life is in peril. Like always.”

Then it became not only feasible, but an advantage very few held now-a-days.

Sadly, the guides were  _ very _ few and far between, and their services had a certain risk involved as well…

“Emissary.” A deep baritone voice raised her from her thoughts as she turned to face Constantin Valdor, now armoured, armed and accompanied by an escort of a hundred or so Companions.

“Finally.” She breathed. “They should be here in a moment.”

“And you trust them to lead us to the Emperor?”

She sighed. “Trust… is a strong word in the Gothic Lexicon-”

“Then your desperation gets the better of you.”

“My  _ desperation _ -” She hissed even as she turned on the Captain-General. “-involves retrieving my son,  _ your Emperor _ , as soon as possible, before he gets himself into any more harm!” She almost shouted at the end, her instincts threatening to overwhelm her.

In response, Constantin merely let the butt end of the Apollonian Spear rest on the ground. “We shall see.”

Before she could respond, the Webway gate began to shudder as it activated. And not a moment later, Yvraine could feel as the toxin that she had gotten used to so long ago, began to permeate the air even as various jingles and chuckles were heard.

In the next heartbeat, they were everywhere.

They danced and spun and jumped. Acting out the ancient play of the Desperate Fool, none of them out of position by so much as a single millimeter as the Avatar bowed low before her, chuckling as he did so. “The Emissary calls for a guide to this most illustrious of places?” He asked in an overly-dramatic tone, often present with the followers of Cegorach.

She nodded slowly to the Avatar, “Yes. It is the most dire of missions. Is there a path to it?”

He chuckled, dancing around her, all the while looking at the present Custodes, all of whom stood their ground, on guard but not tense. “There are some.”

“Then please, I ask that you share this information.” She just wanted Aegidius home, wanted him safe and sound and not in danger… Her tone may have been a bit too pleading.

He chuckled, now circling back around to her. “But he has already tasted death.”

Roboute: *Hand instantly closes around mug, crushing it into nothingness* “WHAT!?”

She stopped, then her breathing began to get erratic, “What. What no, no that should not be possible. His time has not come yet, I have felt nothing-”

“Yet he continues to live. A most curious dance he dances.” He chuckled even as the trope began to jump into the Webway portal. “Come. It is scattered, and time is disturbed, but the fun remains.” He laughed even as he launched himself into the portal.

Roboute: *Slumps back into his throne and begins to slide down it* “Dead… that’s how I feel at the moment…”  
Konrad: “KO. Join the fucking club.”  
Rogal: “There is no such club.”  
Perturabo: *Smacks*

Not missing a beat, she followed after letting out a sound of frustration, ordering her own entourage to follow. Now even more worried than before, she knew they had precious little time before he tasted death once more.

**…**

Aegidius paced up and down the line nervously, his escort of Tempestus Scions hot on his heels as he patrolled the entire line, watching carefully for what weak points the enemy would attempt to exploit and trying to patch them up in his head as he went along.

It wasn’t long before the first of the enemy was spotted off in the distance. The spotters already shouting grid coordinates down to the artillery officers and all the Guardsmen now well and truly taking their place.

The next thing Aegidius knew, all hell broke loose.

Their own artillery began to fire even as enemy artillery shells landed on their position and Yarrick and the Scions dragged him off to a nearby command bunker just above ground and with a view of the entire line.

In the next minute, the massive wave of Traitor guardsmen revealed themselves, tanks rattling alongside them as Yarrick shouted orders and a show of red light engulfed the field, the las-fire killing indiscriminately on both sides.

At first, it looked as if the friendly forces were winning. They were entrenched, and their own artillery was far more effective. However…

“They're starting to push our weak points!” The female Lieutenant noticed, pointing things out while observing out of the bunker.

“But… but how?” Aegidius asked. “They can’t know where our line is weakest.” He stated the obvious, thinking about moving certain troops to reinforce the area all the while not weakening the rest of the line.

Lion: “Expect the unexpected. Are you sure you trained him, Roboute?”  
Roboute: “Seeing as I am here in the present, I cannot give an accurate appraisal. But he does bring up a good point, they have barely even probed them, how would they know their weak points?”

“Spotters?” One of the Scions asked.

“Negative, they couldn’t see clearly with how the defences are stacked.” Yarrick immediately dismissed.

“Getting lucky?” The male Lieutenant asked.

**“Traitors in our midst.”**

Roboute: *Freezes* “Oh… shit.”

Aegidius’ brow furrowed even as he looked at Yarrick, who looked back at him just in time to lunge and shove Aegidius out of the way as one of the Scions spun around and shot at something.

Aegidius spun around on the floor just in time to see the Male Lieutenant from before fall to the floor himself, his chest blown apart from the Hellguns of the Scions.

Then… he began to change.

“Shoot him!” Yarrick ordered, drawing his Bolt pistol and firing while the Female Lieutenant drew her own Las pistol and fired, causing the changing Lieutenant to shake and let out an otherworldly scream as feathers and a beak grew, along with grand wings that were shearn off by the bolts of the Scions, Yarrick and the other Lieutenant.

They kept firing til naught but a pile of burning feathers and otherworldly singe remained on the floor where once the Lieutenant was, the Daemon slain.

“The taint is even worse than I thought.” Yarrick admitted immediately.

Konrad: “Is anyone even surprised at this point?”  
Sanguinius: “Nope.”  
Magnus: “No… Aegidius just has the worst of luck.”  
Jaghatai: “Considering that Father is acting like a lich upon his mind… I agree.”  
Mortarion: “Acting like? No, he is a lich.”

**“The Commissar is correct. This is getting out of hand.”**

“I…” Aegidius stood. “We need to focus on the defence.”

“Agreed, but they know our weak points.” The remaining Lieutenant pointed out. “They will push them until they break, and then our line will follow.”

**“She has a point. Perhaps it would be best if you were to let me take over.”**

_ “What? You can do that?” _

Aegidius’ mind flashed with a memory of how he had so easily disarmed Damien so many years ago. Then again to when he was in the War Room and giving suggestions. Then he began to remember the times when he seemed to do better in his lessons, when he had bouts of genius and was praised...

_ “Wait! That was you?” _ He deflated then, he had hoped that perhaps he had been steadily getting better over time. But knowing it was his Grandfather instead… Stung a lot.

Vulkan: “Brother…”  
Roboute: “I am honestly past caring at this point. Nothing surprises me anymore. Nothing at this point, can surprise me.”  
Konrad: *Wheezes and laughs* “Oh fuuuuuck…” *Freeze* “Oh. Oh it’s even  _ worse.” *WHEEZE* _

**“Don’t doubt yourself, you’re not a complete imbecile, you have achieved plenty on your own, but you did not possibly think it was all by yourself without my aid? Did it never occur to you how well you can read a situation, just how powerful you are? Just how much raw warp energy flows through your veins?”**

_ “I… No, not really. I just thought that I was improving little by little by myself. That I was doing something all by myself for once and not just… getting it from you.” _

**“Ha! Improving you say, you are improving by growing and allowing yourself more control over the gifts I have given you. Powers which are mine, beholden to your control.”**

Aegidius went quiet, mulling it over.  _ “I… suppose… If it’s to help, then perhaps I should just give over control to you-”  _ Then he stopped as he remembered what happened last time. The last time he took control- or was it him being given control? He almost- Uncle Konrad-

**“No. You did not take control,** **_I_ ** **gave it to you and** **_you_ ** **lost focus, thus almost resulting in killing Konrad.”**

_ “But…”  _ His mind began to struggle.  _ “I… I just needed to focus more?” _

**“Yes. You keep focus, and you can harness the gifts I have granted to you to slay this vermin.”**

“Explicator, the line is breaking!” The Lieutenant shouted, pointing at a part of the trench where the enemy was engaging in a bloody melee with the Guardsmen stationed there.

_ “They- they need help.” _

**“You can help them. Grasp onto the fire inside of you and will it under your control.”**

“They’re through! The line is beginning to collapse!” The Lieutenant shouted even as Yarrick stepped up.

“Order the retreat to the second line!”

Aegidius panted, his mind racing.  _ “I… Alright. Just… This is the last time, okay?” _

**“I thought you would never ask.”**

Horus: “You sound way too happy about that.”  
Emperor: “THIS ISN’T ME-”  
Mortarion: “The part of you that loves to destroy everything that opposes him?”  
Emperor: “EXACTLY!”

He felt the fire at the back of his mind explode into a roaring inferno as  _ something  _ clawed its way from the fire and grasped at his muscles, sending a shudder up through his spine and mind.

“ **Cancel the retreat.** ” He heard himself order. “ **I shall deal with this.** ”

He saw the stares of incredulity on the Commissars and Lieutenant’s face’s and felt it echo even harder from the minds of the Scions.

“Explicator?” Yarrick asked even as Aegidius felt himself smile as he reached for the power sword by the Lieutenant’s hip, and drew it into his own hand. 

“ **I shall be borrowing this.** ” He looked at the Scions. “ **Try to keep up.** ” He then turned around and walked out of the bunker, the sword in his right hand as the Scions followed him.

As soon as he came outside, he felt the attention of countless traitors swing to him. He felt and saw as they looked at him. He… he felt their  _ fear. _

In the next second, he drew the sword across the palm of his left hand, drawing blood across the entire blade without so much as an ounce of pain, the wound immediately healing even as the entire sword became engulfed in golden warp fire.

Lorgar: “You can do that!?”  
Magnus: “Quite hard to be honest but… yes it is possible with practice.”

**“Observe.”** He heard the Emperor say even as his focus sharpened to an unimaginable degree.

He lunged with a roar not of this world, cutting across  _ dozens _ of traitor Guardsmen in one fell swoop, the fire of the sword turning them to ash and destroying the souls of the weaker ones in an instant even as His gaze fell upon a line of tanks coming closer.

He felt himself extend his right arm and flick it as easily as if he was turning the page of a book, and sending the entire tank column flying like massive boulders. 

Leman: *Spits out ale* “THE FUCK?”

He drew the hand upward, and squeezed a fist coming down, crushing countless more traitors in their own armour.

Fulgrim: *Recoils* “Ok- effective but disgusting-”

The braver ones lunged for him, but were dodged easily as he slashed them in half with his sword.

Any shots that reached him and managed to penetrate his armour did next to no damage, Aegidius feeling himself heal immediately even as the fire in his mind grew and grew, threatening to consume him entirely.

Above, he spied incoming artillery high above ready to crash down onto their position. He raised his right hand and waved at the artillery, redirecting it to instead impact the enemy lines, causing the impact zones to explode in flesh confetti of limbs. The ones not hit by the artillery instead impacted with a freshly uprooted tree from the forest and flattened by the offending foliage.

When he decided to set the tree on fire, was when the real damage began. Swinging the uprooted and on fire tree through the enemy ranks was like sweeping up his own playroom after a long day of fun. The traitor guardsmen were nothing compared to him, like the tiny figures of a toy chest that could easily be destroyed and crushed.

Magnus: “Ok, now we are getting to be some serious overkill!”  
Leman: “...Maleficarum. This is pure maleficarum.”  
Magnus: “No, it’s not- it’s overkill but-”  
Leman: “Brother, are we watching the same shit roight now?”  
Magnus: “...yes. But it is not at the point of your ‘maleficarum’.”  
Roboute: *Looking on in utter horror* “...G-Gidius…”

Embedding the tree into an enemy tank, he then grinned ferally as he threw his right hand downwards, then slowly began to raise it once more as the snow covered battleground began to steam, then harden into ice spikes that jabbed upwards and impaled through the lines and lines of traitors, skewering them like the olden days of a man who did the same but with pikes. Then for added measure, sharply raised his hand once more to uproot the ice spikes, turn, then shoot them straight deeper into the enemy lines, tearing through their fleshy bodies and into any of the enemy’s heavy infantry and tank support.

In one standard Terran minute. The Emperor took the field. 

And slaughtered countless thousands doing so.

Roboute: “Shut it… shut it off!”  
Horus: “Brother?”  
Roboute: “Turn it off! I can’t- I can’t see him like this!”  
Emperor: “ROBOUTE, CALM DOWN. YES, THEY’RE HUMAN, BUT THEY ARE LITERALLY TRYING TO KILL HIM-”  
Roboute: “MY BOY IS COMMITTING A SLAUGHTER! I WATCHED HIM SEND ME MESSAGES, BEG ME TO SPEND HIS BIRTHDAY WITH HIM, PLAY WITH FIGURINES AND DO HIS HOMEWORK! MY INNOCENT BOY IS SLAUGHTERING PEOPLE AND YOU WANT ME TO SIT BACK AND WATCH IT HAPPEN WHILE YOU CONTROL HIM-”  
Emperor: “WILL YOU GET A HOLD OF YOURSELF!? IT’S AS IF YOU HAVE NEVER DONE SOMETHING LIKE THIS BEFORE.”  
Roboute: “ARE YOU NOT LISTENING TO ME!? YOU’RE MAKING A TEN YEAR OLD, YOUR OWN GRANDCHILD, COMMIT A SLAUGHTER WHILE YOU SMUGLY SIT IN HIS MIND AND ENCOURAGE HIM TO THROW AWAY HIS OWN HUMANITY! I’M SORRY IF I ACTUALLY HAVE A HEART AND CARE ABOUT THE WELL BEING OF MY OWN CHILD, UNLIKE YOU!”

He felt the power continue to grow as he slaughtered the few remaining traitors of the first wave, feeling intoxicated more and more by the second, until finally, none remained.

He felt himself turn to his own line, expecting cheers and cries of gratitude.

Only to instead be hit with yet another wall of fear.

The couple thousand remaining friendly Guardsmen all wore faces of shock, fear and utter astonishment.

What… but… but he had killed the enemy. Why would… why would they…

His mind flashed. The images of Damien, crying, coming to the surface. The memory of how his cousin, his best friend begged and pleaded for his own father’s life echoing like an explosion.

_ “Wait… stop… stop… STOP!” _

He felt the fire begin to die down. 

_ “STOP!” _

**“What? How did you?”**

He felt the fire return back to the utmost rear of his mind even as he melted back into his body, the sword in his right hand extinguishing itself as he dropped to the ground, it hissing when it touched the snow, even as he fell to his knees, taking deep breaths as if he had been on the edge of being choked to death.

_ “I’m not a monster!”  _ He stamped down the feelings and the thoughts and memory of what just happened.  _ “I’m not a monster- you said that you were giving me control! That was not control! That was not me!” _

Lion: “A shame. He was much stronger like that, yet now he threw it away for such a petty reason.”  
Roboute: “Are you serious, right now? He is a child- how can you say something like that?”  
Lion: “Children are capable of cruelties. I do not understand why you must coddle him so.”  
Magnus: “That does not mean they should do them! How is keeping him from committing violent slaughter at such a young age coddling him? This can scar him for life!”  
Lion: “It can also make sure he is better prepared for the world he will enter when he comes of age. Have both of you forgotten? This galaxy is neither good nor fair.”  
Roboute: “I am done speaking to you.”  
Lion: “Fine. Ignore my points. You know them to be right.”

**“It was the inner you. The true you.”**

_ “No! That can’t be me! I don’t want that to be me!” _

**“But it was.”**

_ “No! No, no, NO! I am  _ **_not_ ** _ like that! I… I’m not that cruel!” _

He felt a dark chuckle at the back of his head.  **“Perhaps you shall be better at this then I thought after all.”**

_ “What? What are you-” _

He felt as a hand grabbed him by his shoulder and turned to see one of the Scions standing there. “Sir?” A female voice coming from the Scion’s helmet spoke. “Are you… alright?”

He panted, the adrenaline from earlier was wearing off. “I… I’ll be fine. I think I used too much power all at once… Can you help me up?”

The Scion pulled him to his feet, the two making their way back to the bunker, passing by the friendly guardsmen who watched him with quiet awe and fear.

As they entered, Yarrick and the Lieutenant looked at him. Questions no doubt on their mind.

“Good job Explicator.” Yarrick said, maintaining eye contact, making Aegidius squirm. “But not enough I’m afraid to say.” He looked back at the centrally projected hololith.

“There are far more where that came from.” The Lieutenant sighed. “The corruption must be planet wide.”

“The daemon means there are far worse things than just traitors out there.” Yarrick pointed out. “And we have far too little men left to repel even a second wave.”

“Sir.” The Lieutenant sighed, looking out of the bunker. “Here they come.” Spotting the second wave in the distance, already approaching their position.

Aegidius thought, trying to think of a solution, even as a low vibration was picked up by his Aeldari ears. “Wait.” He spoke, perking up, before running outside and looking back, behind their own line where a massive amount of ice and snow began to fall from a small hill, revealing that it in fact wasn't a naturally made hill at all but...

“A webway gate.” He turned and saw that Yarrick and the Lieutenant, along with the Scions have come back to see for themselves what was happening.

Roboute: *Leans back, rubbing at his eyes* “Please… please…”

“We… we need to get to it.” Aegidius spoke. “We need to pull the line back there.”

“Are those the reinforcements?” Yarrick asked.

“I can’t be sure.” Aegidius squirmed. “But it’s a very good chance that they are.”

Yarrick looked at him, sighed once and turned. “Raln!” He shouted and the Guardsmen from before came running, combat dressing adorning a bleeding left arm. “Pull the line back to that gate. Now!”

It took a total of about ten standards minutes for the line to move back. The heavier pieces of artillery which couldn’t be moved in time instead being disabled even as the remaining Guardsmen took positions around the gate behind any scrap of cover they could find or put together in the short amount of time.

“Here they come, hold your ground!” The Lieutenant shouted even as they began to fire at the encroaching traitor Guardsmen.

Not even a minute into the fight, the Lieutenant went down. An errant las-bolt hitting her in the head, killing her instantly even as Yarrick shouted out war cries, the Scions focused fire at the closest target and Aegidius shot at the traitors with his own Las pistol, the Emperor being oddly quiet during all of this.

“Are they coming?” Yarrick asked, shooting still.

“I… I don’t know!” Aegidius shouted, taking a shot at another closeby traitor, squeezing his eyes closed as he did so and not trying to think about the fact that he was killing people.

**“They are.”**

_ “What?”  _

**“Tell them to duck.”**

“Uh- duck! Everyone DUCK!” The Guardsmen obeyed, even as the Webway gate opened with an ethereal shudder even as shuriken and plasma projectiles flew out of hit, hitting and killing the enemy.

It was followed by laughter, giggling and the bells from their hats as the Eternal Dance of the Fall began to be acted out as the Harlequins jumped out of the gate and danced amongst the traitors as if they weren’t there in the first place. In less than a blink of an eye, many of those who had reached the secondary defences were already dead. Laughter escorted their death’s as the trope tore through them almost as if they were nothing.

All the while, the Avatar of the trope began to come closer to Aegidius, closing in while dancing. Everything else around them ignoring him, the Scions apparently having not even noticed him.

**“Wait… he feels familiar.”**

_ What? You know a Harlequin? _

**“No… that’s-”**

The Emperor was violently cut off as the Avatar began to chuckle. A deep and uncontrollable bout of laughter soon took over as he got closer.

Magnus: “Wha-what? How did the Avatar cut off a thought?”  
Emperor: “WAIT A FUCKING MINUTE-”

**“That is-”**

More laughter that somehow cut off the Emperor directly from Aegidius’ mind as the Avatar danced around him. Time itself appeared to be effected as he touched upon Aegidius’ mind, laughing more and more as he did so.

“The punchline of the entire existence!” The Avatar proclaimed even as he continued to dance around, laughing nearly uncontrollably. “The joke of jokes.” He nearly missed a step as it laughed. “Jesting amongst jesters.” A final chuckle as he finished the dance by falling onto his knees in front of Aegidius and closing in, face to face, to an uncomfortably close distance.

Emperor: “WAIT. THERE IS ONLY ONE ASSHOLE THAT I KNOW WHO SPEAKS LIKE THAT!”

**“THAT-”**

“Is the master plan.” The Avatar appeared to finish Aegidius’ thought, causing a massive bout of panic to begin and swirl inside of the young Emperor. “Millennia in the making.” He chuckled again. “But remember, sometimes a play, is just a play.” He laughed even as he danced away, time returning to normal as he and the entire trope began to dance back into the Webway portal that had revealed itself, sinking into it even as a sudden bout of reality settled over Aegidius.

“That was-”

**“CEGORACH! I tried to tell you! Idiotic clown.”**

Emperor: “THAT MOTHER FUCKER I SWEAR-”  
Magnus: “You know Cegorach!?”  
Emperor: “HONESTLY. HOW ARE YOU EVEN SURPRISED AT THIS POINT?”

“What was  **he** doing here?” Aegidius nearly shouted in shock.

His answer came in the form of the Webway spitting out a  _ very _ familiar presence, causing the dread in Aegidius to vanish and be replaced by another emotion entirely.

“Mom!”

Roboute: *Collapses completely now* “Oh thank fuck, he’s safe… thank… fuck…”

**...  
206.M42 - The Fortress of Hera - Chapter Armorium  
** **...**

Sanguinius: “You know what? I’m happy for the transition. Especially after what just happened.”   
Magnus: “No kidding.”   
Corvus: “I am so ready for this to be done already…”

Captain Tarkus sat on the ornate bench in front of an arming chamber in the main Armorium of the Fortress of Hera. The tranquil incense of countless sanctification and the smells of oil and machining rike in the air.

From what he had heard after his sudden, and none too gentle rebirth, he was to be given some armour and weaponry befitting his status from the Ultramarines own Reliquaries.

“Ah, a new body to fit to.” The tranquil hum of a voice, marred with Vox corruption interrupted his thoughts, causing him to unconsciously squeeze the trinket he held in his hand.

He attempted to stand, but a mechanical prosthetic of a hand pushed him back down immediately. “Please remain sitting, I have already begun my scans.” A Marine walked in front of him, his black and silver armour along with the extensive amount of augmetics he possessed quickly identified him.

“An Iron Hand.” Tarkus spoke. “A surprise to see one of the sons of Ferrus here.”   
  
Ferrus: “But not unwelcome. It gladdens me to see that my sons still fight in this future.”  
Fulgrim: “Some good news for a change, refreshing.”

“Dire times I am afraid.” The Iron Hand spoke as he rounded Tarkus. “An interesting feeling, is it not? To grow more then ever originally intended by the Emperor, yet come closer to one's progenitor.” The Marine hummed, a mechadendrite extending to probe one of Tarkus’ newly revealed connection points. 

“Yes…” Tarkus mused. “I am still getting used to-”

A positive ping sounded from the Iron Hand and he cut Tarkus off. “Ah yes, good, good. I have a suit which can be adapted to your body fairly easily.” He waved at some Servitors, which skittered off to do their masters bidding 

“An uh, the mark and make-”

“Not fully standard I am afraid.” The Iron Hand rumbled, going to a nearby control panel which controlled the Reliquary opposite of where Tarkus was sitting.

“By that you mean?”

“Well, no Terminator armour adapted to Primaris ever is. Although, if it does soothe your soul, it began its life as Cataphractii.”

“That is-”

“Here it is.” The Iron Hand pulled a lever and the Reliquary doors opened to behold the massive form of Cataphractii Terminator Power armour.

Tarkus starred at the intricate work of wargear. It was unpainted, its ceramite plates and adamantium framework instead colored a metallic grey. It was far larger than his old terminator armour from the days of the Great Crusade. Though that was logical, him being taller and-

What was that?

The Iron Hand, who was just about to reach for the controls to lower the Power Armour, turned around at the door.

“Is that?” Tarkus turned as well. “Banging?”

Ferrus: “Why?”  
Perturabo: “I have no clue.”  
Vulkan: “I do not want more heart break this chapter…”

“It is.” The Iron Hand nodded and walked over, pressing the door rune and causing the massive armoured doors which lead to the arming chamber to immediately open, revealing-

“Lukas, Herris, Olivre.” Tarkus immediately began to scold. “What are you doing here?” The Squires all gasped, and immediately closed their eyes shut.

Lukas, always the clever one, stepped forward, clearing his throat and keeping his eyes closed along with the rest of the boys when they had noticed Tarkus’ near undressed state. “It is the duty of the squire, to help his Sir to make ready for battle or joust by helping him dorn his armour.” He recited clearly from the Squires Codex. 

The Iron Hand turned slowly to Tarkus. Then back to the boys. “I believe you shall not be able to lift even a single armoured plate.” He then walked back to the Reliquary.

Herris puffed up in anger at this, “Alroight listen tah me ye big metal dolt, ah won’t be takin any orders from ye, ye ain’t mysir!” Olivre then grabbed Herris and turned him in the right direction of the Iron Hand.

Roboute: “...at least it’s not Titus Pullo and Lucius Vorenus again.”  
Leman: “Ah like them!” *Snickers*

“His voice is coming from that way, Herris.”

“Aye, thank ye fer that. Now where was I- ah won’t be takin any lip from yer when mysir is actually here and doesn’t sound loike he has his armor melted inta his skin-”

“Boys. Just… open your eyes and look-”

“Ney! Have yer lost yer senses Captain Tarkus!?” The young Toscian shook his head, unbelieving of this.

Olivre and Lukas nodded along hastily. “You are in a state of undress unbefitting to be seen by other eyes since you are as of yet unmarried.” Lukas pointed out.

Leman: *Chuckling* “Marriage… hehe.”  
Fulgrim: “At least they’re polite…”  
Lion: “I suppose.”

Olivre then paused, “wait, wasn’t-”

“Ney. Do not speak of Captain Tarkus’ private life in front of someone who does not know him.” Lukas quickly shut him down, the Yngfeldian hating when his own people were talked about like this.

Mortarion: “Wait what?”  
Sanguinius: “What was he going to say?”  
Konrad: “I don’t know. But probably nothing important. I don’t care.”  
Sanguinius: “But- But… Lore…”  
Lorgar: “If you want lore, I will send you more Colchisian sh-”  
“Can you shut the fuck up-”   
“-so we can finish this!?”  
Vulkan: “Even the twins have begun to have enough...”

“Ah yes. Silly me.” The Angevin was sometimes too polite for his own good.

The Iron Hand had long since apparently begun to ignore the boys and deployed the armour with an audible thud, controlling many arms to deploy from secret compartments and some of the arming servitors to return and begin to pry at the massive ceramite plates with their augmented arms.

“Captain Tarkus. Please, step forward and be armoured.” The Iron Hand notioned. “And do so quickly, before your…  _ escort _ touches anything already sanctified and insults the Machine Spirit within it.”

Tarkus did so with all due haste. Knowing that the boys would not back off and stop paying attention to their own primitive and outdated code. It was easier this way. At least, so he had reasoned with himself.

Credit where credit was due. The Iron Hand was a master of his craft, as renowned even in the days of the Great Crusade. The armouring went by quickly and effectively and was complete in just under five minutes. The boys struggling to keep their eyes closed with the mirriad of noises going on in front of them.

Finally, the reactor on his back was sealed and activated with a resounding clang even as the helmet was lowered onto his head. His armour integrated fully while beginning to display life signs even as the targeting system’s calibrated themselves as the Iron Hand cleaned up.

“Boys.” He spoke, his voice now a deep rumble and thick with Vox corruption. “You may look.”

Lukas almost cried from how beautiful the armor was. But it was Herris who spoke up, “how tah hells are ye able ta walk?”

Olivre sighed, “Herris. He can walk with magick. Obviously.”

Magnus: “Uh oh…”  
Ferrus: “Now they did it…”  
Lorgar: “Dive for cover-”

“Boys, boys.” Tarkus held up a hand, even as the Iron Hand whirled on Olivre.

“Magick? What kind of Heresy do you speak of in my Armorium?” The Iron Hand chided, raising a finger. “He moves with the help of tactical servos, which in turn are powered by the fission reactor mounted to his armour.”

“Da fook is a reactor?” Herris had no idea what the Iron Hand was talking about.

The Iron Hand turned slowly to Tarkus, who raised a hand to calm the Marine and stepped forward, surprised at just how precise the servos in fact were for Terminator armour. “They are from a feudal world cousin, and do not yet understand.”

The Iron Hand nodded and pointed in the direction of the exit. “Please. Off with you cousin, I have more to attend to. And take your errand boys with you. I detest the idea of them touching anything and ruining the Machine Spirits within.”

Tarkus was quick to usher the boys out, “come along boys. That is the only warning we shall receive.”

“Captain Tarkus, you’re even taller than before…” Lukas was starry eyed, looking up at his master and wondering if he shall one day be as big as him.

“Yes, yes. I’m big. Let's move along now.” He ushered out his squires, all three of them gushing about how cool his armor looked and demanding if they could one day be like him. He was glad to be answering their questions, the feeling of normalcy returning with force.

Sanguinius: “He’s acting like a father to them…”  
Fulgrim: “Adorable.”

**...**

Aegidius was swept up into the arms of his mother, she was holding onto him tightly and burying her face into his hair. She refused to let him leave her grasp, even moving with lightning fast reflexes to throw a shuriken blade at a traitor then back to holding her precious boy. Alorynis beside her in a moment and currently was pacing a circle around her and her son.

“Aegidius… I’m so happy you’re alright.” She squeezed him tighter, making him nearly wheeze from the pressure.

“Mom! I’m so glad you’re here- please can you lighten up it’s hard to breathe-”

Magnus: “Ha. No way, child. You are not getting out of her grasp until she is done smothering you with affection.”  
Kornad: “Eugh. Affection.”

“Never! You were taken from Macragge and now you’re here in the middle of a battleground, I am not letting you out of my sight until I am sure you’re safe, sound and back in your room!” She glanced at another traitor, smiting him with a shock of lightning before going back to tightly hugging her son. “Alorynis, please go and have fun, I can protect my precious, darling boy myself.”

Alorynis flicked his tail and quickly stalked into enemy lines and began to tear through traitor guardsmen like they were little more than a gyrinx toy crafted by humans.

Nearby, the Custodes had burst from the Webway gate and were delivering divine justice upon the traitors, passing by Aegidius and his mother. Usually he would be marvelling at how amazing and graceful and deadly the Custodes were in the middle of their own dance of death… But he was currently preoccupied with having his face shoved into his mother’s bosom as she hugged him and checked him over for any damages.

**“Best place in the galaxy.”**

Roboute: “ **FATHER** .”  
Emperor: “AW COME ON, TITTIES ARE TITTIES. CAN YOU BLAME ME FOR ENJOYING THEM, EVEN INDIRECTLY?”  
Horus: “...I will remember that.”  
Emperor: “WHAT? WHAT DO YOU- DON’T YOU DARE. IMPERIAL DECREE-”  
Horus: “NO! NO! No, you do not get to make an Imperial Decree to stop me from not only telling everyone you’re an ass man but also to stop me from telling that Liv person-”  
Emperor: “IMPERIAL DECREE- SILENCE UPON MY DEMAND-”  
Konrad: “That’s not how decree’s wor-”   
Emperor: “IN EFFECT NOW! EVERYONE SHUT UP.”

_ Do not ever say that again about my mother! _ He practically ground out to his grandfather while also suffering under the attention of his mother who still hadn’t let him go… and probably wouldn’t let him go for hours. “Mom. Mom, it’s okay, I’m okay. Please let me go-”

“Never. I am going to stay by your side until we are back home and I am positive you will be safe and sound. Besides, you’re blossoming and I need to be there to help you.”

Aegidius went red, groaning at his mother’s attention. “Mooooom… Please, can we not talk about my blossoming right now? I’m in the middle of a battlefield…” He couldn’t stop the whining, even if he tried.

“Which is why I must help you get it under control now, or else you’ll spiral out of control. Now, have you been experiencing sharper eyesight or hearing?” She then pulled back slightly, turning his face from side to side, intently looking him over as the Custodes and Harlequins were making short work of the traitors and were setting up a point of defense. “The hearing and the eyesight is the worst part of blossoming, sweetie, and I need to know-”

“Mom please! Not now!”

“Emissary!” The Visarch interrupted. “The Harlequins are leaving!” He pointed at the webway gate, and how the rest of the Harlequins were dancing through it.

“The rest of my brothers have yet to get through.” A Custodes Shield-Captain pointed out, approaching Aegidius even as his Guardian spear shot at and killed a traitor. “I recommend you pull to the rear and keep the Emperor safe.”

“Agreed. Come, Aegidius. A battlefield is no place for a child such as you.” She cooed to her boy and dragged him off to the rear, making her son let out distressed sounds. Alorynis was returning to her side, the normal blue fur now drenched in the red blood of the enemy.

Rogal: “Heh. Irony.”  
Emperor: “ROGAL. WHAT DID I JUST SAY!?”  
Rogal: “What-”  
Emperor: “SILENCE. SHUSH.”

“Mom. Mom please, I can walk. Mom! Mom do not carry me-” He was then swept up into his mother’s arms, carried easily by her as she brought him to the rear.

“Uhm, Sir?” One of the Scions from before ran next to him to catch up. “Are you… in peril?”

“What- no! This is my mother, she’s just really overprotective and  **clingy** !”

“Well Sir, if your mother does not mind, we could certainly use the help of both of you.” The Scion pointed behind them.

Yvraine, held her son even as she shot a glare at the scions, “He is a child. He shall not lift another finger here. We have both Harlequins and Custodes here. Ask them to help instead.” She practically snarled at the scion.

“The Harlequins are gone ma’am.” One of the Scions pointed out even as the last one just jumped back into the webway and were replaced with the rest of the Custodes exiting the Webway.

“Then deal with it yourself!” She hissed, eager to leave as soon as possible. “There aren’t many left, you can deal with a few traitors.”

“Yes well.” One of the Scions sighed. “Tell that to the Daemon.”

She blinked and turned around to see Alorynis already dashing from her side to jump straight into the feathered Greater Daemon, who caught the Gyrinx and threw the psychic cat to the side of the webway gate, shattering it. Yvraine paused and looked to the Webway gate, seeing it close and shatter as the last of the Custodes exited the gate. “By Khaine’s fiery ballsack…” She put Aegidius down and called down Visarch. “Visarch. Protect Aegidius.”

She didn’t wait to hear Visarch’s response, instead drawing her crone sword and readying her battle fan. No one threw Alorynis like that…

Aegidius got to watch as his mother leapt into battle, witnessing her twisting and swirling battle dance. Alorynis had gotten back up with a limp and was by his mistress’s side, joining her own dance of death against the Greater Daemon.

As much of a vision she was in battle, even Aegidius could tell she wouldn’t be able to take down the Greater Daemon. He was pulled back by the Visarch, who was loudly grumbling about his duties.

“Take care of the spawn. Honestly, that woman wouldn’t dare let me upstage her on the battlefield, instead she makes me the babysitter of her damned spawn…”

**“May I take over? For just a second? Insulting my corporeal container is a bit much for my pride to be honest.”**

Roboute: *Presumably dying noises*

_ “Really?”  _ Aegidius groaned.  _ “What are you going to do?” _

**“Get him off of your back.”**

_ “I… I don’t know-” _

**“One second.”**

_ “Fine. Just, be quick ok?” _

True to the Emperor’s word, the fire flared in his mind for only a second. A second in which a massive pulse slammed out from Aegidius’ body, throwing the Visarch even as Aegidius took the opportunity to run, the Scions immediately keeping up with him even as he ran towards…

“Commissar! Commissar!” He shouted, barely being heard over the deafening noise of the battlefield.

But it was enough. Yarrick smashed a traitor out of the way with his power klaw and looked at Aegidius. “What?” He shouted back.

“Tell your men to focus on the Daemon! My mother will never be able to take it by herself!” He pointed vigorously in his mother's direction, the duel dragging down to a stalemate as the Daemon cackled and Yarrick swore.

“Emperor’s teeth. Fine.” He pressed onto his vox beed, and soon enough, the few remaining guns of the Guardsmen turned and fired on the Daemon to the best of their ability even as the Custodes swept up what remained of the enemy armour.

But it wasn’t enough. Yvraine was slowly but surely beginning to lose. The Daemon obviously in its masters' favour as it teleported around her, fending off her strikes with a pair of massive wings whose shape shifted from swords to feathers in less than the blink of an eye.

It made Aegidius nearly throw up from the worry and anxiety he suddenly felt even as the Scions knelt in the snow and fired their own Hellguns towards the Daemon, barely scratching it.

_ “Grandfather… can… can you help?” _

**“Ah, so now you require my help.”**

_ “I-I…”  _ Aegidius squirmed.  _ “I-I… please-” _

**“Seeming as you asked so nicely, I would normally answer yes. But no.”**

_ “What- wha- WHY!?” _

**“I am unneeded.”**

_ “Wha!?” _

**“A true Emperor always knows all the players upon the Regicide board.”**

Horus: *Pointedly looks at the Emperor*  
Emperor: “A FAVOURED PROVERB OF MINE.”

*Many glare at the Emperor*

_ “What has-”  _ Aegidius' mind trailed off even as his subconscious extended, making him feel every one of the Custodes that he was somehow linked to on another level. Wait…  _ he  _ was here! So where-

His question was answered by the form of the Daemon suddenly letting out a scream of pain. Yvraine danced out of the way of the Daemons staff even as its hand parted from its wrist by the blade of a massive Guardian Spear.

“Constantin!” Aegidius shouted, some relief entering him. 

The Captain-General twirled the spear around, blocking the Daemon's wing, even as Yvraine jumped back to it. “I thank you for the distraction Emissary.” Constantin spoke, side-stepping a burst of psychic lightning from the Daemon even as Yvraine slashed at the Daemon from behind, drawing its attention to her again as the Daemon spewed curses in a tongue never before heard.

“Understand this  _ Telesphion _ .” The Daemon let out an otherworldly shout of outrage at its  _ real  _ name being revealed and used. “No one stands with a hand raised in harm before the Emperor, and lives.” Constantin finished, dashing forward as the Daemons wings glanced off of his ornate Auromite Power Armour. Reaching his target, the Apollonian Spear struck the Daemon directly where its heart was supposed to be even as Yvraine leapt, the Daemon screaming silenced immediately as the Crone Sword cut off its head. The Daemon’s body stood for a few seconds before gravity pulled it down, crashing into the snow covered ground as its body began to unravel, as dead as can be.

**...**

Yvraine was pulling on Aegidius' ear.  _ Hard.  _ “How dare you not listen to me and run into the thick of the fighting and endanger yourself like that!?” She pulled harder, “When I tell you to do something, you do it because you trust my judgement! Or do you somehow believe you know better than your mother!?”

Aegidius, for his own part, was desperately looking for an exit, looking at Constantin and Pupponius in the distance. The former was just shaking his head and the latter simple looked away, making Aegidius gasp in shock.

“Don’t you look to them to help you! They know not to get between me and you right now! Do you have any idea how worried I was about you!? By Isha’s grace, I birthed you into this world and it is my duty to make sure you are safe and sound! How can you expect me to do that if you run off and put yourself into danger!? By Khaine, I swear-”

Jaghatai: *Snort laughter*  
Vulkan: *Shudders*  
Roboute: *Faraway look in his eyes*

“Mom I’m sorry!” Aegidius cringed, letting out whines as his mother tugged at his poor ears. It didn’t help that his sense of hearing and touch we're going haywire right now and everything she was doing was amplified by a hundred.  _ Grandfather! Help me! _

**“Oh hell no. You were the one who decided to go against your mother.”**

_ “Are you seriously running away from my mother!?”  _ He was tugged again, forcing him to look back up at his mother.

“Are you even listening to me!? Do you have any idea how much trouble you are in right now? Stealing a rosette, using it to leave the planet, impersonating an Inquisitor- actually I kind of hate them and respect that since you kept cover for a while-” She spied the Scions who were shaking their heads at this. She huffed, “-anyway. When we get home, your father is going to have words with you! I may be your mother and may be able to make your emotionally suffer for what you did, but your father is-”

“H-hold on mom.” He cut her off, making his mother wait for whatever it was he was going to say. “C-Commissar Yarrick and the Scions… they saved my life. I would have died twenty times over if not for them… He kept me safe even when my cover was blown. So can you stop screaming at me and thank them?” He thought for a second then added in, “if not for them mum, I would be dead.”

Yvraine sighed and closed her eyes, taking a breather even as she let go of Aegidius’ tender ears even as she knelt down and whispered. “You are lucky this has not caused a massive political incident.” She then stood, wiping away the blood on her skirt. “Commissar, Scions.” She addressed them with a friendly looking smile even as the Scions remained still and the Commissar raised an inquisitive brow. 

“I would like to… sincerely thank you, on my  _ idiotic sons behalf. _ ” She spoke through clenched teeth, making Aegidius shudder at the upcoming consequences. “Nevertheless, your names please, so that I may pass them on to my Husband and have you justly rewarded.”

“Tempestor Squad Gladius.” One of the Scions stepped forward and saluted. “That will not be necessary ma'am. Duty is its own reward in the service of his Emperor’s most Holy Inquisition.”

The Commissar sighed, but stepped forward. “Commissar Sebastian Yarrick.” He nodded towards his few remaining men. “I seek no reward, nor to curry favour with the Lord Commander. Simply take care of my men.”

“If that is what you wish.” She spoke diplomatically.

Things had finally begun to calm down after that. What few remained living of the Guard had gathered even as Constantin ensured that the transport he had sent before going through the Webway gate would arrive in due time.

“Sir!” The Vox operator shouted from his position, getting Yarrick’s attention. “The lines aren’t jammed anymore and… I am receiving missives from orbit.”

“The Custodes?” Yarrick asked, hopeful that they would finally get to leave this rock.

“No sir… the missives mark them as Inquisitorial.” 

Yarrick’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “So, they miss the show and expect to help us now?”

“No sir… they are demanding coordinates for safe teleportation.”

Yvraines sanity was heard snapping. “Nevermind, we do have a political incident.”

Yarrick sighed. “Give them the coordinates.”

Not even a minute later, the flash of lightning and growl of thunder saw multiple people appear in the middle of the ravaged camp, causing Aegidius to swallow nervously.

There were four Grey Knights, but that wasn’t what he was nervous about.

In between the four, there stood Lord Inquisitor Hector Rex himself.

**[++This scene was REDACTED by the Inquisition on the orders of the Emperor himself++]**

Roboute: “What? They can do that!?”  
Lorgar: “Hold on- How can you censor a magical vid that came from an interdimensional reality chest that travels through space and time?”  
Emperor: “I’M NOT SURE, BUT MY IMPERIAL DECREE-”  
Konrad: “You know what- fuck your decrees I’m not staying silent because you’re being pissy.”  
Emperor: “I WILL NOT FORGET THIS, KONRAD-”  
Konrad: “Blow me.”

**...  
** **206.M42 - Above Bastonye, Oberon Battleship -** **_The Emperor’s Will  
..._ **

Yarrick stood in chains in front of the half-moon grand table, behind which sat a variety of people.

On the flanks sat a representative of the Astra Militarum and Imperial Navy alike. Further in on the right sat an, as of yet, unnamed Grey Knight and Constantin Valdor on the left. On the right of just the center sat Lord Inquisitor Hector Rex and in the true center sat the Emperor, Aegidius Guilliman, his Mother standing behind him with a hand on his oversized throne.

Yarrick swallowed. The chains heavy upon him as he was put under the scrutiny of all the present people.

By all rights, the only thing that the Lord Inquisitor should have done upon hearing of the sheer scale of heresy amongst his regimentos should have been to put a bolt between his eyes.

But instead, upon the Emperor’s own orders, and only because of them. He and his remaining Guardsmen were chained and thrown into cells to await judgement. The Emperor somehow even managed to convince the Inquisitor not only not to execute them on the spot but also not destroy the planet via exterminatus.

“If what we have heard is true.” The Grey Knight was the first to break the silence. “Then you have survived what could be no less described as a miracle.”

“Agreed.” Lord Hector Rex chimed in. “The fact you not only survived this amount of chaotic taint spread throughout your regiment, but managed to avoid it so much as touching you is… unusual.”

Yarrick could only nod, advice given to him by the Custodes themselves, supposedly words relayed from the Emperor himself.

“My Emperor.” The General of the Astra Militarum turned to Aegidius, who looked every bit the nervous and out of place child that he most likely was. “Are you sure of this man?”

“He is a hero, my Emperor.” The Naval representative spoke. “But the taint of Chaos can not be undermined.”

“The safe option would be to eliminate him and be done with it.” The Grey Knight agreed.

Aegidius lifted a hand and tried to speak.

“Let us not forget the subject of his age. Most unnatural, that one lives so long.” The Inquisitor added again, causing Yarrick to close his eyes. It was a doomed cause-

“Silence!” The commanding voice of Constantin Valdor ordered even as an armoured hand hit the table. “The Emperor wishes to speak.”

Yarrick opened his eyes and looked at Aegidius as the Emperor looked to the Lord Inquisitor. “Lord Inquisitor…” He began reluctantly. “According to-to the codex of the Ordo Malleus… can’t-” The young Emperor swallowed. “Can’t Commissar Yarrick and the few remaining guardsmen be… examined for heresy.” The Emperor appeared to speak reluctantly even as Yarrick realized what he was doing just as the room exploded into conversation once more, including onto the subject of the planet.

“Enough!” The ancient voice of Lord Hector commanded. “The Emperor is correct.” He breathed. “If he so wishes it, the planet shall be purged by hand as discussed with him in private.”

There were murmurs of agreement.

“What of the survivors?” The General asked.

The Lord Inquisitor stood, looking Yarrick directly into his one remaining regular eye and announced. “Their faith will be tested.  _ Thoroughly.” _

Corvus: “Oh boy.”  
Leman: “Well, if he lives through this, at least we’ll know he’s a good choice.”  
Lion: “Fair.”

**…**

The memory of that tribunal echoed across Yarrick’s memory now, along with the chanting hymns of the flying Cyber Cherubim which echoed around the interrogation chamber. Various clerics and interrogators surrounded the chair he was strapped in even as various lines of truth serums and stims were attached and the excruciator prepared as the Lord Inquisitor himself descended into the chamber.

“Begin.” He ordered even as the door to the chamber slammed shut and was filled with Yarrick’s screams of pain.

**…**

He awoke with a start, looking around in panic before the counter septic smell of the Apothecarium filled his nose and sight returned to both his eyes just as he realized that he was lying upon a bed.

Perturabo: “Good choice, then.”

“You are awake.” A deep voice started, causing Yarrick to turn and see a Custodes standing before him. “I am Shield-Captain Pupponius, the Emperor’s personal caretaker.”

Yarrick reached back slowly and rubbed his aching head. “What… what happened?”

“You passed.” The Custodes stated simply.

“Who else?” Yarrick asked quickly, his thoughts falling to that of his men. 

“Only one. A man known by the name Raln.” 

The confirmation caused Yarrick to release a sigh, even as he let his head hit the pillow. His entire body was still in shock and slight pain from the interrogation. “Why am I here?” He finally dared ask.

“I am to congratulate you on your promotion to the rank of General-Commissar. As the Emperor himself has claimed your long life in the service of the Imperium to have gone unrewarded to be ‘criminal and obscene’ and has seen to it personally that you are rewarded for your valiant service.”

Yarrick had a tough time believing that, having seen Aegidius up close and personal for long enough.

“Why am I  _ here _ .” Yarrick asked again. The decorations of the room were not sparse and bone white such as they would be onboard the vessel of a Space Marine ship. Nor were they filled with the typical motivational posters or stark grey of an Astra Militarum transport.

Instead, they were rich with artifice. Even the Apothecarium so tastefully decorated and obviously very well kept. 

“You are onboard the Cruiser-class  _ Aurum _ . On route to Macragge. Once we reach the Fortress of Hera you are to stay there where you shall be given quarters suitable of your rank and embedded as and  _ only _ as the Emperor’s personal tutor on the matters of war.”

Yarrick swallowed, taking an ornate canteen of water and downing it, noting that unlike on other ships, the water didn’t even have the taste of being recycled. “And what if I refuse?” He asked, even as he put the canteen down.

The Custodes turned and began to walk away. “You will not, Commissar-General.”

As soon as the Custodes was out the door, Yarrick closed his eyes and sighed.

No… of course he would not refuse. One did not refuse the Emperor. Even if said Emperor was half the time a bumbling child and the other half an unstoppable killing machine who could burn down everything in his sight… he had _ a lot _ of work to do.

Roboute: “Well… there are worse tutors to choose from.”  
Horus: “Agreed.”  
Corvus: “Yup…”  
Rogal: “Indeed.”  
Roboute: “...please let this be over already…”

**...**

Sanguinius: “WHY WON’T IT END!?”  
Lorgar: “I thought you wanted content?”  
Sanguinius: “It’s dragging on!”

“Mortarion. A question, if you will?” Roboute asked his brother, standing outside the Armorium and welcoming back Captain Tarkus and his successful transition. Once the Captain was far enough away, Roboute was adamant about a certain subject in his mind. Beyond the elation that Mortarion’s gene-seed was pure and their Father really did give him a second chance…

The subject of their sire was enough to bring up the dire question that was swimming in Roboute’s mind.

Mortarion nodded at this, awaiting whatever it was that Roboute would speak to him about.

“Do you recall how close our Father kept the Custodes to Him? How He included them into His plans?”

“I do not enjoy the memories, however, yes, I do recall. I was a different person back then, but I do recall how He favoured them heavily.” Mortarion had no idea where this line of questioning was going, but chose to indulge Roboute.

Roboute paused, unsure if voicing the thought that hung behind him at all times was a good idea or not. But he had to speak, else he feared he would be alone in this predicament. “And you recall how the Custodes jumped at the opportunity to go and find Aegidius with my wife?” He paused then added in, “And are you aware that they invited themselves to be the protectors of Aegidius when they first arrived?”

“Where are you leading me with this line of pseudo questions?” Something that would never change about his brother… The need to just cut to the chase.

“I believe my son is the vessel for our Father’s soul.”

The silence that grew between brothers grew with each passing eternal moment. Mortarion thought back to what their Father was capable of, and knew deep down that their Father would use the body of a child, his grandchild, to return to life. No matter how much time passed, he knew that he would always have the experience of being around the Emperor and His horrible actions.

Sanguinius: “Hold up! This isn’t filler anymore!”  
Roboute: “So the me of the future has come to the same conclusion as well.”  
Emperor: “I… SUPPOSE, LET’S GET ON WITH IT-”   
Roboute: “No. You don’t get to talk your way out of this. We are not moving on, you will explain. Now.”  
Emperor: “ARE YOU DEMANDING THIS OF ME?”  
Everyone else: “YES!”  
Emperor: “YOU WANT ME TO SIT HERE AND EXPLAIN EVERYTHING THAT I AM PLANNING? OR HOW ABOUT YOU WATCH AND SEE YOUR BROTHER’S REASONINGS FIRST?”

“Are you sure that is your son, then?”

“I am sure.” Roboute did not even entertain such a notion. “I know that Aegidius is still himself, still my son. But I also know that our Father used him to return to life. I know not the extent of control that He has over him, however, I do know that He resides inside of him… Like a squatter inside a condemned building.”

“And you know this, how?” He was curious about the evidence that Roboute had for such a preposterous claim.

“His shadow. Aegidius’ shadow changes when Father is in control. His eyes change as well, increasing his intelligence, his speed and power. He even can gain some of Father’s psychic potential, point being, when he almost attempted to kill Konrad not too long ago.” He took a deep breath, that day would haunt him for a long time. “His mannerisms change as well, the way he sits, talks, acts. You can tell when Father takes over, it is almost as if I am talking to the Emperor again when He is in control. And now, I realize it explains the out bursts Aegidius has had throughout his life. When he killed his last psychic tutor, summoned angels, opened a warp tear to teleport to his room, summoned a greater daemon in the war room… And most damning of all…” He lowered his voice, causing Mortarion to pay closer attention to the final piece of evidence. “...He can awaken a Custodes Dreadnought with nothing but his voice and mere presence.”

Mortarion was quiet for a long time.

“So. Father has returned.” Roboute nodded at this. Mortarion sighed, “I can see Him using his own psychic connection to his grandchild as a vessel to return. How long?”

“If what I have gathered is true, his entire life. I still remember the first two weeks of Aegidius’ life. He was in true, extreme pain since birth. That moment wasn’t just the pain of being born, it was the pain of Father attaching himself to my son and causing the Astronomicon to flare to life once more. I know it, I truly know it deep within myself.” He let out a shuddering breath. “If I could, I would…” He shook his head, “my own son is a prisoner to our bastard of a Father.”

Mortarion only stayed silent. It was a lot to know that their Father was alive, well, and using his own nephew to return to life like some unholy lich feeding off of the life force of the living.

Which, honestly, is what He did before.

“How is this any different from back when he walked among us? Or when he was confined to his throne?” Mortarion asked, his voice gentle, yet firm.

“He wasn’t using my son to live!”

“But He was using everyone around him to do his bidding.” Mortarion pointed out.

“It’s different! He’s using my son to live instead of the countless menials that he used before-” He stopped himself, finally voicing the terrible thought that had been dancing in the back of his mind.

“Do not cloud your judgement because of sentimental attachment Roboute.” Mortarion chided. “Father has always been like this. We have always been his puppets, the tools he most liked to use. It is no different now. His excuse has and always will be the same, for the good of the Imperium and of Mankind, an excuse no one can argue against.”

Everyone: *Slowly turn to face their Father*  
Emperor: *Impassively waits*

“It’s just perfect isn’t it?” Roboute scowled, “He waits for the perfect vessel to come along. A child between human and aeldari, in a seat of power, sharing the same blood as He. He planned for this, I can not believe He gambled it all on this.”

“Did He?” Mortarion asked. “Did He well and truly gamble?”

“You and I both know he would. He has planned for deeper and longer schemes, it would not surprise me that he planned for this as well. He ordered me to answer the summons of the Aeldari when they called upon us before Terra was destroyed, He ordered me to play nice, I would not be remiss to point out that he most likely wanted all of this to happen...” He trailed off, then straightened as the realization hit him. “This wasn’t a gamble… He planned for all of this. He planned for me to return, He planned for me to lash out at Him, He planned for Yvraine and I to get closer, He planned for us to marry and have Aegidius… He planned and manipulated all of us to get to this point…”

“For all his faults, Father was never an unwise man.” Mortarion rumbled. “There is a scheme and well done reason behind Him giving my soul to Isha. It will unravel itself in due course.”

“And we can’t do so much as point a single accusatory finger without looking as if we have gone mad.” Roboute murmured in realization.

“There is a deeper meaning to everything our Father does and says. He always knew what to say and do to get anyone to do as He wished. No one could play the great game in a way such as He.” Mortarion lamented, “...But he has never been this cruel. Something has changed him, twisted him. He is different, uses different methods now.”

“Horus.” Roboute realized. “Horus changed him.” The Lord Commander sighed. “Rogal told me when Father found Sanguinius’ body on the  _ Vengeful Spirit _ . He wasn’t on the bridge, but he could feel the psychic backlash. He could feel the anger.”

“It broke him.” Mortarion spoke. “I realized that the second I saw the true Him upon His throne as He judged me.” A far away look was in his eye. “Whatever it was that happened on board that ship, it made what little was left of Father’s sympathy leave completely.”

“And made Him take on new methods.” Roboute murmured. “He waited. Planned anew. Bid for time.”

“Made Leman get lost in the warp in a pocket dimension until he could call back his executioner.” Mortarion realized. “Swore Vulkan to secrecy until he was needed again.” He looked at Roboute. “Kept you alive long enough to plant you in front of Fulgrim. Knowing that the only thing he needed to do was wait. All the while making sure I would eventually run into Him, and Isha could reach out to me.”

Roboute shook his head. “No. That doesn’t explain Rogal-”

“Rogal.” Mortarion spoke, just loud enough to catch the approaching Praetorian’s attention. “Was thrown into the warp aboard that accursed ship.”

“And kept safe somehow.” Rogal himself explained. “I survived and returned.”

“How?” Mortarion asked.

“With a call.” Rogal explained. “My oath to defend Terra.”

“Called by?” Roboute suddenly realized.

“The Custodes.” All three spoke at once.

“Constantin.” Rogal spoke grimly. “It would not surprise me if in fact his disappearance was a mere cover to ensure that Father’s plans would proceed according to His design.”

Roboute ran a hand along his face as he let out a long suffering sigh. “And there is nothing we can do except stand here and let it happen. He never once stopped playing the great game, He continued to play it even beyond the grave.” He looked to his brothers, “What is it that Father always said?”

Rogal was the one to supply the answer, “A true Emperor always knows all the players upon the Regicide board.”

“You don’t know the full of it.” Roboute finished the proverb, “But only the holder of the tarot knows when it shall be too late.”

The three Primarchs could only suffer in silence, the knowledge too heavy for them all to bear at the moment. Like pieces on the Regicide board, waiting for their next orders. One did not ever leave the board until their usefulness was at an end.

Magnus: “...You planned all of this for over eleven millenia.”  
Rogal: “-manipulated all of us surviving sons-”  
Perturabo: “-so that they could be recalled at any time during your machinations-”  
Roboute: “And intentionally planted us into the right circumstances so that we could then be manipulated further into doing what you wanted while thinking it was what we wanted-”  
Leman: “-which turned into all this time-”  
Jaghatai: “-to eventually lead to the actual plan of you manipulating one son to come back and sleep with an aeldari-”  
Vulkan: “-to have a child and have them be born into an advantageous position-”  
Fulgrim: “-so you can not only return to life-”  
Ferrus: “-but then also get access to not just humanity, but the Aeldari as well.”  
Emperor: “...YEAH, SOUNDS ABOUT RIGHT.”  
Every single one of the Primarchs: *INCOHERENT SCREAMING AND RAMBLING*

**…**

Sanguinius: “Wait! Everyone shut up! It’s not over!”  
Roboute: “WHY?!”

Roboute was sitting at his desk in his study, swirling a glass of Inwitian whiskey. Awaiting his son to return to Macragge and come meet him in his study.

Oh, he was livid at the idea of his son running away from home and putting himself into danger, but he was much more livid at his Father for allowing this to happen in the first place. He had many words piled high and waiting for the right moment to unleash them onto Him.

The hesitant knock on his door alerted Roboute to his son’s presence, causing him to place down his glass and let out a single, “Enter.”

Aegidius slipped into his Father’s study, ears lowered dramatically and his body language radiating fear and discomfort. “Hey… You… You called me?” He shrugged, clearing his throat when his voice came out cracked and childish.

Roboute: “Ah. Yes, I suppose this would have to happen…”

Roboute did not rise, he did not say anything, he merely nodded to the chair across from him and watched as his son quickly scrambled to the seat, sitting there and being dwarfed by the Astartes grade leather seat.

Aegidius sat there before his father, squirming under his gaze as his father took a sip from his glass, all while staring him down. Aegidius didn’t dare speak up, he knew how livid his mom was with him, now he had to sit there with his father…

“Did it even occur to you how dangerous this was?” Roboute spoke up after a full ten minutes of staring down his son. “This was, hands down, the most irresponsible thing you have ever done. And I can think of a long list of irresponsible things you’ve done in the past.”

Aegidius furrowed his brow, looking from side to side without moving. Sure, what he did was wrong and crazy and irresponsible… But what else did he do? Falling off of the outer wall wasn’t that bad compared to now…

“It wasn’t just the fact that you went off planet, it wasn’t the fact that you used an illegal rosette, it was how out of control the whole situation was. But you and I both know, it wasn’t out of control, was it?” He took another sip, emptying his glass and slamming down the glass, open end down, onto his desk. “You played with the lives of countless people, all of them a part of your sick little game.”

Lorgar: “Wait… you’re not talking to Aegidius.”  
Roboute: “No… No I’m not…”  
Sanguinius: “Well, you did just get done coming to a horrifying realization about him so… I don’t blame you.”

“I… I didn’t mean to- It wasn’t a sick game I swear-”

“And you have the gall, the absolute gall, to sit there and not even try to defend your actions.”

“But- But I am! I mean- no! No, I didn’t mean to, things got out of control and-”

Roboute sighed, running a hand along his face as he collected his thoughts. “And the worst part about all of this, is how you’ve backed me into a corner. I have so much I want to say, accuse you of, yet I know that if I do, you will turn it around to make me into the bad guy in this situation. You have done more than you are willing to admit, it is due to your actions, that I cannot even condemn you lest I look the part of the fool.” He let out a laugh, “And yet you continue to hide, not even having the stones to stop hiding behind your own grandson and answer for your transgressions.”

Aegidius snapped his jaw closed, the click audible in the study. His ears pricked up, the dance before him lost to him as he tried to figure out what was really going on-

**“You think I have the time or energy to explain to you my plans?”** The scoff in Aegidius’ mind echoed inside of him.  **“Your father is wasting our time. Best to leave now and rest for the next time my powers are needed.”**

Roboute: *Glares at the Emperor*

_ “I… I am so confused.” _

**“Unsurprising.”**

_ “Are… Are you two having an argument?” _

**“No. He cannot hear me at the moment. Now, stand up and leave. I cannot stand being in your father’s presence right now. All he’s going to do is continue to lecture me, when I didn’t even do anything wrong.”**

_ “I… I…” _

Roboute continued to stare. “So be it. I thought you wouldn’t rise to the bait. Most likely isn’t part of your grand plan.”

Aegidius clenched his fists, his ears folding back as he shook in place. Then he took a deep breath and shouted out, “Will you look at me!? Can you just look at me for once and not just see grandfather!?” He took a few breaths, “I did wrong! It was me! I was the one who did all of this, yet you’re sitting here and lecturing grandfather! Do I not exist to you!?”

**“Oh great, now I have to sit through one of your teenaged outbursts…”**

Roboute narrowed his gaze at Aegidius, “What are you not telling me, Aegidius.”

Aegidius breathed hard through his nose, realizing that he just messed everything up again. Why did he have such a need to be seen, to not be seen as the Emperor, but as Aegidius? “I… I could tell you weren’t talking to me. Everyone treats me as if I’m grandfather. No one sees me as me, even you.”

“And why is that,  _ son _ .” Roboute asked, tilting his head slightly. 

Aegidius scowled, “did you not hear me!? Everyone is treating me like I am the Emperor already, like I’m grandfather! No one is listening to me!”

“Oh they are.” Roboute responded. “Everyone is, Aegidius. But I believe there might be more of your grandfather within you then even you yourself might be aware of.”

“I think I know what’s going on with me, more than you do.” He sat back in the seat, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Then explain almost killing Konrad. Killing your uncle.”

“That… That was different. That’s not what this is about-”

“Explain opening a warp tear in the middle of the fortress like some wisened librarian with centuries of experience. Explain to me how you command Custodes through a mental connection.”

“I was mad at everything, it just happened!”

“Explain the Astronomicon Aegidius.” Roboute nodded slowly. “There is something afoot here, you and I both know it. Stop pretending there isn’t.” Roboute sighed. “I am your father for crying out loud Aegidius.” The worry on the Primarch’s face now evident.

“I can’t tell you that.” He shut down, he knew his dad wouldn’t understand. But no- no his dad had experienced so much! He could understand if he just explain- No. No, he couldn’t. “I can tell you- No I can’t. I need to tell you- I can’t-” Then his lips sealed, making him unable to speak. He scratched at them, trying to pry them open as the voice of grandfather was ringing through his mind.

**“No. Do not even think of spoiling my plans to your father. I cannot and will not have thousands of years of planning be ruined by a meddling child having a temper tantrum.”**

He wanted to let out a scream at this, but was forced to sit rock solid on the seat. His hands shakily forced down to grip onto the seat and stop trying to pry his mouth open.

**“There are things far above your understanding at play here boy. For the good of the Imperium you will listen, and you will obey. Am I understood?”**

_ “I… I hate you.” _

**“Good.”**

_ “I’ll tell him nothing is wrong. Just unseal my lips.” _

**“No need.”**

There was a knock on the door, just as Aegidius’ lips unsealed and Roboute’s gaze fell to one of sadness and disappointment. “Enter.” He spoke, as the door opened and he looked back over at his son. “I do not blame you.” He spoke, looking directly into the eyes of his son. As bright and blue as his own. “It is a game that has been played since before you were born. Or even I for that matter.”

Roboute: “Whatever game the future me refers to Father…” *Sighs, losing the rest of his hope*  
Sanguinius: “It’s the same one He has been playing for much longer than any of us will know…”  
Lorgar: “And what is this game?”  
Emperor: “SOMETHING NONE OF YOU WILL EVER UNDERSTAND. NOR I HOPE, EVER WILL HAVE TO.”

The sound of a throat being cleared made Aegidius snap out of his sudden stupor even as both Roboute and Aegidius turned to the door to see Mortarion, Decius on the ground next to him along with Sicarius holding the door.

“Your uncle.” Roboute gestured. “Mortarion.”

Mortarion smiled warmly in turn. “Greetings young one.” He spoke in a warm tone even as he put a hand on Decius. “And this is my son, Decius, more or less of your age and-”

“A half-breed.” Aegidius spoke in astonishment as he hopped off of the chair and began walking over towards the boy with his mouth covered in an ethereal scarf. “Like me.” He smiled, it being genuine.

Decius looked at Aegidius curiously, a sleeved hand coming to his mouth as he chewed on the fabric. “Ah… It’s you again. How are you faring now? It has been such a long time since we spoke last.”

Magnus: “Wow, wait wha-”

“What?” Aegidius glanced to his uncle then back to Decius, “This… is the first time I’ve met you?”

Decius smiled mysteriously, then took Aegidius’ hand with his other sleeved hand. “Yes, you’re right. How silly of me. But at the same time, we have known each other for an eternity. But that is neither here nor there. Or anywhere for that matter...”

Magnus: “I… Aeldari mind maybe?”

He would have been supremely freaked out and demanded more information, but the young Emperor did not. Instead, he felt at peace and relaxed in the presence of Decius. Just holding hands was enough to calm the young Emperor down, somehow completely resetting his mental state to that of a young boy Emperor. “Oh. Okay.” He looked back to his Father, “Can I show Decius around?”

Roboute stared at the two boys for a long minute, then nodded to let them leave.

“Right… Come on Decius, let me show you around. I have no idea how long you’ll be here, but might as well start now.” 

“Before you leave, I have approved your request for the Commissar. He will make an excellent tutor, a fine job at that.” Roboute called after his son, giving him a small smile, even as his mind played at the questions in his mind. Of course that begged the question… What was the Commissar doing there? How did he get there? Was it fate that Aegidius would run into him then and there at the exact moment he decided to run away for once? Something told him that if he looked at the dispatched orders, he would find them sealed with nothing less than the symbol of the Magisterium Lex Ultima.

Aegidius nodded at his dad, “Thanks dad. I think he’ll be great too.” Then he looked back to Decius as he gave his cousin a smile, then asked as they left the study, “You are my cousin right?”

“Cousin and servant. At your service.”

“Please don’t do that.”

Decius shrugged then smiled once more, “then I’m just your cousin.”

“That sounds good.” Then the two boys were gone, one who was mysteriously watching everything around him, and the other who couldn’t remember why he was so distressed before.

Roboute and Mortarion simply looked at each other and closed their eyes as they sighed and Sicarius closed the door, staying outside of the office. 

The final nail was hammered home. All that remained was to bury it. 

“He did not seem to react at all.”

Roboute sighed, “No. No he didn’t.”

“You know what this means don’t you?”

Roboute went quiet, it was difficult to accept, but this and the conversation he had with Aegidius confirmed it all. “At his core, he isn’t even truly Aeldari.” He sighed, sitting back into his seat.

“No, no he isn’t.” Mortarion echoed, wondering how this was going to affect everything.

Roboute then spoke up, accumulating everything he felt and thought of for the moment. His entire feelings on the return of the Emperor, his son being used as a sacrificial lamb to slaughter, to his son not even reacting to the presence of Isha’s consort or even a demigod of his own people. His feelings on the situation that his son was somehow lost, taken and will be used against his will as the vessel for his father. All of his feelings were rolling into the exact feeling he could vocalize as:

“Fuck.”

The vid cut to black.

Practically everyone in the viewing room refused to say or do anything at this point. Many had been trying to just watch a vid, piss off their Father, get kicked out and run as fast and far away from the  _ Bucephalus _ as possible. But all they achieved was antagonize Roboute, make their standing with their Father worse than before, antagonize each other and reveal truths none of them could imagine.

“Father…” Roboute began. “Can we get a break?”

“OF COURSE.” The Emperor responded. “WE CAN END EARLY TODAY AND RECONVENE TOMORROW-”

“No…” Roboute intervened. “I meant… Can we get a longer break? Preferably one away from one another, one that lasts a few months… maybe even years?”

“AND WHY DO YOU WISH THAT ROBOUTE? WE ARE ON THE VERGE OF GREAT DISCOVERY-”

“You’ve been saying that the entire time Father.” Lorgar butted in. “Yet we are not much closer than we were the last chapter. The only thing we well and truly learned is that… is that…”

“You’re a massive asshole.” Mortarion finished for his brother.

“All we have done is sit around for weeks on end, nearly try to kill each other, almost started wars with each other and have found a newfound hatred of being around each other!” Perturabo was the one to speak up, scowling. “I will not forget the time you left the room for ten minutes and we almost descended upon each other like a pack of starving canids!”

“As much as I agree with many of your words.” The Lion added on. “I would say that after such a… sizable revelation, we should endeavour to watch some more. Perhaps we are at a precipice after all?”

“All we have learned,” Fulgrim sighed, “is that Father has been planning something so completely asininely convoluted and has been manipulating us and everyone else in the future for a vague attempt at resurrecting himself.”

“And perhaps that answer is in the next holotape?” Lion spoke. “I suggest this. We watch another. If we see nothing of value in it, we finish these sessions until we can all get our sense back together.”

Rogal then began to chuckle. This made many pause as Rogal continued to chuckle. “Ironic.”

“LION IS CORRECT.” The Emperor praised. “ONE MORE THEN. ONE PERHAPS NOT OF THE MAIN ONES FOR THE SAKE OF ROBOUTE’S SANITY.” There were many grumbles, but the Emperor did not heed them in the slightest. “ONE OF YOUR CHOOSING.”

“Well, seemin’ as the Cat is bein’ so loud, any vid for him?” Leman added his suggestion.

“That might be… inadvisable.” The Lion quickly corrected.

Magnus lifted any eyebrow, immediately intrigued by his normally secretive brother.

“Oh? Why is that? Yer were quick to say no.”

“You might find something… distasteful.” The Lion crossed his legs and intervened his fingers upon his lap, his face blank of emotion.

“More distasteful than that slaughter? I doubt it.” Corvus voiced his displeasure. “It cannot be that bad. Who has the vid?”

“We do not speak Calibanian-” Alpharius began. “-but this carving appears to be rather-” Omegon held up a holovid, its side covered ancient Calibanian script “-angry.”

“Impossible.” Lion’s features actually furrowed at this, “I have checked… I did not see a single vid that was signed by him. None.”

Roboute sighed. “Give it here.” He took the holovid from the twins and began to read out loud. “Ah yes. To my father, Lion’el Johnson, may you die in pain, explative explative, ah, more uses of the word fuck, more descriptive ways of a long and painful end and finishing with, I hope you suffer eternally for what you did to mother and I…” Roboute trailed off, looking at the Lion with wide eyes. “Is this… is this right now?”

Lion stayed silent, then slowly spoke, “perhaps. However, I do not see a reason on why I should extrapolate any further.”

Everyone slowly turned to face their brother.

“I vote for this one.” Mortarion raised his hand.

“I do too.” Magnus agreed without hesitation.

“Aye, same here.”

“Wait!” Horus shouted, calming down the room. “Is anyone expressly  _ against _ us watching this one?”

Lion immediately raised his hand.

“Ah.” Horus clicked his tongue. “No one then.”

Everyone in the room, besides the Emperor and Lion nodded vigorously.

“Wonderful. Magos, if you will and Leman… more ale. I have a feeling we are going to need it.”

They had no idea what type of hell they were about to unleash on themselves.


	17. Extras 7 - In which we see the Lion's marriage and- HOLY FUCKING SHIT THIS WENT BADLY ABORT ABORT ABORT

Lion scowled at the rest of his brothers while Magos Lehm was in the middle of the sacred rites upon the machine. He glared at them, but refused to rise to their jabbing. “I see no reason why all of you see this as the perfect vid to watch. I would have recommended we tune into another main chapter, but alas…” He glanced to Roboute, who looked horrifically frazzled, “...There are some here who cannot handle another.”

“I just watched my son be turned into a weapon of mass destruction. Surely even you can see why I am distressed.” Roboute bit out, running his hands along his face, leaning back into his throne. He didn’t have it in him to watch another main chapter at the moment. It was already hard enough to deal with just the idea of the last vid in his mind, much less another one. He desperately wanted to do anything else other than watch another vid.

Lion shrugged, “we are built for war, and-”

“The vid is not over, my lords.” Magos Lehm spoke up to the shocked Primarchs and Emperor. “There is a short few minutes of footage left over.”

The Emperor snorted, “WELL? WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR? PLAY IT.” He would deal with Lion and Roboute’s little squabble afterwards. He couldn’t well leave a vid unwatched... could he?

**...** **  
** **205.M42 - ???** **  
** **...**

The vid focused more to show the figure of Abaddon the Despoiler sitting upon a throne. The light of the stars visible through the massive and twisted viewport behind him giving an aura of deep darkness, and outlining something else…

He was staring forward to the vid, the sounds of approaching Black Legion Marines, stirring his gaze even as his throne quivered.

They knelt before Abaddon, the front one beginning to speak slowly, softly as to almost be unheard.

“Warmaster.” The Marine bowed his head low, almost touching the armoured deck. “We… we lost him.”

Horus: “What?”  
Magnus: “Who’s he?”

The Marine didn’t dare look up, bringing such unfortunate news to their lord was… far from ideal.

“As it-”  
“Usually is.”

Too bad that Marine couldn’t fathom how far from ideal it was, his end coming far too quickly for Abbadon’s liking as the Marine’s head imploded from a bolt fired by the Talons of Horus. Abbadon growling even as the Marine slumped to the ground, dead.

“What a waste of gene-seed you were Loriel.” He mocked the corpse even as his gaze shifted towards the other three that were kneeling behind their leader, now all at the mercy of the Despoiler himself. “Stand, for fortune smiles upon you this day.”

They stood, still unwilling to look him in the eye or even towards his face. “You three will make it your duty to hunt him down.” He growled, his voice as commanding as ever, even as his throne quivered yet again. “I need not explain to you… _former Sons of Horus_. How… important your task is again, do I?”

“No, Warmaster.” They all echoed.

“Good.” The Talon on his left arm came back to rest on his throne, making it emit a slight whimper as the claws bit. “Destroy him. Utterly. If our progenitor is allowed to roam freely, he could make his way towards undesirable hands.”

Horus: “Okay, I'm alive, and I now have my sons hunting me down to kill me before long. I really, really, REALLY want to know how I’m alive...”  
Magnus: _“Hooow!?”_ _  
_Horus: “Do you really want to question the vids at this point? Because my sanity is truly at its end...”

They gave him their assurances that they would succeed, more worthless vows, more treachery within the ranks...

“The cloning project shall be stopped, immediately.” The marines became confused. What could cause the cloning experiment to stop? The Despoiler enjoyed having new skulls of their progenitor on hand. “I have found a better venture. A much more malleable and…”

He gave a sinister smirk as the vid moved away from him and to the shadows of the back. There, what seemed to bleed into existence there before them all was… a feminine form. “...rewarding project.”

The figure opened its single eye, a bright red that shone with a barely restrained and contained hatred that threatened to ooze from her, the light giving a shine to her battered, torn and tortured form. She snarled and writhed on the ground, what looked to be scratch marks were all over her body, she didn’t speak, only made sounds like groans, broken syllables and one sound that spiked dread and fear into all who would hear it.

*The more psychically inclined brothers physically recoil away from the source of the scream, Magnus was paralyzed in fear*  
*The psychically dull brothers can still feel dread fill their souls at the sound of that thing, but the one most affected of all, even including the psychically gifted, was Horus himself. He could feel the hatred pointed at him from the screen, the sound felt as if it was directed towards him*

“...Our sister will be the much better replacement.”

The three Marines stared, their attention peaked, even as Abbadon stood, the female collapsing with a psychic groan. “Now… begone from my sight.” 

The Marines stood and walked away even as Abbadon summoned the malformed menials that tended to him.

“Clean up this mess.” He ordered. “And send a summons to Sicarus.” He breathed deeply. “I smell treachery in the air… and call upon Erebus.”

The vid suddenly ended even as a leering smile grew upon the Warmaster’s face.

And finally the vid ended, with the entire family slowly turning towards Horus, who only stared at the dark screen in horror. His face was pale, eyes wide with his gaze glued to the image of that... that scarred mass of flesh, anger and hatred. That single eye that stared back at him, that held back who knows what else kind of hatred. He didn't dare breathe, he had no idea if what he saw was real or... it couldn't... He didn't think it would... He finally spoke, a single sentence:

“I… I have a daughter?” Horus spoke in shock and terror as he sat forward in his throne, hands shakily coming to his face, holding it and saying nothing. He tried to think, think back to when he possibly could have made such a mistake… There… There were a lot… A lot of times that could have…

Where was she? Who was her mother? When was she born? Was she born now? Was she going to be born soon? Did he already make that mistake- mistake? No, was she a mistake? He hadn’t even met her and…

He couldn’t do anything but sit there on his throne, shell shocked into silence.

After the last monster of a vid had been watched, something was becoming quite obvious…

The Imperium as they knew it was gone, shattered and reformed into barely a few thousand cohesive worlds under the Imperium Secundus. It’s existence held entirely within the grips of a failing faith in a dead God and fragile alliance.

The Emperor had never gone, manipulating and planning from beyond death for his return, sacrificing everything. All for a miserable second chance at life...

The Primechildren… some were… twisted, broken… scarred beyond any sense of normalcy. Destined to suffer in their very existence. Others were cursed, destined for something much greater, and that much more terrible...

And then there was Him. The one who started it all. The host of the _Emperor Himself_. The future Emperor. The _child_ upon whose shoulders rested the fate of the entirety of not just Mankind, but of all Aeldari and the existence of all sentients…

The fate of the universe rested upon Aegidius Guilliman.

And that fate was slipping. A bare thread being grasped at by ever more desperate hands. 

For, in the dark future of the 42nd Millennium… there was only war.

The weight of this knowledge was heavy upon all in the viewing room. The appearance of the Black Legion having brought a dampener over them all, reminding them of the larger picture and how petty their squabbles really were. It reminded them of not only the future that they were witnessing but the present that still had much more to be done, tasks unfulfilled and decisions waiting to be made.

However, how could one or even many work towards fixing what was shown if they could not even fix themselves?

Horus was near catatonic, he was going over every compliance he had ever done and trying to figure out where and when he possibly would have the chance to… He was still having a hard time coming to terms with being a father.

At this moment,the entrance to the viewing room opened to reveal Angron, who was covered head to toe in gore and sand. He at least had the decency to wipe his greaves before coming in. “The fuck I miss?”

There was Horus who looked as if his life was a lie, Roboute who was close to a nervous breakdown, Magnus was close to tears, Leman wasn’t nearly drunk enough for this, Sanguinius was curled up on his throne, Konrad was hissing at their golden asshole father… Everyone looked worse for wear, and he was the one who just came back from training with Kharn on the _Conquerer_ after his… less than stellar but a lot better than expected bonding session with his son. “Seriously, what the fuck did I miss?”

“Too much.” Corvus whispered, one of his hands rising idly to rub at his tired eyes. “Far… far too much.”

“Like what?” Angron grunted. “You all look like a bunch of gladiators that lost three duels in a row, yet are still alive.” He clacked with his teeth, grinning eerily. “Who’s kid turned out terribly now?”

“At least you’re back to normal.” Lorgar sighed, a small smile playing about his lips. “Well… for starters, Father had never really died, but played the master puppeteer from beyond death.”

Angron grunted, but sat down even as his grin turned into a frown. “Great.” He grumbled.

“Then there is Mortarion, the one who married-”

“Shut it!” Mortarion cursed at Lorgar, who continued unabated.

“- **the Eldar Goddess of fertility, Isha** and had at least one child with her before being re-united happily with the Imperium.”

“Ha!” Angron let out a spat of laughter even as Mortarion fumed with rage. “With all of this pissy shit going on, I would have thought it would have been someone more serious. Like Horus-”

“HORUS.” The voice of the Emperor interrupted the conversation as it echoed across the room. “I DON’T THINK I NEED TO ASK, BUT I’M AFRAID I DO AFTER OUR TALKS.” The Emperor was solely focused on his eldest and favoured son. “WHO WAS THAT. ARE YOU NOT TELLING ME SOMETHING?”

“I can’t remember.” Horus answered with a hollow tone. Truly, he could not remember. There were too many possibilities and too many people and too many outcomes and…

“HORUS. I GAVE ALL OF YOU PERFECT MEMORY, YOU SHOULD BE ABLE TO TELL ME! SO I ASK ONCE MORE, WHO WAS THAT?”

Horus shook his head, standing up and pacing as he tried to think, going through his vast memory but coming up empty. “I can’t remember, Father! Believe me, I am trying but nothing is coming up!” He was telling the truth, why couldn’t his Father just listen to him instead of accusing him!?

“AND I AM TELLING YOU THAT IT IS IMPOSSIBLE FOR YOU TO NOT KNOW OR NOT REMEMBER! HERE YOU ARE GETTING ON MY CASE ON NOT BEING HONEST, YET YOU ARE HIDING THIS FROM ME? I REFUSE TO BELIEVE THAT, SO I DEMAND TO YOU TO TELL-”

“For the last time, father, I can't fucking remember! I've been so busy with helping you with the Great Crusade, Ullanor and now being named Warmaster! I haven't had any time for romance or secret projects or.. or anything!” He threw his hands in the air. “I am not married like Jaghatai or Magnus or Fulgrim or anyone else in this room for that matter! Nor do I have a secret brood of concubines, nor do I have women on every planet that are secretly my lovers, nor do I…” He trailed off.

“YES?” The Emperor asked. “DO GO ON SON. I BELIEVE YOU WERE ABOUT TO TELL ME SOMETHING OF QUITE DECENT IMPORTANCE.”

“No.” Horus shook his head. “It doesn’t matter, I was careful.”

“PROTECTION BREAKS. VASECTOMIES FAIL, ESPECIALLY WITH YOUR HEALING FACTOR.” The Emperor crossed his arms, a disappointed look coming across his face. “YOU HAVE A DAUGHTER IN THESE VIDS, AND SEEING AS YOU ARE KILLED ONLY A FEW YEARS LATER FROM NOW IN THE ORIGINAL TIMELINE THAT THIS IS BASED OFF OF, SHE IS BORN EITHER BEFORE YOU BECAME WARMASTER OR AFTER. SO GO AHEAD, **EXPLAIN**.”

Horus whirled his head around, fury now evident in his tone. “For the last time Father! If it is _after_ I turned to Chaos then I have no idea! How do you think I was supposed to know that? How do you think that…” Horus trailed off and groaned. “No. No… there is no chance.”

“SURE. OLDEST EXCUSE IN THE BOOK.” The Emperor leaned over. “CONFESS, NOW.”

“Fuck off Father.” Horus looked back at the Emperor, looking directly into his eyes and shocking the Master of Mankind into silence. “I. Don’t. Know. Unless you want to confess something as well? Aren’t you hiding-” A weird feeling overtook him, “-something from my brothers as well?”

“NOT FOR YOU TO QUESTION ME, HORUS.” The Emperor spoke in a disappointed tone, backing away and taking a few steps back. “THAT IS NOT FOR YOU TO KNOW. FOR THE SAKE OF YOUR OWN SANITY.”

Horus looked around, about to answer with a doubt, but…

Wait… everyone… _everything_ was frozen in place. Leman’s ale was stopped mid-pour from the jug into his tankard. Angron was stopped with his mouth halfway open and-

“Father… what did you do?” Horus asked, terrified.

“PREVENTED YOU FROM MAKING A MISTAKE.” The Emperor chided. “I STOPPED THE FABRIC OF REALITY FROM CONTINUING JUST THIS ONCE BEFORE YOU SPOKE SOMETHING WHICH COULD NEVER BE TAKEN BACK OR EXPLAINED.”

He could feel the frustration and anger there, it made Horus want to scream and shout at his Father for his misdeeds. But instead, he couldn’t fathom how powerful his Father must be to… to do this! He didn’t think it was possible to stop time or- or- or anything like this! “What… What did you do?”

“SOMETHING BEYOND YOUR COMPREHENSION. IT IS NOT IMPORTANT FOR YOU TO UNDERSTAND NOW, BUT WHAT IS IMPORTANT FOR YOU TO UNDERSTAND IS THIS: THAT IS THE ONE SECRET THAT I SHALL NOT DIVULGE.”

“For what!? It’s fine for you to believe me lying when I’m telling you the truth? It’s fine for you to throw down Magnus and make him leave? It’s fine for you to berate Mortarion? It’s fine for you to do even a fraction of what you do to us all, but we cannot even dare ask or even mention that!? What kind of father are you!?” Fine. If his Father was going to be like this, then why should he continue to play nice with him?

 **“A BETTER ONE THAN YOU. AT LEAST WHEN I DISCOVERED THAT YOU SURVIVED, I CAME AFTER YOU!** ” The Emperor shouted, reality itself shaking at his anger even as the regret became evident in his eyes and he looked away. “HORUS… I DID NOT MEAN THOSE WORDS.”

The hurt was plain to see on his favoured son’s face. Then, it hardened as he looked away from his Father, disgusted. “And I have told you thrice that I can’t remember, I do not know. Evidently I cannot get you to understand the truth. I apologize for thinking you actually cared what I had to say.”

“AND NEITHER I TO YOU MY SON.” The Emperor looked away, as if searching for something distant… something long since gone. “SHE IS… SHE IS BETTER OFF UNKNOWN MY SON.” The Emperor began to whisper, a tone which Horus had never heard before slipping into his father’s tone. “NOTHING CAN HURT HER. NOT ANYMORE… NOT EVEN ME...”

He wanted to say something, to ask, to do anything… But… Horus just wanted space away from his Father right now. Never had he understood his brothers more than right now. “Fine. **Fine**.” Yet never before had he seen or heard true grief in his Father's face and voice. “I will not speak of this in front of them, fine, you win. Just let me go back.”

The world turned to normal, even as Magnus looked to where the Emperor suddenly stood and violently recoiled.

“What the fuck-”

“MAGOS, PUT ON THE NEXT VID. WE ARE DONE HERE.”

“But-but-” Magnus protested, looking wildly between Horus and the Emperor. “But-but you- were there then-”

“Don’t Magnus.” Horus interrupted. “It’s just… easier this way.”

“I don’t care, who are we watching?” Angron broke the mood even as Leman slammed another tankard of ale down his throat.

“The cat.” Leman grinned, “Apparently he fooked up.”

“How badly?” Angron asked, grinning at the idea of someone else getting it.

Lorgar sighed, “Hopefully not that badly, because Father looks like he’s ready to blow his fuse…” He hoped this vid didn’t make the entire family go crazy, please don’t let the entire family go crazy again...

**…** **  
** **991.M30 - Caliban,** _**Aldurakh** _   
**…**

Angron: “Ah, very badly. Fun.”  
Lorgar: “Oh no.”

The vid began to show an expansive view of the Dark Angels’ Fortress Monastery, _Aldurakh_ , as two Dark Angel Space Marines escorted what looked to be a human woman into the massive fortress. She wore a traditional Calibanian dress, her long golden blonde hair down with large curls, dark brown eyes shining with fright and curiosity as she followed the marines.

The footage followed the woman, the group of three stopped at the doors of what looks to be-

"You shall enter into the Primarch's bedchambers for implantation." One spoke curtly, the woman blinking many times before even responding.

"I... I don’t-?"

The second marine cut. "You have been chosen by the best matchmakers and Apothecaries on Caliban and beyond for this task. You have been shown and proven to be a highly compatible partner for our Primarch so that you may carry his son. Rejoice, for you shall give him an heir."

*A few brothers stared at Lion, wondering how the hell they think this is in any way reassuring for the woman.*

Leman: “...Us wolves at least ask!”  
Magnus: “Even if I was gifted them, I never did anything to my wives that they didn't ask for!”  
Fulgrim: “Arranged marriages are a thing, yes, but I didn't hear anything about marriage there. Did you call this woman there so that she may just carry your child and then begone?”  
Lion: “Yes.”  
Lorgar: *Blinks* “Marriage is a sacred event, even without religion! Marriage comes first, then children! Are you mad!?”  
Angron: *Beginning to grip his throne, his mind focusing on the woman then at Lion, not realizing before that they would go back before the Lion’s heir would have even been born*  
Sanguinius: “Lion, what were you thinking!? That poor woman is terrified and your sons are doing nothing to help!”  
Horus: “I... wow. Just... wow.”  
Vulkan: “I am ashamed of you, Lion.”  
Lion: “Frankly I don’t really care about what any of you think of me. You all have chosen to watch this yourselves.”  
Emps: *Staring at the screen with a blank expression*

She went silent, her hands shaking slightly as she gripped them in a tight single hold. "I…” She noticed that the nearest exit was too far away, the marines could easily catch her if she decided to make a break for it. To think she would be chosen for such a reason… It was too much for her to really comprehend at the moment. What type of match maker would just take her from her home and have two Marines “escort” her to the bed chambers of a Primarch and tell her she will carry his son? 

Madness. That is all what this was. Pure Madness and stupidity.

Did- did she even have a choice?

Rogal: “No.”  
Emps: “YES, EVERYONE SHOULD HAVE A CHOICE. WE’RE NOT THE DAMN DARK ELDAR, YOU KNOW.”  
Lion: *Shrugs* “Perhaps-”  
Emps: “NO, NOT PERHAPS, I AM ALREADY AT MY WITS END AND YOU HAVE OFFICIALLY LOST YOUR RIGHT TO SAY ANYTHING ABOUT THIS SUBJECT, LION. I DON’T EVEN WANT TO HEAR YOU SAY ANYTHING UNLESS I DIRECTLY ASK YOU TO, UNDERSTAND?”  
Lion: “Yes, father.”

*Many brothers would have agreed, but most were just still flabbergasted that this is even happening, has happened actually, and that up to a point is where it was heading. So far, many are not amused at the situation.*

Her parents **have** been meaning to marry her off to some noble, no doubt to gain more notoriety in their social circles. Ever since her elder brother’s death, it was down to her to carry the family on her shoulders. But… When her parents had been approached and told that she had been… chosen… By the Primarch no less, her parents practically gushed from the excitement. Her mother had gone on for hours, telling her how honoured she must be to be chosen by the Primarch, to be chosen to marry and carry his children…

Her father had been making plans already, telling her that as her duty as the only child of their family, she must carry herself with as much dignity as possible. He saw her uncertainty, slapped some sense into her and told her that this is for the best. That this was the absolute best she could ever hope to do and achieve, that she would bring such honour and nobility to their line for ages to come…

But did anyone ask her what she wanted?

Rogal: “Yes.”  
Perturabo: “Who?”  
Rogal: “Herself.”  
Perturabo: *Bitch Smacks*

She didn’t know who the Primarch was, she only knew he was the hero who had slain all of the beasts of the forests, he was the Primarch of the Dark Angels, he was the de facto leader of Caliban, one of the sons of the Emperor of Mankind of the the Imperium of Man… But who was he? For all she knew, he could be some sociopathic monster who used people as tools and had little to no empathy for those not on his level.

*The family look at Lion, including the Emperor, who can’t help but notice how correct the statement was*

Guilliman: *Cough* “Asshole.” *Cough*

She had only been told of this arrangement two days prior, already all of the high standing social circles were abuzz with the news, that the only daughter of the near dead line of Greils was chosen by the Primarch of Caliban. All of the people she knew and grew up with who scorned her for being the only daughter of a long line, fated to marry and lose her name and lose everything her family had made… All of the scathing remarks from her peers who used to tease her, now they all cooed at her, simpered and smiled to their new better. But was it better? Was it?

All she was doing was being taken away from her home to be taken by a man she knew nothing of, to do who knew what, by his will and expected to do it with a smile. They all keep speaking as if it is a certainty, an absolute. It was, but it doesn’t mean she has to like it!

Unlike all the other daughters of the nobles she grew up with, she was taught to be fierce. To stand up for herself! To let her future husband know that the name of her family would not just be snuffed out quietly, but rather looked at proudly upon the family tree of whichever family would have the _honour_ of having _her_ as their bride.

Lion: “The size of her Dowry should say otherwise.”  
Roboute: “You are being such an absolute asshole it isn’t even funny at this point!”  
Lorgar: *Just feeling and unwavering moment of sadness at this*

However… the _second_ the offer had come through, her parents were happy to take on the name of Jonson and leave Greil behind, despite them both always being disappointed and angry at the idea before. The hypocrisy was bitter to taste, all those years of praising and taught to remember the name of Greil, gone in an instant.

And the ladies of the court, her mother included, simpered at the fact. She was surprised the hypocrisy oozing from their pores wasn’t making their skin peel, or their teeth rot from the sweet lies they spoke. Oh, Selena, you are just so lucky and blessed! Oh Selena, how envious I am of you! Her peers were already calling her the bride of the Lion, already saying with certainty that she is...

It made her sick. How easily the noble’s tongues wagged and the heads turned when even a whiff of the Primarch was detected. How easily they would throw their history into the flames of the hearth if it meant they could illuminate and warm the Primarchs for but an instant.

But still… It was a simple task. Simply carry the child, do as she was told and then… Everything just had to go back to normal. All he wanted is to have a son? Fine. She would give him a son and be done with it… She just hoped the first try worked and she gave him a son on the first try. Maybe then she could live in relative peace and quiet somewhere in the background of the court, as deeply in the shadows and as far away from _him_ as she could possibly get.

“I understand… But, why wasn’t I given more time to think about it, or even to accept?"

Lion: “The dowry was already paid.”  
Perturabo: “I’m going to smack you next.”  
Angron: “LET ME DO IT-”  
Emps: “NO!”  
Konrad: *Whispering* “Well, you changed your tune really quickly.”

“It's not your job to question, it is merely your duty, to obey." The one on the right spoke, motioning her to enter the room. "Please, be quick about it.”

Oh, how she wished she could scream at them. She was not some dog to be ordered around, she was a noble! She was tempted at this very moment to order them to step aside and leave her be. One got over transhuman dread rather quickly when the hostile court of Caliban was their norm, especially with how infested it was with Dark Angels. She thought better of it, for better or for worse, this was now her family’s name in her hands. She couldn’t bear to dishonour that, even if everyone else had.

Angron: *Growls*  
Lorgar: *Notices this and pats his arm, hoping to calm him down*

She entered the bedchamber, jumping slightly when the heavy doors were closed. It was cold, she felt so cold even with a large roaring fire in the fireplace, she felt so... cold... so cold...

She glanced around the room, noting how... massive it was. The bedchamber was covered with suits of armor and weapons of all sizes, intimidating even the smaller people to even dare step into this holy bedchamber. She was unable to say or do anything else once she saw him. He had been sitting in front of the fire, sitting straight backed on the couch, eyes never leaving the fire. She noticed he wore a loose robe, one that could easily... eas... oh… right, yes, of course.

“You finally have noticed me here. And here I thought the matchmakers called you observant.”

Ferrus: “Really.”  
Fulgrim: “Insulting her at the first meeting?”  
Lion: “It was tru-”  
Emps: *Glares*  
Lion: *Scowls*  
Vulkan: “Oh, what do you expect? She is a regular human, some leeway must be a given.”  
Lion: *Shrugs*  
Sanguinius: *Sighs* “Courtship is apparently dead on Caliban.”

She narrowed her gaze at him, unhappy that he had already insulted her. Just because the matchmakers told her that she was compatible with him, didn’t mean she needed to stand here as he insulted her and take it on the chin! She was about to retort against him, when he stood from the couch, his full height towering above her, making her come back to the realization that he was a Primarch and she, just a regular old baseline.

She couldn’t talk back to him, even if she wanted so badly to... 

She rose herself to her full height, something she hated to do with how tall she was compared to her peers, but now? She felt as if she was but prey before the hunter, his eyes doing nothing to ease her, the shadows cast from the fire hiding whatever it was he was thinking. His face dark and impassive, the shadows themselves concealing all.

She gulped and attempted to look anywhere else but forward. Forward was… was… She was practically eye level with his lower abdomen and his-

Fulgrim: *Blushing* “If it shows that can we skip it?”  
Emps: “YES. NO QUESTIONS ABOUT THAT.”

No. No. Ney. Goodness, gracious, by all the unholy creatures in the forests of Caliban- None of this. She chided herself for even daring to think such thoughts. They weren’t even married yet! As of this moment, they are- she was- She was still an unmarried lady! An unescorted young lady present in the bedchamber of a young bachelor who at this very moment was very much undressed directly in front of her!

Her mother would have a heart attack if she knew what was going on at this very moment...

“Are you even capable of looking at me?” He asked her, no... No, that wasn’t him asking, it sounded far more as if it was an annoyed demand.

A demand? From him? At this stage, they were _very_ much still in the phase of courtship! How dare he act as if she was some wench to be sent away?

“Yes, I am.” Some anger evident in her tone. “With how curt your marines are, how you are dressed and the _gall_ you have had so far, to simply treat me as if I am some commoner that so happened to have stumbled into your chamber.” She stopped, seeing a touch of annoyance flare through him before clearing her throat. “...but **that** is of **no present** consequence.”

“You’re right. It isn’t.” His words cut, cut hard and deep, no matter how small they were. It made her realize that either he simply didn’t care and that he didn’t have to… and she was in no place to make demands...

“Do I have the chance to ask questions, first?” She asked, hoping to delay the inevitable and hopefully at least barter a better position for herself. The locked doors, the robe, the bed in eyesight, being practically cornered… it made her corset feel tighter then it should have been.

“Fine. Ask.”

A quick gulp of air, a few side steps to the far wall, towards the windows she spoke again, “All that the escorts told me was…” She glanced at the window, to see if it could be opened, how far was the drop, a pointless riddle being solved in her mind, in an absurd attempt to calm herself. “That I had been chosen by matchmakers, to carry your son. What else am I being asked of? My station and my new title. What would be expected of me? What am _I_ to gain from agreeing to this?” She managed to blurt it out before she could stop herself, the nerves in her spiking heavily as the anxiety rose to match them. If her own parents were not going to fight for the family name, that left only her, and she would be damned before she would allow them to be used and discarded.

He watched her, never once turning his back to her. He saw how she attempted to walk around the room as she spoke to find possible escape routes and perhaps even turn the situation in her favour. Yes, they did say she was resourceful, cunning at times… What else would she do if he let her continue? “Yes. I am in need of a son. Cloning is risky and tends to fail spectacularly. Vat growth is out of reach and the knowledge is out of my grasp as well.” He threw the breadcrumbs onto the floor, setting the trap. Now all she needed to do was follow them.

She didn’t stop walking to show her surprise, instead continuing to explore the room. Keeping herself calm and her eyes on the prize. “Then it appears marriage is the only way for you to gain what you seek.” She kept up the charade of a cunning lady, one ruthless enough not to care about the price, just as long as she got to the goal. “Am I to expect that I will be at your beck and call until so?” Her hand brushed along one of the weapons on the wall as she approached, trying to feel how heavy it was, if it could be used, doing so only to bide for precious time. “...you stand to gain everything you seek from this venture, if I were to agree of course...”

Rogal: “An average melee weapon meant for an Astartes weighs about 673lbs. She would be crushed.”  
Lion: “It was impressive that she did actually try to find escape routes and even maybe a weapon-”  
Sanguinius: “Is that you praising her?”  
Lion: “No. Merely stating her characteristics.”  
Alpharius and Omegon: “We are interested by her brother-”  
Alpharius and Omegon: “-dick.”  
Lion: *Glares at the twins not knowing which one the insult came from*

They did say that she could think on her feet, obviously the matchmakers were correct. A fine specimen for the intended use, should the genes be passed on.

“Hardly. I need a son, marriage is not part of the requirement to achieve that. You will be summoned to my chambers at opportune times so that the process will go along smoothly. I do not see why marriage is required if that is all I require from you.” He spoke bluntly, going for the shock factor and intentionally not even making an offer for what she stood to gain. A test to see just how much she was willing to stand. She had proven to already be more ambitious and cunning then most baselines he had met.

Lorgar: “NOT REQUIRED?!”  
Guilliman: “Brother. You need to honour the lady which would carry your son. Without marriage he or she would be seen as a bastard, which is a title that may cause issues for them later on in life, perhaps even cause trouble for you.”

Shock and anger registered to her first, then she cooled down, turning it to encouragement that she could still achieve some type of advantage. “Marriage is required, my lord. Any child that we happen to have from such an arrangement would be seen as a bastard, something we should both want to avoid. As we both know, politics plays a heavy hand in our lives, a bastard would surely drag our family names through the dirt. And with your much higher standing, I would wager that it would impact you much harder than it would me.”

“I do not believe so. Marriage and the futile games of politics is not something I am interested in, only the son.” As if throwing her own hand of cards out of the window, shattering her argument, stalking closer to her, hoping to end their little game. It had been fun while it lasted, but enough was enough. The results would speak for themselves.

*No one noticed that while this was going on, Angron’s throne and Angron himself had been bolted down to the ground because he was shaking so hard he matched the resonant frequency of the Bucephalus and began to shake the entire ship*

Lorgar: “No no no no no… don’t try it.” *Trying to calm him down, glancing at Lion*

She backed up, following along the wall, noting he could have moved faster and reached her in but the blink of an eye if he so wished. 

He was purposefully taking his time…. He was _toying_ with her! The very idea made her temper flare, how dare he not take her seriously!? “If this isn’t a marriage, then I would be free to leave at any time. I am not bound to you, nor am I meant to be bent to your will. And neither do I share your name nor any official position, thus, nothing keeps me at court nor at your beck and call.” She stated, eventually completing her circle and positioning her back at the doors, leaving him standing in the middle of the room, near the bed. 

He stared at her in turn, a predatory look upon his face with something else in those eyes of his… But it was fine, she could simply turn and leave. Leave and never look back, he did not intend to marry her thus-

Konrad: *Increases the flow of calming drugs in his armours systems as he is wracked by a vision of what’s to come*

“Is that wise?” He answered her, locking his eyes with hers and looking deep, daring her to open the door and leave. There was something else there, as if he was challenging her. Challenging to do what? “Think about it, oh lady of House Greil. What kind of position are you in? An unescorted young woman in the bedchambers of a bachelor who has been in a state of undress the entire time? There are witnesses of you entering here of your own free will, and as we both know…” He paused for effect, making her shiver in anger, “I have a much higher standing than you will ever have. My word against yours. And who will they believe?”

He trapped her at the first move. Before their meeting had even begun, before their negotiations, before all of this, he already had the trap ready and waiting. And she had walked right through and didn’t even realize that it had sprung until now.

Her composure was falling, she was angry, livid even! He knew… He knew that as soon as she stepped into this room, she would have lost any and all leverage she could have built. He played the political game so well, that even her making time for herself would appear to his advantage as it would seem to all others as if they had time to do the deed!

But… she could still leave...

No, she couldn’t. Her family would accuse her of walking out on the best offer she would ever ever receive in her life. Her parents would hold that over her head for so long, no other man would ever reach the prestige the Primarch holds, so even if she were to get married to another she would never be free from the disappointment of her choice. Her future possible children would be seen as failures. She would be seen as the embarrassment of House Greil, little more than a pig wallowing in self pity as her family name would wither and be ground into the dirt...

Sanguinius: “Please dear no… Lion does not deserve you.”  
Fulgrim: “She is a beauty! I am sure she would have no problems ensnaring other beautiful men.”  
Roboute: “It goes beyond beauty… its politics. If she weren’t to agree it would-”  
Lion: “Too late.”  
Angron: *Glares at him again*

That was the challenge. If she turned around and left, she would destroy her life from then on, all so she wouldn’t be in this deal. He was challenging her to make a difficult decision that benefited him and only him. But did it only benefit him? She would be the bride- no. No she would just be his mistress. That would be even worse than walking out. Only good enough to serve him physically, not enough to marry… By the Emperor, the whole ordeal was _sickening_. He wanted her to challenge him!

Turn away, be shamed. Give in, be shamed. It was a lose-lose situation.

“Surely I must get something out of this situation.” She answered, standing her ground to him. Terrified to stand up, years and years of tutoring telling her to be submissive and to simply… No. No, she needed to say something. Not accept such a horrible choice. Negotiate, negotiate, and when the cards aren’t in your favour… flip the table.

He didn’t smile, nor smirk or show any emotion openly whatsoever. But she did see just the smallest upturn of a corner of his, was he amused with her!? She restrained herself and did not rise to the bait.

“What would you want?” He finally queried.

“My standing is in jeopardy, which you seem all too aware of. Without a marriage, I will be seen as a woman who was used and discarded. It will not only affect me, but it will affect your child as well. He would be considered a bastard not just among us humans, but also within your ranks. You do not want that, do you?” She bartered, daring to look into his eyes even though she felt as if she would burst into flames at any second.

Guilliman: “There! See?”  
Lion: *Grunts and shrugs his shoulders*

“Fair. Marriage in name, no ceremony, no fanfare. What else.”

“Peace and quiet once this is over.” She nearly blurted out, knowing that that was all she was going to get. Ceremony be damned… the name would help enough… it would have to...

He nodded, coming closer to her, looming over her. He knew they said she was smart, this was good. Perhaps this task wouldn’t be so bothersome after all. “Agreed. Now disrobe.”

Negotiations were over, nothing left to discuss nor for her to do. 

She sighed, knowing her fate was sealed and they might as well get on with it, since she was compromised already, she thought as she began to slip her dress lower…

Emps: “SKIP MAGOS!”

The vid cut off, showing her lying in a new bed, curled up alone in a new room alone.

“Yes, of course… Of course I wouldn’t be sharing a room or bed with him. It only makes sense.” She said to herself, hugging one of the plush pillows to herself as she breathed in the clean scent.

But she felt far from clean herself.

Lion: *Just barely twitches*  
Emps: “WHY. WHY DID YOU THINK THIS WAS THE RIGHT THING TO DO!?”  
Lorgar: “This makes me feel all kinds of dirty.”  
Angron: *Glaring at Lion*  
Roboute: “Hold for a moment. You’re not even going to have her in the same room as you? Why?”  
Lion: “That wasn’t in the agreement. Marriage in name only, nothing about us having to share a bed nor a room. Can’t stand the thought to be honest.”  
Everyone: *Full on judgemental glares*  
Lion: *ignores them all*

Marriage only in name… What type of consequences would come of this? What type of power did she lack in this relationship? What amount of power did she even have? Was she going to be just like her mother? Only good for looking pretty and sewing circles to pass time? Only asked to share a room with her husband for…

She shuddered, wondering if it was supposed to be awkward and strange. Was it supposed to be uncomfortable? Was it supposed to be something to wait out?

It couldn’t, could it?

But it did not matter. In the end of it all, she was just a woman in their society, less say in a room than a farm hand. She was chosen to be married to him, even if just in name. Once you were chosen and had acquired the approval of the parents, there was nothing she could do. It was simply how their society worked for thousands of years.

All she could do was make the best of it, wait it out and be done with it all in time.

**...**

The vid skipped again. It had been a few weeks since she had unofficially moved into _Aldurahk_. Her clothes, things and such had been delivered without much fanfare nor even a dismissal from her parents, almost as if she could so easily be picked up from her home and deposited elsewhere with little regard.

She hated it. Her own parents weren’t allowed to visit her, no friends, not even allowed to leave the massive floor her chambers happened to be on. She actually began to miss those dull sewing circles and the inane talking, at least it was something to do. She would give anything to just listen to a noble chatter about anything that passed their mind than sit in her chambers with no one to speak to.

Much like a Space Marine, her existence was spartan. The only times that had anything to do was meal time and the inevitable calling to her husband’s chambers for another “implantation”. She shuddered at how clinical it sounded. At just how robotic everything was. Even her marriage was… meaningless in so many ways. One day a Space Marine appeared in her chambers with a piece of parchment that she signed and all of a sudden she was Lady Jonson. Head of the most Noble and Illustrious ruling House upon all of Caliban… what a joke.

No ladies in waiting. No duties in court. Nor even a position in court for that matter. Nor even a household for her to manage. A damned joke. She felt as if she was little more than a mistress who laid about and awaited the bell to ring for another round in the sack and satisfy himself.

Oh! And satisfy himself he did! Only him, his needs came first, lie there for a minute or so and allow him to finish. She knew little in regard to the sexual arts, but even she knew that it was supposed to last more than the time it took to boil water for a cup of tea! No touching her husband, not to make any strange sounds or noises, not to get your fluids anywhere but expressly the sheets, it was all a joke! A play in which she was playing the part of the fool!

The Family: *Slowly look over at the Lion*  
Lion: *Sighs* “What now?”  
Jaghatai: *Coughs* “Two pump chump.” *Cough*  
Roboute: *Blinks a few times* “And I am blamed for not being a ‘ladies man’.”

Her door opened all of a sudden. Ah, it was time, fantastic.

She got up and followed the Marine, feeling every bit like a canid taken for it’s daily walk.

**...  
** _A week later  
...  
_

The vid opened, on screen they did get to witness Lion leaving his wife in bed, alone, as he told her had matters more important to take care of. Selena not even having a chance to say or do anything before he promptly walked out onto his balcony and just stood there staring at the forest.

Fulgrim: *Just mimes at the screen, unable to speak except just make exasperated sounds of displeasure*  
Lorgar: *Desperately trying not to choke Lion over all the things he holds sacred over the consummation of marriage*  
Leman: “At least offer her a hot bath you nob!”  
Konrad: *Imaging all the ways he could punish Lion for this, not even grinning, just becoming more and more grim with every passing second*  
Emps: “...HOW IN THE SHIT DID YOU THINK THIS WAS ACCEPTABLE TO DO?”  
Lion: *Stares impassively at all of his siblings* “Her feelings have no ties to the chance of a child being conceived. Rest assured I have studied the topic extensively.”  
Rogal: *Facepalms* ...Skipping all of the chapters labeled “optional” does not mean you have studied enough. You are therefore inadequate in this field of study.  
Perturabo: “I think that I am going to have to move my throne next to yours if this continues brother. You have somehow made Rogal’s arguments sound _sane_ when compared to yours.”  
Emps: “I KNOW YOU HAD DIFFICULTY EMPATHIZING WITH OTHERS, BUT NOW I FINALLY REALIZE HOW BAD IT TRULY IS. I DID NOT WANT TO DEAL WITH THIS TOO AFTER EVERYTHING ELSE, LION.”

And when it was all over, when he was already leaving their marriage bed and telling her to leave, did she understand how lifeless and cold this marriage truly was going to be. The first night was bad enough, but the second, the third, and now the fourth time? She knew it would only get worse.

“You know, you could strike up a conversation with me after we’re done fucking. You’ve already seen me bare, might as well see my personality as it truly is.” Her words cut through the room like a knife through softened butter.

“Pardon?” He sharply glanced at her, “Are you speaking to me?”

“Who else would I speak to in this room? Your rug?” She rolled her eyes, the rug in his room the pelt of a massive monster he personally hunted years ago that certainly was not staring at her. “Oh no, wait, you killed and stuffed it, just as you are doing at this very moment to this marriage.”

“I fail to see how.” He put on his robe and left her on his bed, hoping to get back to work soon.

“And that is the issue.” She kept herself from screaming, but did slap her hands on the mattress and sheets. “How am I supposed to be mentally healthy enough to bear a child if I can’t even talk to my own husband!?”

He paused, though he said not a word, he did stop and was listening to her.

Selena waited and quickly ran through her words and his actions before she realized it. He truly knew nothing about child bearing or family planning, did he? She nearly laughed at the notion, a Primarch who was trying to get a son had no idea on the inner workings nor the mental side of the very process he was trying to work!

Continuing, she spoke once more, “Enough mental stress can and has made women unable to carry. If you continue to treat me like a canid being taken for a walk every so often, your venture for a son will be dead in the water before you can even hope to finish another load.” She sighed, laying back in the bed and not even bothering to get up. She was angry, frustrated beyond belief and uncomfortable, just like always after another “wonderful” romp with her husband.

A long amount of time passed before she heard just the smallest of sighs came from him. “How much trouble can it really be just to get a single son from you.”

She sputtered. “You talk as if we are not trying to make a sentient human being!” She couldn’t stop herself from raising her voice. “You speak as if we are two horses who have been brought together for a simple cover!”

“What would you possibly have me do, exactly? You asked for exactly this, you signed the contract. Why go back on those terms now?”

“Treat me as if I am your wife! That was a part of the contract, I am not going back on anything!”

“And where in the contract does it say I have to do so?”

“In the word marriage!” She screamed now, her temper finally getting the better boiling over. “It is the very essence and meaning of having a significant other that they are there to comfort and help each other. You can’t just… just throw two people in a room and tell them to breed until a child comes about! Sure, it might merit some results, but the very basis for that poor child’s entire childhood will be ruined from the start!”

“I was born from a gestation pod, can you really lecture me on what I should and should not know about the functions between a man and woman?” He sat upon his favoured chair, far from her with his back towards her, especially since she was keeping him from getting any work done to instead… talk to him.

“Yes! Because you are not a baseline! You do not even know how to properly have sex or even pleasure a woman!” 

“Pleasure is not a necessary part of sex.”

“Wh-what!?” She shouted in shock, sitting up from the bed and wrapping a sheet around herself. “Not a necessary-” She sputtered. “It’s the very reason most of the knights in your order used to indulge in it as much as they did before they were replaced by Marines! All of whom are as obstinate and have the sexual drive of a tree stump!”

He so detested sarcasm. “I do not see that as a negative.”

“Do… do you even feel anything when we…” She trailed off, realizing that the topic was getting heated and rather unpleasant and she was losing the drive that made her speak about it as starkly as she did before.

“Do I feel sexual satisfaction?” He finished for her. “Yes. In a small amount. Just enough to get it over and done with, I suppose. Barely a second thought if I were to be brutally honest.”

She stared at his back, desperately attempting to read the body language of this stranger that was her husband.

“You… you don’t do you.” She grasped at what very little she had as a basis for the talk they were having. “Not even for a second. It’s just simply another task for you.”

He raised a single brow, turning his gaze away from her with that same coldness that she felt from their first meeting. “Is it not just another task?”

She stared, holding the covers that covered her naked form across her chest as she only blinked a few times. “Do you… feel anything? Do you allow yourself to feel anything?”

“No. Why would I?” He retorted, his head tilting to show false interest.

“But…” She attempted to reason in her mind. “That would make you inhuman…” She trailed off slowly as she realized what she had just said.

His head straightened as he looked back at her, simply staring as they both lapsed into silence for a minute straight before he finally turned around and took up a pen before beginning to sign off a few plastek flimsies. “Seeing as you have no more questions. Our talk is done. You may go.”

**...**

Another day had begun to show on screen, a few more weeks must have passed between the two, since the first part had the look of spring in the air, while this time had the air of autumn in full swing. Selena was just returning into Lion’s chambers when she found him pacing in the room, deep in thought.

“Are you well?” She began to speak.

“Do I look well? No, I am not. Stop wasting my time with inane questions.”

And just like that, she knew it was going to be one of **those** days with her husband. He was in one of those moods where he felt as if he could just snap at others, and here she was having to deal with his childishness.

Lion: “I am not a child, woman! How dare you-”  
Rogal: “She meant in mind brother.”  
Perturabo: *Looks at rogal in shock only for Rogal to look back* “I know I should hit you for this because you were only saying the obvious... however…” *Raises hand*  
Rogal: *Gives a slight grin before high fiving*  
Perturabo: *Is strangely okay with this*  
Lion: *Glares and only grips tightly on the armrests*

“If I’m wasting your time, then why don’t I just leave? Obviously, you are in no mood to entertain a woman for the night.” She added hotly, crossing her arms and leaning against the doors, ready for him to just say the word.

It took quite a while, and a mass amount of research on her husband by reading through whatever rare book she could find which even mentioned anything human he had ever done. But she was beginning to understand the massive, jarring puzzle which was the Lion.

He turned around, glaring at her defiance. “You have a job to do, that is why you are here. Get on the bed.”

Konrad: *Throws a poisoned dagger at Lion but it is just barely caught by Lorgar who suspiciously hides it in his own armor instead of throwing it away before giving a look toward Konrad which is in all kinds of ways saying ‘soon’*  
Emps: *Choosing to not comment on the attempted assassination at the moment* BOYS! WE WILL GET TO THAT DISCUSSION SOON ENOUGH. BUT RIGHT NOW- SKIP-

Before the vid could start to skip, she did speak up again. “No.”

“No?” He took a few steps towards her, trapping her against the door so she could only look up at him from her cornered position. “You are my wife. You have your job that you agreed to. Now you want to back out?”

“Not back out, merely taking a step back to evaluate. You are in no position to be trusted with my body at this moment, Lion!”

“It’s either husband or my lord. Not my name.”

Guilliman: *Cough* Asshole *Cough* “...Apologies, it seems I have something in my throat.”  
Mortarion: “It might just spread to all of us.”

“I will call you whatever I damn well please, especially after you’ve fucked me raw almost ever night for weeks!”

Fulgrim and Sanguinius: *Blushing heavily at this statement*  
Sanguinius: “Why… why does she have to be so frank about it again?”  
Leman: “I’m likin it’ it’s the only bit of honesty this damned vid has had so far.”  
Corvus: “Do you think Lion is going to stand there and listen to a lot of flowery words?”  
Sanguinius: “I uh… look I simply want to avoid the matter of… copulation within this family.”  
Emperor: “THAT IS FAIR.”

He blinked in surprise at her words. “So how about you act like a man and just sit down and calm yourself before I start thinking I have been saddled with an errant wife instead of a husband! Or must I speak to you like a nanny dressing down a foolish boy caught playing in the dirt?”

Leman and Mortarion: *Choke on the ale that they are wolfing down before a certain wolflike primarch starts to chuckle at it*  
Leman: “...she’s a wolfin’ firecracker!”

Before their eyes, Lion on screen began to color a deep red as he stared at the woman wide eyed, surprised she had the gall to even say that to his face.

Alpharius and Omegon: *Take a secret snapshot of Lions red face for certain blackmailing funny uses*

He immediately began to think of every insult he would and could throw at her, but there was also a sense of… pride in this moment. No one has ever had the courage to insult him like this before in his life! Everyone treated him with the respect he earned throughout it all with his accomplishments, he was a Primarch! And this baseline woman just screamed up at him in a most… He… He was immediately _amused_ at this.

Emps: SKIP! SKIP! SKIP! SKIP! SKIP!  
Magos: 01110100 01101000 01100101 00100000 01110011 01101011 01101001 01110000 00100000 01101001 01110011 00100000 01101010 01100001 01101101 01101101 01100101 01100100 00100001  
Lion: *Severely red* “No! No, no! None of that! I do not- that is not-!”  
Leman: “Everyone has their fetishes~”  
Lion: “SHUT UP I DO NOT HAVE FETISHES THIS IS BLATANTLY WRONG I-”  
Alpharius and Omegon: “We will prepare the whips and bondage gear.”  
Lion: “SHUT UP ALL OF YOU!”  
Emps: “FOR THE LOVE OF ME PLEASE SKIP!”

Lion lowered himself towards her, almost within her own personal space. Nearly baring his teeth at her, but his eyes were telling an entirely different story that she had never before seen. “Are you honestly defying me?” Unconsciously using his own presence against her, a presence that would have most others running and screaming away from him.

But she stood there, daring to look straight into his eyes in the most defiance he had ever seen in anyone in his life. “Yes. I. Am. Do you have a problem with it!?”

She could hear him growl at her, like an animal. “What do you think?” He asked, his voice at least two octaves lower even as against her will, Selena’s heart skipped a beat.

**...**

Sanguinius: *Suddenly looks as if he is mentally scarred for life*  
Fulgrim: *Worryingly notices this* “What is the matter, brother?”  
Sanguinius: *Blushing redder than the color of blood* “My psychic powers kicked in and I had a vision… of a few seconds into the future of the vid…” *Looks over at Lion* “You are a savage.”  
Lion: *Blushing furiously*  
Emps: “WHAT IS WRONG? DID HE HURT HER?”  
Sanguinus: “No I uh… I just wonder how she is ever going to be able to fix that beautiful dress of hers after it was so violently ripped off of-”  
Emps: “ANYWAY! MOVING ON!”  
Mortarion: “I am so uncomfortable right now. Knowing my brothers… This knowledge should never be known.”  
Magnus: “AGREED.”  
Konrad: “You telling me? The drugs in my armour are about to run out.”

When the picture appeared again, it was once more the Lion’s bedchambers. There was snow frosting the windows and the woman was dressed in furs as she entered the room again.

This time, Lion had been sitting on the lounge near the fire, data slate in hand as he focused on something there. She sighed as she approached him, hoping to not be stuck against the door and have to deal with him cornering her again.

“News from the Great Crusade?” She asked, approaching him cautiously. She wasn’t sure how he would act today. She has been getting her monthly regularly, despite the almost nightly… consummation. Would he be angry? No, of course he would. She just had to wait before he would say something cutting-

“None of your concern. I still have heard nothing about any success. Are you sure you’re fertile?”

Rogal: “I believe you have something called ‘slow swimmers’ brother.”  
Leman: *Chokes on his ale again*  
Perturabo: *Actually lets out a bark of laughter*  
Lion: *Blushes yet again* “I do not. Compared to Leman, I am in fine shape.”  
Leman: “OI!”

And she was right. Rolling her eyes, she answered back with a snap, “Well, seeing as how loving and passionate our marriage is, I can’t help but see why.”

She didn’t even have to look at him to know his reaction. “Love and passion is not needed in marriage.”

“Well with how rosy tinted literature and talks are of marriage, I can see your point. I can already tell this is going to be another night of you holding me down and-”

“If you’re going to be lewd, woman, please don’t do it near my chair. I quite like this one and wouldn’t want you to stain it.”

She growled as she glared at the giant of a man, “Stain!? I’ll have you know I would do no such thing you damned brute! Excuse me for predicting another night of loveless and passionless fucking with you.”

“Keep your words clean, I am not interested in having this conversation with you. Again.”

The entire damn family and even the Magos: “Like he doesn't already do that.”

“Oh? What would be different? Are you going to tie me up and just keep me here at all times as your personal-”

Emps: “SKIP!”  
Holoprojector: 01000110 01110101 01100011 01101011 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101 00100001  
Ferrus: *Not knowing it came from the projector and not the Magos* “Calm down already!”  
Magos: *Confused canting in binary*  
Konrad: “The end is near. The holoprojector is cursing now.”

“If you are not going to control your hormones, go to bed and await me there. I have work to do and you are distracting.” He said impassively, flicking through the reports on his slate. “For Father’s sake, woman, it’s like you try to rile me up on purpose.”

“You are just- just-!” She took many steps back and threw her hands into the air, “impossible! Can you go one day without insulting me!?”

“Can you actually act like a lady of Caliban? Or will you continue to act like a maiden raised in the slums?”

“Like you are any better! I can tell you were raised in the forest with how rude, entitled and pig headed you are! I actually know why you had your sons go off and pick me up on the first meeting, if I met with you before agreeing to anything and I had the choice, I would have told you to go and fuck yourself with your damned Lion sword you absolute literal monster of a man!” She then saw him drop the slate and glare straight at her. She had a feeling where this was going. “Maybe if you actually tried other people’s way for once you wouldn’t be such an uptight and backwards asshole, thought so by even your brothers!”

The assholiest of Primarchs: *Strangely agreeing with this*

“Where. Did. You. Get. That. Information.” Lion spoke slowly, as if ready to pounce on his prey and tear their jugular out in a second.

She stood imperiously before him, arms crossed over her chest. “Remembrancers talk, dear husband. They also write books. Lots of them in fact. Many do so love to point out your abysmal relationship between you and your brothers.” Oh, she hated how this man made her into such a vindictive person. Hated how it made her resort to trading verbal shivs and digging through libraries, dozens of books at a time, just to find a few short lines.

Fulgrim: “...hah.”

But then again… it’s not as if she was lacking time.

The two only began to glare at each other silently for an unknown amount of time, both daring the other to say or do something, both unwilling to back down.

“Fine.”

She blinked many times, taken aback by his simple statement. “What?”

“Fine. Let us try it your way. Since you are so passionate about this, then convince me. Convince me that my way is wrong.” He challenged her, not breaking eye contact.

She paused, gripping the front of her dress anxiously. She added on, “Fine. But know this, if I can convince you that treating me better and treating…” She waved her hands between the two of them, “this… better… Then you will go along with my revisions to treat all of this better. Agreed?”

He snorted, knowing he would win this game of theirs. “Agreed, only if you concede that you will be silent forevermore in my presence if you don’t.” He threw back, hoping she would take this challenge.

She only nodded.

“Fine. Impress me. You have tonight only.”

“Wait- what!?” She shrieked, grinding her teeth in frustration at him, letting out groans at this new development. “You piece of-”

“Ah, ah. Insulting me won’t convince me, woman.”

Guilliman: “You make Sicarius from the Text to Speech series sound good.”  
Konrad: “He is also just as punchable.”  
Angron: *Very angry grunt of agreement*

She was breathing heavily through her nose, eyes flashing in anger as she imagined him being thrown from the top of the Fortress Monastery. 

However… Instead of doing that, she swallowed her anger and plastered a smile on her face as she walked forward towards him.

He didn’t like that look in her eyes.

She didn’t say anything as she climbed atop him, finally able to look at him from an even platform, even if she was now nestled atop him. “Fine. Firstly, husband and wives kiss.”

“Kissing isn’t necessary.”

“Well, I say it is. You have taken my virginity and used me every night since we married, but you have not kissed me once.”

“It’s not-”

“If you say those words again, you concede defeat.”

Lion nearly sputtered at her, “I am sorry, but did you just make up a rule? You can’t do that-”

“No plan survives first contact with the enemy.” She said in a sing-song voice, causing him to slightly recoil in surprise. Did she just quote his own words back at him? “Yes I can, since I am your wife and I am your equal, whether you like it or not.” She roughly grabbed him on the both sides of his cheeks. “Now, for once shut up and put that mouth to good use.”

She leaned in and kissed him, his lips as hard and cold as stone and completely unmoving. She pulled back and looked at him with a frown on her face. “This requires effort on both sides you know.”

He quirked an eyebrow at her. “What do you mean?”

She blinked once, then twice, then for a third time. Then a wicked smile appeared on her face.

“Could it be that the mighty Lion’el Jonson doesen’t even know how to kiss his wife? My, my, my, if only someone else were to hear about that little tidbit of information...”

Her teasing tone caused a blush to appear on his face, even as she leaned in so close to his ear he could feel her gentle breath.

“Luckily for you I do. Now just try moving your mouth gently and go with the flow and relax.”

She moved back and kissed him again. This time with the Lion actually reciprocating some of the movement after a moment of hesitation. And sure enough... he slowly began to return her kiss.

Fulgrim: *Blushing* “My my my, such wonderful passion!”  
Lion: *Angry grumbles*

She slowly reached down for one of his arms and guided it to her back before slowly letting it trickle lower, while, with her other hand she began to reach up to cup his cheeks, easing him deeper into the kiss. She slowly began to edge her mouth away from his lips toward his neck. And when she reached it she gave it a gentle kiss, only for Lion's entire body to jolt like a bolt of electricity.

“What was that-!?” Lion demanded, nearly about to push her off of him.

She stopped and looked upwards at him, eyebrow arched. “Pleasure. You just felt pleasure, Lion.”

“Don’t do it again.”

“Why?” She edged closer to his neck, rubbing against it as he started to edge away from her lips.

“Because I don’t like it.” He answered evasively, unknowingly her hands slipping and close to the back of his neck at this point.

“Lion, it’s normal. Now, stop moving, I am going to fall off-”

“That is not my problem, woman-!”

Slipping, she tried to grab for anything, and ended up grabbing the hair on the back of Lion’s neck… leading to a discovery she would never forget… A tug and then-

“Wha-” Lion stumbled in speech, making a peculiar sound that made her pause.

Magnus: “Wait!”  
Lion: “Shut. Up.”  
Leman: *Feels the hairs on his neck stand* “Oi, was that-”  
Lion: “Shut up Leman!”

“...Lion… are you… _ **purring**_!?”

Lion: “NOPE. NO. TURN IT OFF, NOTHING IS HAPPENING, NONE OF YOU ARE SEEING ANYTHING, THIS IS LIES AND SLANDER AND- AND I’M NOT ENJOYING THAT ONE BIT AND- STOP LAUGHING YOU ASSHOLES!”  
Emps: *Murmuring to himself* “SO THAT'S WHERE THAT FELINE DNA WENT TO…”  
Guilliman: “What was that?”  
Emps: “Nothing.”  
Magnus: *Snickering* “No wonder you act the way you do. I have over twenty cats, I should have seen it coming.”

Suddenly, before she could fall farther, she felt him grab her and instinctively hold her close to him. Whether it was him keeping her from falling or to prevent her from pulling on his hair yet again, she didn’t know. Especially with that look in his eyes that he refused to talk about. He would have made her remove her hands, but with such a grip there, if he moved her, she would pull again and he would-

“That is just…” She started to laugh, making him sputter at her, angrily like- “...that is the cutest thing I have ever seen!”

Lion: *His face rapidly approaching what can roughly be called the colour of Magnus’ skin*

He frowned intensely, not wanting to say anything. He didn’t trust himself to not say anything else, he didn’t feel like he was in control, he wasn’t- he-

“Who would have thought that big, bad Lion El’ Jonson, Primarch of the Dark Angels and the Emperor’s Knight purrs like a kitten when someone pulls his hair.” She teased more, leaning closer to him, hands still a vice grip on his long strands.

“Stop it.” He ground out, severely embarrassed that she knew and discovered something even he didn’t know existed! How long had this been a thing!? “Let. Go.”

“Why?” She questioned in a seductive tone, giving the hair another tug as he went nearly slack jawed and the purring started up again. “You’re _adorable_ like this.” She purred in return, actually feeling something begin to stir inside of her. “Like clay to be moulded by my hands.”

“Sh… Sh… Shtoooop…” He muttered out, face flaming hot as he both couldn’t stop her or push her off. “I can’t… I can’t think…”

She gave another tug, making his mouth fall open which she took advantage of and kissed him again, this time feeling something new bloom between the two of them. She finally got to taste him in a new way, feeling him actually reciprocate and… She only enjoyed the sensation of him just being… himself.

He, in turn, was assaulted with new sensations, new thoughts, new feelings, a barrage of… something… He was moving instinctively, like he had no control over himself. Simply letting pure emotion take over.

The worst part was… he was genuinely enjoying it.

When they finally pulled away, they stayed close with only a single tiny space between their lips. Both breathing heavily, eyes dilated and pusles running wild as they stayed like that for just a second. Or was it an eternity?

They both wanted more, something that shocked Lion as usually he simply forced it? No, that wasn’t it… That is not what happened, was it? Why did he care, she was his wife, that was all, it did not matter-

“Lion.” She spoke, voice heavy with want.

She has never spoken to him like that before. A voice filled with want- no, need. 

She even smelled differently, felt different in this moment. Even he himself felt different in this moment, not just doing this because it was needed, but now… He knew he wouldn’t be able to get up from the chair, he did not trust his legs at the moment.

For once, he allowed his hands to roam over her body for more than a measly second, feeling the smooth and milky soft skin beneath the fabric of her dress. Feeling every curve of her body even as the scent of her bathing oils and wonderful perfumes sneaked past his senses as lovely and with such mastery as if they were performing a duel and he was but a novice.

And he did not mind in the slightest.

It made him aware of just how… soft this thing was… this… woman sitting on top of him, this lovely, beautiful thing that aroused his senses as she did. A very decidedly male part of his very being responded so positively to her in a way he did not know was possible.

This wife of his.

 _His_ wife.

She was very much _his._

Leaning back in, for the first time ever, he initiated a kiss even as his hands began to greedily grasp at her clothes. This time feeling the drive for far more than just a second after her defiance.

It looked as if the chair would be stained. And he is strangely fine with that.

And it looks like he lost the challenge.

Emps: “SKIPSKIPSKIPSKIPSKIPSKIPSKIP-”  
Holoprojector: *Launches an old dataslate at Emps*  
Emps: *Barely dodges* “DID IT JUST...SHOOT AT ME?”  
Magos: *Applying sacred oils to the projector* “You are just a sassy girl right now, aren’t you?”

**...** **  
** **992.M30 - Caliban,** _**Aldurakh** _   
**…**

Emps: “OH, OKAY. TIME SKIP.”

The chill of winter had gone with the new bloom of spring pushing away what was left of the snow and ice.

Selena sat in her finely decorated bedchamber at a vanity, brushing her hair and wearing a… slightly revealing nightgown.

Leman: *Wolf whistle*  
Lion: *Glares at Leman but doesn’t say anything*  
Fulgrim: *Takes notice of this but doesn’t say anything yet*  
Angron: *Still glaring at Lion*

It had taken the length of their entire marriage, and an inordinate amount of careful planning, poking and prodding but… she had finally managed to at least breath some manner of life into her personal chambers. She was hoping it wouldn’t take nearly as long to get visitors in, though she knew it would be an uphill battle. Having her mother give her advice would be an Emperor blessed gift at the moment since...

Well, she knew that the glow on her face was a sure sign she must be carrying now, after those long hours of heaving out everything she ate the night before and the morning thereafter. She had a vague idea on what to expect next, but what she desperately craved was her mother’s intuition and guidance. New mothers always needed their own to guide through the first born, as per tradition of course, one she so happened to agree with.

Though she now wondered what Lion would say. His whole idea was that he get an heir and she provided. But she did suppose that their… oh she could call it a relationship now, they were getting on a bit more than their romp on his chair. Perhaps she might even be able to get him to understand more of her position? Obviously their child would need her around to feed, care for and raise the child after all. She thought to herself, running a brush through her hair as she caught herself smiling into the mirror as she prepared to make her way to Lion’s bedchambers, share the news and…

Was she… actually looking forward to it? Looking forward to not just the sex but him as well? Ever since their moment on the chair and- She paused, her face warm and a smile blooming on her face. He had been more affectionate and attentive to not just his needs but hers as well. While it would not be the ideal marriage of her dreams, there definitely was progress. Of course they still had their arguments, but now? He let her massage his shoulders, he had not insulted her and…

He was an avid learner of pleasure once she got him going.

Lion: *Takes a deep breath and schools his face, as if he is bracing for something*  
Magnus: *Glances at Lion, noticing just the smallest hint of **guilt** *

She cleared her throat and hoped no one could see her flaming cheeks. She had heard from the other ladies that once you took a husband, even if you did not truly love, nor care for him, you would in time. Especially once you shared a bed and continued to do so it is possible to… Possible to...

She stopped her brushing, placing the brush on the vanity as she cupped her cheeks, her cool hands stinging her face as she imagined what she would look like in the months to come. Large and rounded belly, the swelling of her body, a new roundness to her face, the glow of pregnancy emanating from her as she carried the child of Lion El’Jonson…

Lion: *Says and does nothing, doesn’t even look like he’s changed at all from the impassive stare at the screen*  
Sanguinius: *Sees Fulgrim watching Lion and starts doing so as well*  
Lion: *Just glares at the both of them*

She wondered if it was a boy, there was a 50-50 chance of it being the desired gender after all… Would he be disappointed if she birthed a girl for him? He did say quite clearly that he wanted a son, what Lord did not?

But… But with everything they shared, everything they did, everything she learned of him and he learned of her, surely it would be without issue if it was a girl. Perhaps she could bear more of his children in the future? If it did not work the first time, maybe they could try again?

Spotting the time, she grabbed a dressing robe and covered her gown, slipping on her slippers and began to make her way to his bedchambers with the same two marines who always followed her.

Emps: “THERE IS AN ODD AMOUNT OF TENSION IN THE AIR. LION. WHAT HAPPENS?”  
Lion: “...it is what we agreed on.”  
Magnus, Sanguinius, Konrad and now Lorgar: _ **...oh.  
**_ Emps: “HOW BAD IS IT?”  
Konrad: *Humorless chuckling*  
Sanguinius: “That poor woman has no idea what is going to happen.”  
Lorgar: “I never asked to have this power, I don’t think I am ever going to get used to it.”  
Magnus: “Give it time, it’s never going to be a joy to use and have, but might as well adjust yourself to precognition. But yes, Father, it is really bad.” *Looks towards Lion* “Excruciatingly bad.”  
Lion: *Stares*  
Emps: *Takes his hands, presses them together and against his lips as he takes a deep breath, gaze not leaving the vid as he watches Selena practically running to Lion* “...OH BOY.”

She reached his bedchamber, already letting herself in, and bristling with excitement to see Lion glancing up at her before going back to his work at his desk.

That was fine, he was always like that. Surprising herself by letting her excitement show, especially since this had all begun with her wanting to simply get this over with and return to the life she had with her true family. But after learning so much about him, going through so much… she could no longer deny that she was feeling not only excitement at the prospect of raising a child with this man, but even some true, genuine, happiness.

She had made her way up to the working form of Lion, hoping to get a glance at his work, maybe leave a small graze on his arm before waiting for him on his bed. He did like the small touches and even the secret pleasure of his ne-

Lion: *Clears his throat very loudly, some notice just the smallest of color on his cheeks at this mention*

-so maybe she could-

“You are different. I take it, you are with child finally?” He had asked curtly, straight to the point. She did detect a new stiffness to his form, something she didn’t like one bit. If he was stiff like this, he was about to give bad news and she was very much not in the mood for bad news at the moment.

“Yes, I confirmed it only but an hour ago though I had my suspicions before that. Is it not wonderful news?” She answered, smiling as she reached out to touch him, maybe relieve some tension and get him to speak on whatever it was that was on his mind.

“Finally. You will report to the quarantine area and you will stay there until delivery. You are no longer required to come to my quarters, nor are you allowed to leave quarantine until the child has been delivered.”

Silence. All she could hear was the blood suddenly rushing through her head, her heart slowing down as she took in his words. Her world began to spin, her mind refusing to admit to what she had just heard.

More words left the Lion’s mouth. Words that made no sense. Words that made her disbelief turn to fury and her fear into anger.

The world began to pass as a blur. Time itself becoming irrelevant as she screamed words she never thought herself capable of even telling herself, much less shouting at her husband.

It all ended with the Lion standing, facing his wife, and calling for the Marines.

The last image that would come to her for the longest of times was that of her slapping his face as hard as she could, before being dragged away, the Lion’s face growing smaller and smaller as darkness took her.

Emps: “NO. NO. PAUSE IT RIGHT NOW, MAGOS!” 

The vid paused and the Emperor turned straight to Lion, a barely simmering fury growing within. “YOU DID WHAT!?”

The Lion merely sat up straighter, “I did as our contract stated. I wanted a son, we would marry in name only, once the child was confirmed she would be taken care of in all manner and kept safe until delivery. She requested peace and quiet afterwards and that was what I gave her! She read the contract, she signed the contract, I do not understand why all of you have such strong opinions on what I do on my own time.”

“I-I…” Sanguinius sputtered. “I… brother… I have no words. This... this goes beyond just a contract.”

“How and why? It is the agreed upon-”

“It is about morals!” Horus shouted, surprising everyone. “Paperwork be damned Lion, you just scarred that woman for life!” 

The Lion turned to face the Warmaster, a scowl upon his face. “She is fine, I assure you. She has food, water, she has entertainment, she has been given everything someone needs to survive.”

“What about the child?” Roboute quickly asked. “Where is he?”

“Safe.” The Lion simply answered.

“Safe where?” Corvus asked. “In the fortress?”

“He is strong and he has plenty of my genes. Anywhere he goes, he is safe.”

“So, that’s a no to the fortress, where is he?” Magnus finished for Corvus.

“I am giving him the same upbringing I was given. My time in the forests of Caliban were hard and shaped me into who I am today. My aim is to make Gabriel as strong as I so he may be a good enough heir to take over my legion should I pass.” He sighed.

“The forest?! Are yer’ wolfin kidding me? Yer stuck yer own blood child into a forest filled with deamons!? That’s a death sentence!” Leman began to shout in outrage. “Yer’ can’t just abandon yer kin!”

“Is it not any different to the trials you put your own aspirants to? He is strong, he is fine. I do not understand why all of you continue to condemn this? None of this is an issue.” He flippantly deflected Leman, simply another subject they do not agree with.

“HE IS A CHILD OF EIGHT.” The Emperor stood, attempting to reason with his son. “HOW LONG HAS IT-” The Emperor trailed off. “YOUR REQUEST FOR LEAVE FOUR YEARS AGO.” 

The Lion merely scowled. “And?”

“YOUR SON, MY GRANDSON, HAS SPENT FOUR YEARS IN A FOREST FILLED WITH DAEMONIC BEINGS!?” The Emperor shouted, not able or even caring to stop himself. “HOW DO YOU KNOW HE IS EVEN ALIVE?”

The Lion answered, and the Emperor argued further.

But none of this was heard anymore by Konrad, who himself slowly began to stand.

His mind was made up. The crime had been committed. The punishment was due now.

He saw more crimes spew forth from the Lion’s mouth even as Konrad lunged, going for the kill, his future sight failing to warn him about-

He felt himself freeze in mid-air, the Emperor holding him there even as multiple Custodes entered the room and began to hold him back.

“Unhand me!” Konrad screamed. “I will kill him!”

“NO.” The Emperor ordered. “NONE OF YOU WILL. WE SHALL COME TO A BETTER OUTCOME THEN SIMPLY DEATH.”

“I judge you, Lion El’Jonson! I judge you! I judge you for your crimes against multiple parties! I judge you for your crimes of abandonment! I judge you!” The rage and spittle that came from Konrad was terrifying, his jet black eyes focused directly on the Lion even as he strained against the Custodes that held him back. “I will never stop! Not until you die at my feet, choking on your own blood! I swear it!”

“GET HIM OUT.” The Emperor ordered as the Custodes began dragging Konrad away and the tension in the room began to only rise. “HE WILL CALM EVENTUALLY.”

“Father- Father please you need to help me calm down Angron, he’s on the verge of snapping and I am doing my best and it is not working.” Lorgar was quickly speaking, doing his best to calm down Angron who already clenched his fists on his armrests and reduced them to dust.

The Emperor sighed. “ANGRON… CALM YOURSELF. WE SHALL RETRIEVE THE CHILD. AND WE WILL MAKE ALL OF THIS RIGHT.”

“And why would you interfere with my plans on how to raise my own heir?” The Lion asked. 

“BECAUSE WE HAVE LOST ENOUGH OF THIS FAMILY AS IT IS. AND I WILL HAVE NO MORE BE LOST TO SUCH A FOOLISH ACTION AS ASTARTES TRIALS AT THE AGE OF FOUR!”

“I am doing as I always have. It is not as if I am abusing him, I am raising him as I once was. We shall retrieve him once enough time has passed and he shall begin his more formal training.” He scoffed, “You are acting as if he is my slave. As if Selena is my slave. I treat them as I see fit.”

The Emperor turned his attention to Angron, who at the very moment those words left the Lion’s mouth began to shake. The Emperor entered the former gladiator's mind and _struggled_ to even try and calm him. All the Emperor could see were flashes of a blonde haired woman, faces of two women mixing and phasing in and out.

“Lion…” Horus sighed. “You can’t be serious right now.” He rubbed his eyes in exasperation. “At least… at least tell me you granted your wife her wish.”

“Of course.” The Lion huffed. “She is at Aldurahk, upon her floor and left alone as she has stated expressly in the contract.”

Angron breathed harder, like a wounded animal. The Emperor could not stop the barrage of memories and images that assaulted his mind, the echoing voices of the women on his mind. Could not stop the images of what they suffered dancing in His son’s mind’s eye.

“Why… why not let her go home to her family?” Vulkan asked tenderly. “She has fulfilled her side of the contract, brother.”

“It was not stated so in the contract. She will be left alone as she so herself wished.” The Lion sniffed. “Why is that so hard to grasp.”

“Wait, alone?” Magnus acquired. “As in, literally?”

“Of course.” The Lion scoffed again. “She said so.”

Silence took the room. 

“But… that is cruel.” Fulgrim stated. “Left alone, your child thrown into a pit of hell, your husband leaving you, no companions, no outside contact, nothing to distract you, not even so much as knowing what is going on in the outside world. Brother… that is not ‘being left alone’ that is slavery.” Fulgrim finished, disbelief entering his voice at the final sentence.

“She fulfilled her side of the bargain! She did as I asked, I did as she asked! I am not a slaver, she simply has served her purpose!” Lion snapped to his brothers, done with the conversation.

Too much.

It became all too much to hold back.

The butcher’s nails, the memories, the regret and the open anger…

It threw off the Emperor and let itself free as Angron roared like a wounded animal, his teeth bearing themselves like a bear about to kill, his eyes wide and filled with the sight of a beast who had just seen blood.

Angron stood, and despite being un-armoured and without his weapons, he needed them not.

And everyone in the room knew that.

So when Angron grabbed his throne, bolted to the ground as it was, and ripped it free with the ease of opening a door, before throwing it at the Lion… _everyone_ got out of the way.

The Lion dodged at the last second, the throne impacting the steel wall and bending it as it shattered.

“ANGRON! CALM YOURSELF!” The Emperor shouted, standing in front of his son before Angron pushed him away, the Emperor so taken aback by this he did not even think about blocking.

The Red Angel was like a hurricane. A tsunami of pure and utter rage as he stampeded his way across the room, the thrones that dared to be in his path not even registering as he smashed through them, his mind focused solely upon his brother.

Finally reaching him, the Lion drew the sword he carried with him on his dress uniform, slashing it masterfully at Angron, cutting his throat, then a slash against his chest, and against his face, making Angron bleed.

But no regular blade would ever be enough to even seriously wound a Primarch.

As Angron advanced, and the Lion retreated, Lorgar leapt into the fight, desperately attempting to hold back Angron by grabbing onto his back, pulling his brother back. “Stop this Angron, you can’t-” Lorgar’s words were halted in his mouth as Angron slammed his head back with the speed of sound, smashing his brother's nose into a fine paste even as the Lion took this chance to swing with his sword for Angron’s throat.

Only for Angron to lean back forward and catch the blade in his mouth, tugging the Lion closer even as his teeth shattered the Adamantium and his massive arms took a hold of his brother.

Magnus and Sanguinius were quick to drag Lorgar away from the battle, knowing that when it came to Angron fighting, either the one going against him would fall or Angron would die in the attempt. “Brother, brother, listen, we know you want to help Angron, but right now I don’t think you have the strength to stop him.” Magnus angrily muttered at Lorgar who was struggling to get back to Angron.

“Magnus is right, Lorgar, we need to- please stop struggling!” Sanguinius bit out, not wanting a brother to jump into a fight he would not be able to contribute anything to.

The Lion grabbed onto Angron’s throat, squeezing hard enough to tear muscle.

But something as trivial as pain had never deterred the Red Angel.

Angron squeezed upon Lion’s ribcage, breaking ribs and making the Lion growl in pain even as he lifted his brother higher and higher, until the Lion was looking at his crazed, angered, maddened brother, directly in his eyes, filled with un-ending hatred.

At that moment the Lion knew… he was dead.

Angron pulled back, and threw his brother so hard that the Lion flew easily through multiple thrones, the Primarch’s dodging at the last second up until the Lion smashed through a massive marble column that Magos Lehm had taken refuge behind, and then clean through the ornate steel wall, Angron not far behind, roaring with all his might as he went directly through the wall himself, serving to only make the room bigger.

Finally snapping out of his reverie, the Emperor stood to his full height and began his march to Angron, psychically pushing away all debris and thrones in his way with not even a single thought, much less a motion. No longer was the Emperor a man clad in wonderful dress, he was a being, radiating fury, with eyes made of pure golden sunlight. He said not a single word, merely making his way straight for Angron and Lion.

Behind their Father, Horus led Mortarion, Roboute, Vulkan, Jaghatai and Corvus to stop the raging duo from causing anymore damage to the _Bucephalus_. “Everyone else, hold here If they end up coming through here once more, then converge and detain.” The eldest didn’t stop to hear an affirmative, only chasing after their Father who was now melting parts of his own ship to get to the raging duo with only his own aura.

Magnus and Sanguinius kept Lorgar with them, mostly to keep him from running off and involving himself into the fight, who for his part, was angrily shouting at them, “Unhand me! I need to stop Angron, he needs me to-”

“To what? Throw yourself in the middle of his rage and get torn apart by one of the few Primarchs able and willing to kill you?” Sanguinius shot back, pinning Lorgar down. “All we can do is possibly surprise them if they come through the viewing room again! Or Father is able to detain them himself! Do you not have faith in Father?”

Lorgar shut his mouth with an audible click. He knew it was a low blow from Sanguinius, but it made sense.

Down the halls of the _Bucephalus_ , Angron and Lion appeared as a blur to even the Custodes that converged on their position to attempt and separate the two. Any that got too close being deflected by either the Lord of the First, or the Red Angel. 

None would interrupt this duel. Even in his maddened state did Angron know that, as he swatted away any who got close enough and focused himself completely on his brother. The nails biting harder, singing a symphony of rage and wrath. 

They had most likely gotten through one third of the ship, painting it with their blood as they went along, destroying everything in their path.

Objects, doors, walls, Custodes… none stood in their way and remained in one piece. The _Bucephalus_ was quickly turned from the flagship of the Emperor to looking more like something that had been dragged out of a scrapyard.

The Lion could not hold for much longer. Angron was far too skilled in hand to hand combat, his fury too unpredictable, his hits far too brutal to block easily.

Angron’s arm broke. The Lion’s ribcage shattered completely. Angron’s shoulder broke. The Lion’s stomach nearly collapsed. Angron’s face was nearly caved in. One of Lion’s heart’s stopped working…

The Lion was rapidly coming to one swift conclusion.

He was losing.

He blocked another blow, parried yet another, swung and missed…

Angron wound back his arm, the Lion twisting his head, only to realize at the last second that it was a feint…

Another punch flew, this one aimed directly for the Lion’s throat.

If it landed. His brother’s punch would crush his larynx, and even a Primarch could not survive without oxygen…

The Lion closed his eyes, and waited.

**“CEASE THIS MADNESS AT ONCE!”**

The shout… _ney_ the _roar_ of the Emperor’s voice made Angron stop and the Lion’s eyes flip open just quickly enough to see Horus reach for and grab onto one of Angron’s arms, with Roboute doing so onto his other and Vulkan grabbing Angron from behind, wrapping his arms around his brothers chest and squeezing tight.

Angron, not capable of recognizing friend from foe in his fury, thrashed like a wounded beast, smashing Vulkan on his face multiple times. But unlike Lorgar before, Vulkan only squeezed harder.

“Father!” Vulkan shouted. “Calm him, I beg of you!”

The Lion stood, watching his brother roar and foam at the mouth, all the while looking at him with a look filled with pure loathing and anger.

He was about to speak, when all of a sudden, he too was grabbed by Jaghatai and Corvus, each on one of his sides. “What-” He sputtered. “What are you doing!?” He demanded. 

“Keeping you from spewing out any more bullshit.” Corvus answered even as in front of them, their father stepped forward through the rubble of the room they were in, two of the walls long since gone along with the furniture.

The Emperor stood in front of Angron, and took hold of his son’s temples.

 _ **“SLEEP.”**_ The command echoed both through reality and unreality, causing Angron’s body to slowly go still, and his head lull to the side, finally slumping entirely into Vulkan’s arms, who guided him gently to the floor.

“Finally.” The Lion said, spitting out a tooth. “Now let me go.”

“You know brother.” Jaghatai began. “Corvus really did have a point. Sometimes it is best to have you stay quiet.”

The next thing the Lion knew was darkness, as from behind him, Mortarion picked up one of the very few remaining chairs, and hit the Lion directly on his head, where he knew it would induce a coma, even in a Primarch.

“Finally.” Mortarion grumbled, dropping the bent and cracked chair. “I thought he would never shut his mouth.” 

As Corvus and Jaghatai let the Lion fall to the floor, the other Primarchs that had remained from behind approached through the rubble of what was once the _Bucephalus’_ main hallway. 

“Holy shite.” Leman swore. “Are they-”

“No, just knocked unconscious.” Roboute pointed out, making some of the Primarch’s sigh in relief.

Wandering closer through the rubble, Lorgar knelt by Angron’s side and tenderly cradled his head. Relieving Vulkan of his duty.

“How did all of this go so wrong?” Sanguinius wondered aloud. “We were tense but…”

“We pushed too hard.” Magnus whispered, causing more of the Primarch’s to sigh even as the Emperor stood between his two unconscious sons, looking like a statue watching over a grave.

“Father?” Horus prodded gently. “Are you… alright?” He reached up, putting a hand on his Father’s shoulder.

“I AM… FINE HORUS.” The Emperor rumbled, far gentler than before, but his words still echoing with lingering power. “IT MAY BE TOO LATE TO ADMIT IT BUT… I WAS PERHAPS WRONG.”

All of the present Primarch’s stood, shocked into silence.

Finally, it was Magnus who broke it. “What do you mean you were wrong father?”

“I HAD HOPED THAT BY WATCHING THESE VIDS TOGETHER. SEEING THIS HORRIBLE FUTURE THAT WOULD HELP US AVOID MAKING IT STAY THIS WAY… WE WOULD BOND. AS A FAMILY SHOULD…” The Emperor looked over to where the Lion was laying. “IF I KNEW IT WOULD CAUSE KONRAD TO ATTEMPT AND DO WHAT HE DID. AND ANGRON COMMIT…” He let his words linger in the air.

“You can’t do it alone anymore father.” Horus reminded the Emperor. “You never needed to. But it can’t just be us, here, stuck on this ship either.”

The Emperor nodded, slowly milling it over.

“YOU ARE CORRECT HORUS…” He trailed off again. “I REQUIRE COUNSEL THAT I CANNOT FIND HERE.”

“Terra.” Lorgar immediately spoke up from the floor, where he was with Angron. “Malcador.”

The Emperor nodded yet again. 

“It will make the Sigilite very happy to hear that.” Roboute sighed. “At least we got that out of this whole, sordid, mess.”

“So.” Corvus interrupted. “We make way for Terra?”

“NO.” The Emperor shook his head. “NO. ONE LAST THING. I PROMISE UPON MY SOUL AND THRONE, ONE LAST THING TO DO.”

The Primarch’s held their collective breaths. Did their father not yet learn? Did this catastrophe of a fight not show him the truth?

The Emperor turned to face a nearby Custodes. “SEND A COMMAND TO THE HELM. MAKE SURE THE SHIP IS STILL CAPABLE OF WARP TRAVEL AND THEN CHART A COURSE FOR CALIBAN.”

The Primarchs began to look at one another, before Fulgrim took the initiative. “And… why are we headed there father?” He had a suspicion. But he wanted confirmation.

“LION’S WIFE AND CHILD. I WILL NOT STAND FOR HIS SINS.” The Emperor looked down at his aforementioned unconscious son just as multiple Custodes apothecaries arrived. “TAKE HIM AND ANGRON TO THE MEDBAY. KEEP THEM IN THEIR COMAS. I SHALL DEAL WITH LION LATER.”

“What of Ragio?” Lorgar inquired quickly, worried for his newfound nephew.

“KEEP HIM AWAY. TELL HIM NOTHING FOR NOW. BEST HE DOES NOT KNOW OF THIS. HE WILL FIND OUT WHEN HE NEEDS TO.”

Roboute groaned “I will see to those orders.” He began to walk off. “I shall remain on _Macragge’s Honour_. See to the paperwork, seeming as we are going to the Throneworld, certain procedures will need to take place. And the courtesy of warning them will go a long way.”

The Emperor nodded even as Magnus walked by. “I will go and transfer Ragio to the _Photep_ , make sure my first Captain keeps a careful eye on him, the library ought to distract him enough for now.”

“GOOD.” The Emperor acknowledged. “HORUS, JAGHATAI. PREPARE YOUR SONS TO DEPLOY, WE WILL MOST LIKELY NEED TO SCOUR THAT FOREST. MAGNUS, AFTER YOU ARE DONE WITH RAGIO, RETURN AT ONCE, I SHALL REQUIRE YOUR PSYCHIC TALENT. AND LEMAN.” The Wolfking turned to the Emperor, one of his eyebrows quirked. “THAT PAIR OF WOLVES YOU HAVE. BRING THEM, WE SHALL HAVE NEED OF THEM.”

Leman smiled. “Aye father, I believe I can be of help there.”

“THE REST OF YOU. AT WILL UNTIL WE ARRIVE AT TERRA. SEE TO YOUR BUSINESS.”

The Primarch’s all acknowledged the Emperor’s orders in their own way before beginning to disperse just as the various servitors and Serfs began to arrive and clean up the mess. The grumbling Tech Priest working running around and doing a damage assessment as Angron and Lion were both taken away by the Custodes. 

The Emperor himself left his sons and decided to spend just a moment away from all of them, and to lead from the _Bucephalus_ from its command throne on the bridge.

Soon, the brothers all relayed their respective orders to their ships about the change of course. Some contemplated just teleporting to their own ships to process what had happened, get some time away from each other until they were at Terra… But most agreed with staying on the _Bucephalus_ instead, deciding to suffer through these final moment’s together. Knowing that they would _finally_ have the time to be away from each other fairly soon.

As they rested on the way to Caliban, certain Primarchs that had already fathered their offspring, began to think about the past events of the past… Day or so?

One of the said Primarch’s had been pondering something for a while now, ever since he had begun to watch the actions of Selena. Not many times did the mothers play a part in these vids and seeing her here and now? 

Leman Russ began to really think about the role mothers would play and how there was one thing missing from all of the vids he had seen with him as the focus.

There was no wife. No mother to be spotted at all...

Where was she? Freya, a child, could not have just appeared out of nowhere. Took two to dance, after all. Where was even a mention of her? Why did she not appear? If his daughter was such a wild thing, wouldn’t the mother have reigned her in? Or taught her anything?

Was she dead? Was that the real reason he had unceremoniously kept Freya on Macragge and away from her mother?

That was a worrying thought. Until he had a better understanding or even some evidence, he wouldn’t ponder on it anymore, it would do him far more harm than good to doubt himself so. His patience would be rewarded with the information he required… all in due time.

Another, just the same as Leman, was pondering on his own next of kin, but for a very different reason.

She had to be somewhere out there, but where? Was it Cthonia? If that was the case, how had she gone undetected all these years? What if it was some other planet? Cold, desolate and remote. So far away from the Imperium he would never find her. What had happened to his daughter? Had she even been born?

Horus Lupercal was pacing, unable to sit still as he allowed his mind to wander. 

The Warmaster within him attempted to try and think about the safety of his brothers, but the idea of his daughter out there was eating away at him, gnawing at his very soul, at something far far deeper…

He wanted to know if she was safe, was she alright? Was she even alive?

So many questions, with little to no answers to be found anywhere...

Horus strode up to a viewport and gazed out, looking at the stars.

She could be out there. On or near any one of those. Somewhere…

He promised himself then and there. The words of his father echoed in his mind as he did so and the shutters began to slide into place across the viewport, preparing the _Bucephalus_ for travel through the Warp. 

He would find her.

The shutters closed, and the _Bucephalus_ entered the Warp.

**...**

The arrival of the Emperor of Mankind with an entourage of his own sons spread like wildfire amongst the noble circles of Caliban. Many were awaiting the visit with bated breath, even getting a glimpse of their Emperor and his sons was rumored to give luck and favour amongst any who could claim such.

The crowd that gathered around the outer perimeter of _Aldurahk_ were awash with anticipation. They could glance upwards and see the _Bucephalus_ above them, high in the sky. If there was any doubt that the Emperor himself was coming to Caliban, this erased all of them.

Seeing him walk upon Caliban from his own personal golden Stormbird with two lines of Custodes and his own sons, completely erased any and all remaining doubt.

The Emperor in all his golden splendor, surrounded by four of his own sons and his Custodes and walking through their city and to _Aldurahk_. The nobles couldn’t help but throw praise and admiration to their Emperor, to his sons, the plebs behind them doing so as well. The children skittering between the legs of the nobles to try and get a better view. Even as the Emperor and his entourage passed by without even so much as a glance in their general direction, despite that, the people still felt blessed at their presence, no doubt making it the topic of discussion for weeks, months and even years in the future.

The Emperor cared nothing for the people at the moment, He was still a barely controlled raging inferno here for two people in particular. He was furious that His own sons had caused so much destruction on His own ship, pushed Him to lash out at them and now, He had to correct a mistake one of His own sons had committed. He was in no mood for pleasantries, allowing Horus to be the face for once.

And Horus did, he gave a few waves and smiles here and there, nothing compared to his full political persona but enough to satiate the people. Even the Warmaster was held down with the knowledge of not just their brother’s sin, but of his own. Wasting time, waving to people when he should be trying to find out where his possible daughter was and any other mistakes he had made.

Jaghatai and Magnus were glad Horus took care of the people, that left the two of them to slip past them and lead Leman and his two wolves to forward and into _Aldurahk_. Magnus had a feeling he was needed to possibly translate and calm down any who happened to run high on their emotions, Jaghatai would be able to cover over a lot of ground himself and very quickly, while Leman’s wolves would be invaluable to finding Gabriel should they get his scent, their very nature as Thunderwolves allowing them to smell past all of the daemonic activity within the forest.

And there was one person who would have something of Gabriel’s.

Gaining entrance into _Aldurahk_ was easy, once the Dark Angels saw who it was demanding entrance, they folded easily and allowed them entry without so much as a single challenge.

Magnus knew his Father was still a bubbling mass of fury when he looked to a single Dark Angel and quickly ripped out the knowledge of the fortress and their residents from the Marine’s mind.

The unlucky Dark Angel fell to ground completely knocked out as the many marines quickly made a path for their Emperor, terrified of what he was doing there, why one of their brothers was on the ground, and the furious look was present upon the face of their Emperor.

If he could, the Emperor would have left an angry trail of molten rock behind him as he climbed the stairs to the seventh floor of the fortress monastery. He spoke not a single word, knowing his sons were close behind. He did concede that he would have to calm himself if he was going to get Selena’s help in finding Gabriel, though he considered just taking the knowledge from her as well in his venture to get them out of the fortress monastery and away from this hell they had been condemned to.

However, that could lead to more problems. So he would have to play nice and not snap at anyone else.

When the group reached the doors to Selena’s “cell” being guarded with two Dark Angels, the Emperor just briefly considered slapping them away and breaking down the doors himself. 

“MOVE ASIDE.” He ordered, the Dark Angels doing so immediately and opening the door for the Emperor. They were silent, knowing any order from the Emperor overrode any and all given to them by their Primarch.

Inside the chamber the air was still. It was finely decorated, yet the furniture looked as if it wasn’t used very often, the banners that hung were stiff and the room itself looked as if it wasn’t that lived in.

She sat on a chair, turned to the window and barely acknowledged them. All around her were bouquets of flowers, many different kinds in various states of decay and liveliness. She held a single flower in her hand, a yellow daffodil, twisting it gently in her fingers.

From what they remembered of the vid, Selena looked slightly gaunt compared to her vibrancy in the vid. She had been slim before, now she looked unhealthy and pale. Her eyes were half lidded and she seemed to be speaking to herself, lips moving, yet nothing came out.

The sight made the Emperor finally cool down, the raging inferno within calmed as he began to approach her. She stopped twisting the flower and her lips stopped moving, yet she didn’t look to him or even turn to him.

“LADY SELENA OF HOUSE GREIL?”

She didn’t say or do anything.

The Emperor cleared his throat, “I AM THE EMPEROR.” He paused. “MASTER OF MANKIND? YOUR FATHER IN LAW?” He attempted to gain her attention once more, wary of speaking Lion’s name should it happen to invoke any negative emotions. “DO YOU UNDERSTAND THIS? UNDERSTAND ME?”

Magnus mentally spoke to his Father, _perhaps mentioning Gabriel? He could possibly shake her from this?_

Nodding, the Emperor crouched down to get to her level, no longer towering over her. “LADY SELENA… DO YOU REMEMBER GABRIEL?”

Nothing, no emotions, no movement, yet she stopped breathing as well. Holding her breath, she slowly turned to the Emperor, eyes fully opened as she stared at Him. Brown eyes meeting brown, her own filled with tears as she trembled silently.

“YOU DO, DON’T YOU?” He asked gently, watching her jerkily nod at this. “WE ARE HERE TO HELP YOU AND GABRIEL.”

Her lips moved, yet no sound came out again. She looked angry with herself, hands clenching the flower in her hands as she stopped trying to speak. Reading her lips, He did know she spoke: “Lion said he would do as he wished. Gabriel was out of my hands. That he would disturb my peace and quiet.”

The Emperor’s anger flashed, for just a second it burned brighter than a Star. 

Aware of His situation however, the Emperor quickly calmed Himself, and called over Magnus. “STEADY HER.” He commanded, as He spoke again. “LADY SELENA. WHERE IS HE NOW. WHERE IS GABRIEL? EXACTLY.”

She stopped, then raised a hand to the window she had been staring out of. Outside was an overlook of the great forest of Caliban. Looking out to the forest once more, she began twisting the flower once more, muttering to herself again.

Magnus approached, steadying the woman who barely acknowledged his presence or touch.

“HOLD HER MAGNUS.” The Emperor warned. 

“What are you going to do?” Magnus asked, even as he gently took hold of Selena’s shoulders.

“RETURN TO HER HER SANITY.” The Emperor’s eyes flashed gold, as He stretched out his mind, probing through Selena’s as easily as if He was walking through dried leaves.

No resistance met Him. Nothing questioned Him being there. No life remained.

He searched, deeper and deeper, hoping against the odds that there was some form of her sanity to return to her. Anything… anything that could help Him bring it back to her. 

It took a while, and Magnus’ whole willpower to hold her together as He did so. But finally, He found it.

Something so treasured it kept her alive. Kept her in the world of the living.

_“A boy.” The pleased voice of an Apothecary echoed. “Congratulations.”_

_She sniffled. Tears coming to her eyes as she reached out for her wailing newborn, being handed to her as soon as he was cleaned. The sheer joy and contentment on her face, despite being covered in perspiration and her hair plastered over her face. She let out shuddering, happy breaths, kissing her boy as soon as he was in her arms._

_“Oh my boy.” She cooed at the crying newborn, cradling him as he was wrapped in several blankets, bringing infinite joy to her heart. “My sweet little boy.”_

_She looked at him, standing off to the side, and smiled at him as well. “Gabriel.” She chuckled. “Gabriel El’Jonson.” She chuckled again and kept looking at the person to her side. “He has my eyes. Definitely your scowl, though.” She looked back at Gabriel, who had now calmed slightly, wriggling around with his arms, his curious eyes looking around._

_The man approached._

_“He appears… healthy.” Lion spoke, his tone hesitant and vulnerable. “Will he grow fine?”_

_“He is completely healthy.” Her smile grew as she said that, before looking up at her husband, and gesturing with the babe. “Do you want to hold him?”_

_A look of confusion crossed the Lion’s face. “I will crush him. He is far too weak.”_

_“Be gentle.” She whispered, even as for the first time in his life, the Lion reached out with unsteady hands, and took hold of his son, cradling him._

_“Gabriel.” He spoke aloud, making his son’s bright eyes swing towards his father. “A strong legend.”_

_Gabriel reached out, going for his father’s face, causing confusion to cross his face yet again as the newborn gurgled out something, making Lion almost panic even as the room was filled with Selena’s gentle, echoing laughter._

“THERE.” The Emperor spoke aloud, grabbing onto the memory and sending it across her mind, making Selena gasp, cough and spasm, as her subconscious swam back to the surface.

The first thing she did was cry. She cried hard, silent, big fat tears rolling down her face. She wanted nothing more than to go back to that moment. At least then, everything made sense in a way. She had her son, she thought she still had her husband, everything then made sense and it looked as if it was all going to be alright.

The second thing she did was attempt to rip her hair out, angry with herself, with Lion, with the Dark Angels, with her family, with the nobles, with everyone and everything. She wanted to scream, she wanted to destroy her room, break something, she wanted to rage as hard as she could.

The third thing she did was nearly collapse from worry, mind running around and wondering if Gabriel was alright, where he was now, was he okay, was he hungry, cold, was he afraid?

The barrage of emotions would have consumed her, had it not been for Magnus who steadied her not only physically, but mentally as well. He calmed her mind, kept it from running free and breaking itself with its own jump started mayhem.

Finally, she looked ahead once more, taking in the very form of the Emperor of Mankind. Magnus had to step in once more to keep her mind from going through sensory overload from all the gold, all the aura and sheir majesty that was the Emperor’s aura.

“SELENA.” The Emperor spoke again, grabbing her attention. “WE ARE GOING TO FIND GABRIEL. YOU AND YOUR SON ARE COMING WITH US, AWAY FROM CALIBAN. HOWEVER, WE CANNOT ACHIEVE THIS WITHOUT YOUR HELP.”

She nodded, waiting for his command.

“DO YOU HAVE SOMETHING THAT BELONGED TO GABRIEL? ANYTHING HE USED A LOT BEFORE… WHAT HAPPENED.”

Selena stood shakily, dropping the mutilated flower that had been in her hands. She swayed slightly as she moved to her dresser, opening a drawer and pulling out an old, small and soft blanket. The very same that had wrapped around Gabriel in his first minutes of life. She looked back to the Emperor, the worried look on her face conveying everything she wanted to say.

The Master of Mankind nodded before gesturing to Leman, “THAT SHOULD SUFFICE.”

...

They had tried using the _Bucephalus’_ ausphex arrays to check for lifesigns but to their dismay found not only an extreme amount, but the ones they found were worrying.

The ausphex went crazy. Static taking hold almost immediately. The lifesigns were most definitely not truly of this world.

So it was with utmost speed that after making sure Selena would safely arrive on the _Bucephalus_ , that the present Primarch’s ran for the entrance of the forest, their escort of Custodes and semi-willing presence of Dark Angels escorting them as they finally arrived.

“That is the entrance my lords.” One of the present Dark Angels pointed out. “Beyond it lies the danger.”

The Emperor looked to the side, where a Custodes stood. “REPORT ME ON JAGHATAI’S FINDINGS.”

“Your majesty,” The Custodes nodded. “Lord Jaghatai reports that he has successfully circled the forest and has seen no evidence of any human life. He speculates that if Lord Gabriel is alive, he is far deeper.”

The Emperor’s face took on a grim look. If Gabriel had somehow managed to survive four years inside of this hell, the Emperor wasn’t willing to risk him surviving another second. “LEMAN.” He turned to his son. “CALL YOUR HOUNDS.”

“Aye father.” Leman stepped forward, and pressed two of his fingers into his mouth before whistling loudly.

“My lords…” One of the Dark Angels began to speak. “No hounds have ever survived the for-”

The Dark Angel’s words died on his lips as in the distance he spotted the trees swinging and very loud growling coming closer and closer.

After a minute or so of waiting, finally, two massive beasts the size of horses leapt from the forest, causing the Dark Angels to aim their bolter’s instinctively, only to have them swept away at the last time by Leman.

“Freki, Geri!” Leman called out to the two massive Thunderwolves as they approached their master, who in turn pulled out the blanket from before, bidding the two creatures to take loud sniffs of the object.

A few seconds passed, and one of the wolves let out a howl, and soon, the second matched his brother.

“They ave’ a scent.” Leman reported.

“GOOD. WE GO, IMMEDIATELY.”  
  


“Freki, Geri, hunt!” Leman ordered, causing the two wolves to immediately bound back into the forest, the Primarch’s, Custodes and the Emperor, following them suit.

**…**

“We’ve been searching for close to an hour, are you sure the wolves are right?” Horus asked, swinging Worldbreaker for a daemonic creature, shattering its head with a grunt of strength.

“A lot better than the wolf on yer shoulders.”

Horus rolled his eyes at the jest and let it slide, deciding to instead stomp on a creature slithering through the leaves towards his armoured boot, smashing it into paste.

“Magnus, do you have anything?” Horus yelled, hoping against the odds.

“No.” Magnus shook his head. “Though I think father is ahead of us.” The Emperor had gone ahead earlier, splitting off from the group with his own Custodes in hope of finding Gabriel. “He’s been in a right foul mood ever since what happened on the _Bucephalus_.” Magnus ignored Leman’s shout of ‘ _I wonder why?_ ’

And sure enough, the tree in front of them soon fell from the fiery sword of the Emperor, cutting through it as if it was butter.

“MY SONS.” The Emperor greeted, stepping closer. “I BELIEVE WE ARE CLOSE, HE WAS NOT IN THE EAST SIDE.”

“Jaghatai is swooping in through the west, as much as he can with all this thick growth.” Horus knocked away the branches above him for emphasis. “Clear so far.”

“THEN HE SHALL BE HERE.”

“Aye, if the kid is nought but bone already.” Leman grumbled, voicing the thoughts they all had aloud. 

“Your majesty!” One of the Custodes got the attention of the Emperor. “Report from the _Bucephalus_. Something big is headed our way.”

“WE HOLD HERE THEN. PREPARE YOURSELVES.”

The Primarch’s and Custodes took their places in the small clearing they were in, their enhanced eyes and ears on the lookout for what was supposed to come.

“North.” Magnus voiced, twirling his staff and casting a wave of seething warp flame, clearing out a mass of land in front of them.

His prediction came true, when in the distance of the newly made clearing, a massive beast emerged and let loose a bone chilling roar before beginning its rampage towards the group.

“KILL IT.” The Emperor ordered, as calmly as if he was ordering a meal.

The clang of bolters soon roared across the forest of Caliban as the beast stomped ever closer, its front being torn apart by the bolts, not slowing it down for one second.

Both Magnus and the Emperor were about to reach into the warp and strike the beast down, when-

“HOLD FIRE!” The Emperor ordered, just as a humanoid like thing leapt from the tree tops and _onto_ the beasts back, making it roar in pain and anger as the humanoid shoved a wooden spear into one of its eyes.

The group watched in astonishment as the humanoid held onto the spear, shoving it deeper with a roar of his own to match the monstrosity. Holding on for his life as the monster swung its head about in a wild attempt to get him off.

Until…

Crack!

The spear went straight into the monster's head, sinking into it, causing the beast to finally stumble, before finally collapsing to the ground. The humanoid did not waste a single second as it began to pull back on his weapon in an attempt to retrieve the spear.

The humanoid creature was small, thin but still muscular with long blonde hair that matted close to it’s head, covered in dried dirt and mud. It only wore a belt of sinew that held its valuables. The creature instantly turned towards the party, leveling it’s spear and baring its teeth at them.

Even without the howls of Freki and Geri, they knew they had finally found Gabriel.

“GOOD. WE FOUND HIM. GABRIEL, PUT THE SPEAR DOWN AND COME WITH US.” The Emperor gently ordered the boy who ignored him.

“I don’t believe that’s going to work, Father.” Magnus sighed, “he’s likely nonverbal and most likely unable to comprehend what you want until he calms down. Fortunately, I can help with that. Just need to get close-”

“Ah got em.” Leman approached Gabriel and the next second, the small boy snarled and leapt onto Leman, trying to stab his throat out. “Agh! Boy, yer not gonna be able to do shite tah me!” It was annoying to have a tiny child trying to stab his neck out with a wooden spear and snarling like a little monster. “Will yer stop- stop it!” Leman then began to wrestle the boy off of him, grabbing the boy and prying him off with a surprising amount of strength needed.

“He’s fookin rabid! Look at him! Still thrashin and snarlin like he’s a monster ‘imself!”

The boy attempted to bite through Leman’s grip, finding that he couldn’t bite through the ceramite of Leman’s gauntleted hands. He screamed in anger and tried to bite his own arm off to escape, being stopped by Leman who grabbed his jaw. “Will yer stop that!? Yer not goin’ anywhere so just calm down- Magnus! Magnus help!”

Gabriel had broken the grip and was back on Leman’s face, scratching and biting at the exposed skin there, growling and snarling all the way.

Horus approached, “Leman, he is a child. If you can’t subdue him, I might as well.” Then Horus stepped back quickly as Gabriel waved a stone knife at him, almost getting him the eye. “Actually, scratch that. Father, Magnus, you take care of it.”

“Magnus, take care of it! He has a knife!” Leman growled, dodging the stabs that Gabriel was throwing out. “Magnus will yer just come over and fix this!?”

“Oh no.” Magnus sang in a sing-song voice, “He has a knife. Leman cannot handle a boy with a knife. Perhaps all of this could have been avoided if you had followed my plan from the **beginning**.”

“BOYS.” The Emperor chided. “STOP FOOLING AROUND AND LET MAGNUS CALM THE BOY. I HAVE HAD ENOUGH OF THIS WORLD.”

Magnus sighed. “Alright father.” He approached Gabriel and caught his forehead in his hands. “Calm now, young one. There is no need for this, hush.” The boy began to still as Magnus took him from Leman, cradling his surprisingly sizable body. “No one is going to hurt you anymore. Be calm.” Magnus gently pried the knife from the boy's hands, allowing it to fall to the floor. “There is no need for this violence.”

Gabriel stilled almost completely, looking around in confusion as his mottled and dirty hair whipped around.

“Leman.” Magnus reached out a hand towards his brother. “The blanket.”

Leman handed it over, just as Magnus began to speak to Gabriel yet again. “There there now. Remember Selena, your mother? Hmm?” He brought the blanket forward, covering what little he could with it even as Gabriel latched onto it like a hungry beast did to prey. Clutching it so hard that his knuckles went completely white even as his eyes widened and he inhaled loudly.

“Momma…” He spoke as he buried his face into the blanket, his voice was raspy and hard to hear, as if it hadn’t been used in years. The syllables unfamiliar, the words not really his own, but it was enough to possibly try and speak again after… many, many years. 

Calmer now, the boy peeked back up at the men, big brown eyes calm and now curious. What was left of his innocence was on full display as the air around them grew silent.

To the side, Magnus could see their Father’s face darken as he watched Gabriel. The stormy expression he wore promised a lot, and none of it was going to be pleasant. “LION IS GOING TO PAY FOR THIS.”

Adjusting Gabriel in his arms, Magnus could only agree. He couldn’t imagine throwing any of his own children into a hellhole all by themselves with nothing to support them. What kind of parent would willingly do that to their child?

Only Horus kept his thoughts open as he approached his father and placed a hand upon his shoulder. “Father… do not make such a rash decision.”

The Emperor looked down at his son, directly into his eyes. “WHY? HE HAS ERRED, HE SHALL BE PUNISHED.”

Horus sighed. “Far be it from me to try and justify what Lion did. But if I may be the devil's advocate here for just a moment?”

The Emperor nodded.

“Did Lion know any better not to do this?”

The Emperor puffed up at the idea, a conflicted emotion coursing through him. “HE IS A PRIMARCH, HE SHOULD KNOW BETTER THAN TO DO… ANY OF THIS. I CRAFTED ALL OF YOU TO BE PERFECT, OR AS CLOSE TO PERFECT AS POSSIBLE. HE SHOULD HAVE KNOWN BETTER. I DO NOT NOT MAKE MISTAKES.”

“Didn’t yer admit to messin up on the-”

“DO NOT FINISH THAT SENTENCE, LEMAN. I HAVE HAD ENOUGH OF YOUR PETTY SQUABBLING FOR THIS DAY, FOR THIS CENTURY!” The Emperor took a few deep breaths, calming himself so preventing himself from causing another scene. “ENOUGH. CLEAR THE AREA FOR TRANSPORT, BURN IT DOWN IF YOU MUST. WE ARE LEAVING NOW, I DON’T CARE IF ALL OF THE DAMNED FOREST MUST GO. TELL JAGHATAI TO CONVENE WITH US, I SHALL NOT HAVE GABRIEL GO THROUGH THE RIGORS OF TELEPORTATION AT THIS MOMENT.”

“Aye, but Father-”

“ENOUGH. I DON’T WANT TO HEAR ANOTHER WORD FROM ANY OF YOU.” The Emperor sighed, attempting to calm himself. “WE SHALL SPEAK OF THIS ON TERRA, THAT I PROMISE YOU.”

...

As the Emperor and the Primarchs along with the Custodes returned to the _Bucephalus_ , Gabriel didn’t let go of Magnus for one moment, desperately clutching to him as if the cyclops was going to toss him away at any second. The boy was positively starved for affection and comfort.

That is until he saw his mother.

Selena had already been brought on board the _Bucephalus_ while they were searching for Gabriel. She had been pacing uncontrollably, muttering to herself about everything that could be going wrong and shooing away the apothecaries attempting to tend to her, hoping against odds that her baby was okay. 

When the two saw each other, she wordlessly made a beeline for her child, desperate to have him back and already close to bawling at just the sight of him. 

Gabriel immediately wriggled his way out of his uncle’s grip and ran for his mother, slamming into her with the force of a macrocannon, clutching desperately onto his mother's dress as if it was his life line.

The relief on Selena and Gabriel’s faces, embracing each other and saying nothing for a moment was enough to make a few who witnessed the reunion turn away. They were given a few moments before Magnus and an apothecary of the Thousand Sons approached them and gently got their attention.

“Pardon, I do not want to interrupt but we must check over Gabriel and make sure he is free of any Daemonic taint. After that, our brother Mortarion will personally oversee him, there is a lot to go over as you know.” Magnus spoke gently, not wanting to startle either of the two. Even if he was no expert in pediatrics, even the red sorcerer knew that those years alone in the forest would have impacted Gabriel in ways they wouldn’t be able to comprehend.

Selena nodded, still holding onto her son and refusing to let go while sniffling. Her boy was too thin, he looked more like a tiny muscular adult than a child. She was horrified to see him running around with nothing more than a belt and mud on him! Wondering if he had ever gotten enough to eat, how many times did he need her there to give him a hug, kiss away his nightmares, comfort him when he needed it?

No matter how heavy he was, she insisted on carrying him to the Apothecarium. She didn’t care if she struggled to keep up or felt as if she would collapse, she wanted to hold onto her baby just a bit longer.

It did take the Apothecary several minutes to separate the two that he was allowed to begin his assessment, and even then they were only a few feet away from each other at all times.

As Gabriel was being checked over on the Apothecarium’s table, Selena turned to Magnus with a pleading look.

“He… He was found… like this?” She asked slowly, another acquired trait she shared with her son. The both of them would need time to get used to speaking once more.

Magnus nodded, he knew there was no reason to hide any truth from her. “Yes, we found him exactly like this. He tried to stab my brother’s throat out.”

A small length away, the apothecary was using his psychic powers to display various bright and colorful shapes to distract and amuse Gabriel while he used his hands to heal the various wounds the child had sustained over his years in the forest.

Selena began to speak, glancing at her son as she did so. “He was only four.” She swallowed a lump and blinked back another bout of tears. “He was four years old when I last held him. He was only four…” Lady Jonson trailed off and the dam finally broke. She couldn’t stop the fat tears that were escaping her, even if she tried. “...my baby was alone for half of his life… I was so- I-... I was too weak to help him, I-” Her already broken speech deteriorated quickly under the stress.

“No one is blaming you for what happened.” The cyclops comforted the crying woman, unable to stop thinking about how it should have been the Lion here instead of himself. “There wasn’t much you could do, none of us blame you. None of us.”

She attempted to speak up in defiance, but he shushed her. “No, none of that. I do not want to hear about how this is your fault, or how you are to blame for not stopping any of it. The only person who deserves the blame is Lion for taking him away from you and keeping you in solitary confinement.” He was quick to shut down her protests.

Magnus then placed a hand on her head, soothing the worried mother as she slightly cringed away from him. He couldn’t help but notice the way she stood, so tired and frayed, the way she spoke with that desperate twinge in there. The forest would haunt their minds for untold years to come, no matter how far away it grew.

Releasing his touch on her, Magnus stepped back and surveyed his nephew. Gabriel was sitting up at this point, his eyes darting everywhere as he shivered just slightly. The boy wore nothing, afterall. Realizing he must be cold, Magnus took off his fur cloak and placed it over the boy, watching as he glanced up at the larger red man. Magnus would only smile before instructing his gene-son to update him when his examination was done then call for Mortarion to begin his own assessment.

With that, Magnus left the examination room and didn’t stop his stride until he found his father. Selena, when seeing Magnus was gone and leaving her with her son and the Apothecary, finally truly let go. She let go of all the frustration and anger and just started to weep. She wept for her son, being away from her all this time. She wept, knowing they were safe. She wept, knowing that life was going to violently change again for them all. And she wept, because deep inside no matter how much anger and resentment she felt, how angry she was, how betrayed she felt and how livid she was with their son being treated like this…

_She still felt something for Lion, despite it all._

All the while, The Emperor had been standing by a viewport, watching the outside and thinking about the past events. He knew Magnus was there, but said nothing. He knew his son would speak and tell him and update.

“He’s being checked over by one of my Apothecaries. Gabriel looks to be having a long road to recovery ahead of him.”

The Emperor stayed silent, only sighing. Magnus went quiet, unsure of what his father was going to say or do. He did add in one last statement before he left his father again, very softly, very quietly, as if he still wasn’t sure if it was true or it was just the delusions of a mother who missed her son dearly.

“He was in that forest for four years…”

By the time The Emperor turned back, Magnus was already gone, leaving him to his thoughts as the severity of the situation hit him with the force of a crashing ship. With how young the boy was, how long he was there…

He turned back to the port, staring back out at the open space and beyond. He couldn’t help but wonder at how much of his life was stolen by the actions of his son.

And why he felt so unsure about everything. Horus’ words echoing through his mind even as the _Bucephalus’_ viewports were covered by shutters and the ship entered the Warp.

**…**

At Damocles Spaceport, the people from all across Terra had gathered.

The finest and utmost top of the Imperial Elite were mingling amongst one another, a very festive mood in the air as the decorations swayed upon the tall spires surrounding them, the very air feeling more and more golden in the light of Terra’s sunset. 

Every single holo caster that could be spared for the occasion was put to use. Every single holo reporter in the entire sector had gathered and struggled to find a spot. 

Entire riots were quelled by the arbites and countless fights dispelled by the masses hoping to even get a mere glimpse at their Emperor.

This was to be the event of a lifetime, the marking of an entire era. The Emperor was returning to Terra with _all_ of the Primarchs in escort.

To say that the Imperium was going nuts was an understatement.

Some had been waiting for hours, many more for days, even more for the week since the announcement of the arrival had come.

And now… they would be rewarded.

“There they are!” A youth shouted, pointing at the sky as the first of the massive Gloriana class battleships was spotted entering low orbit, countless escorts teeming around it.

The _Vengeful Spirit_ descended will all due grace. Followed shortly thereafter by _Macragge's Honour_ and the _Endurance_ along with the _Conqueror_ and the _Photep_.

A roaring cheer emerged from the populace as many waved at their rulers' return to the throneworld. Off in the distance, orbital batteries fired blanks in salute and all of the bells on Terra began to ring in welcome. 

Many more Glorianas followed, the crowd cheering them all on.

But none of the ships got the reaction that the _Bucephalus_ received.

Once it’s golden hull was spotted, the crowd went completely berserk, the arbites desperately attempting to calm them even as a contingent of the Legiones Custodes deployed at the main landing pad of Damocles Spaceport, ready to guard their Emperor as he was welcomed home.

The holo reporters began their holo and vox casts, standing in front of their holo-recorders as they transmitted live across the entirety of the Imperium.

“We are standing here at Damocles spaceport-”

“-the Emperor and his sons are about to-”

“-where, after a glorious display of naval superiority by the flagships of the Primarchs-”

“-the _Bucephalus_ has reached low orbit, presumably soon, we shall see a transport-”

“-and there it is! The golden stormbird, no doubt carrying his Majesty, the Emperor and the Primarchs is swooping down, escorted by countless other vessels-

“-no doubt bound, we shall soon see our beloved Emperor walk upon Terra for the first time in almost two centuries-”

With bated breath, the crowd waited as the Stormbird swopped down at the Spaceport.

Only to immediately speed up again, taking flight with all of its escorts chasing it, desperately adjusting their course at the last minute as the Stormbird carrying the Imperial Family, flew overhead and directly for the Imperial Palace, leaving behind a dumbfound and disappointed people.

**...**

“...how… the fucking shit did you mess this up, Bradley!?” The holo reporter and his crew cringed, ready to off themselves for this blunder.

The leader amongst them, Bradley Keeler, was slamming his head into a nearby wal, shouting out obscenities at the top of his lungs. “Of all the fucking things to fuck up, we fuck up the worst of them!” He slammed his face into the wall once more, as he let out a wail of anguish. “How the shit could we confuse which spaceport the Emperor of Mankind and all of his sons would use to come back to Terra all together!? Of course they’re going to use Damocles spaceport and not the Lion’s Gate!”

“S-Sir, perhaps if we hurry, we can make it to-”

“Don’t you understand, Joris!? _We’re too far away_! Even if we were to run there as fast as we could, we’d get there to see the tail end of the damned parade! Most of the people there have been waiting for days! Why would we leave at the last possible second to come to such an event!?” Bradley leaned against the wall, sliding to the floor. “We’re so far away, we’re going to miss out on the story of a lifetime…”

The crew looked sheepish, some were despairing and were considering becoming servitors for this colossal failure.

“Everyone else here on Terra is going to record footage of this moment, everyone _but_ us that is! We’re going to be the laughing stock of the remembrancers and the holo net and our careers will be _ruined…_ ” Bradley buried his face in his hands, “Let’s face it. Might as well throw in the towel and give up. No one is ever going to give us work again after this blunder.”

_Clearing spaceport… Clearing spaceport…_

The crew stilled, listening to the vox above them calling for a clearing. They brightened up, setting up their equipment for recording. “Bradley! Bradley get up, we might be able to get something!”

The holo reporter looked up, sniffling and wiping the dust off his face. “Yeah, Custodes. As much as I would love to get footage of the Custodes, they’re nothing compared to the Imperial Family.”

“Chin up, aye? It’s still something.” Joris pointed out

“Oh yes, let us get more footage of the golden statues. As if there isn’t enough of that floating about everywhere in every single archive.” Bradley complained, “Euphrati is never going to let me live this down. Little Bradley the holocaster missed out on a huge story while his damned older sister is riding on a gloriana and being a damned remembrancer!” He sighed heavily and stood up, dusting off his uniform. “Fine. If this shall be my last holocasting, might as well be presentable for it.”

“Careful sir, starting to sound like a grot.”

“Shut the fuck up, Carl! Do not compare me to a grot!” He glared at the man. “At least my job involves more than holding a holocamera!”

“Well, at least I do research on my job.”

Bradley let out a noise that sounded as if he had choked on his own spit. “Fine… fine…” He straightened out his uniform. “Are we ready to film some golden toilets?”

_Incoming craft… Clear the spaceport…. Incoming craft…. Clear the spaceport…_

“Uh sir?” Joris began, looking up at the approaching craft.

“What?” Bradley asked. “Don’t tell me that after six years of palace duty, you’re afraid to film Custodes. Come on Joris!”

“Uhm… uh… no no… I just…”

“What?” Bradley snapped, his patience gone, “Spit it out dammit!”

Joris made a circling motion with his finger, causing Bradley to turn and look at just what was causing all the fus-

That was a stormbird.

That was a _Golden_ stormbird.

That was the _Emperor’s_ stormbird…

“Holy fucking Emperor’s balls and nutsack!” Bradley swore. “Joris! Joris! Joris!”

“What!?” Joris snapped back.

“Get- get me my eye augments! Holy shit, where are my eye augments!? I know I am seeing shit again-”

“Bradley calm the fuck down!”

“I can’t find them Joris-”

Joris walked over and shook his friend. “You don’t _have_ eye augments, remember!?”

“Oh shit…” Bradley murmured. “You’re right.”

A loud whine was heard behind them, as the stormbirds engines began to cycle and the heavy transport landed.

Bradely hurriedly made himself presentable and the holo cams began to record.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the Imperium, my name is Bradley Keeler.” He smiled. “We are here at the Lion’s Gate spaceport, where the Emperor along with the rest of the Primarchs have _just_ landed.” Using the screen on the front of the holocam, Bradley saw as the Custodes walked down the ramp and formed a protective corridor for their Emperor. “And here comes the Emperor-” Bradley began, seeing the massive form of the ruler of _all Mankind_ begin to descend the ramp. “-and as we can see, escorting him is the newly appointed Warmaster, Horus Lupercal along with-” Bradley swallowed, his nerves almost getting the better of him as more and more and _more_ Primarch’s kept coming down the ramp, followed by-

“And I believe we are seeing a baseline with the Primarchs, escorting what looks like a child-” Then, something in Bradley clicked. “-the child of the Lion, Lord of the first legion himself! Spitting image if I do say so myself! While we cannot see said Primarch amongst the procession, it is indeed a glorious sight nonetheless.”

The massive gate leading deeper into the Imperial Palace began to creak open, more Custodes appearing on the other side as it did so and the holo cam crew hastily moved to be slightly closer to the procession of the Imperial Family.

“We are now approaching his majesty.” Bradley swallowed such a massive lump he thought that when it hit his stomach that it would pull him to the ground. What would you ask such high and noble people if you had the sole chance to do so without a crowd drowning you out? “Your majesty, my Lord Warmaster.” He asked as he bowed slightly, before stretching out a vox receiver towards the Emperor and Horus, who looked at him with a bemused, and serious expression. “Any comments about your return here? Why the entire family? Is there any comment on the family’s silence for these last two Teran months?”

Horus leaned forward. “No comment.” Were his only words even as the Emperor himself kept walking, no words having been said on his part.

Bradley, desperate to get as much as he could out of this moment, stretched out the vox receiver towards all of the Primarchs that got close enough to be picked up by the vox, Bradley very much terrified of reaching beyond the Companions which walked by their side.

“-Primarch Leman, perhaps a comment-”

“Piss off.” The Primarch said, moving onward. “Got no time for reporters.”

“Of course, if you please excuse me your lordship.” Bradley hastily bowed out and stood before his holo cam even as the Imperial Family entered the gate, to what appeared to be-

Bradley’s eyes widened further.

“It appears as if the Emperor, along with the Primarchs are being greeted by the Lord Regent, Malcador the Sigilite himself, along with the Captain-General of the Legio Custodes, Constantin Valdor at the gates.”

The Emperor approached the Regent, the vox receivers unable to pick up their conversation, but… the Regent appeared rather… _angry_ , as the gates closed on them, leaving only a few Custodes just as the stormbird took off again and Bradley nearly collapsed.

Not even a minute later, countless craft began to arrive, all of them bearing reporter tags, and once their eyes began to meet Bradley’s, he smiled.

He would never again have to work so much as a day in his life. 

**...**

The Imperial Regent was furious beyond belief, standing stiff and the air cooling heavily wherever he stood. When the Emperor and his sons had come close enough, the regent did not waste any time to show his displeasure.

“As I recall, your last message sent to me was that your return to Terra was to be postponed. You gave no reason, you gave no notice afterwards and there have been no orders from you for _eight_ weeks.”

He hobbled closer and closer, his face getting more and more red as his nerves finally started to short out and he began losing his patience with the Emperor, pointing his staff at the man in question and shaking it with barely restrained anger.

“Do you have any idea how much work has piled up during your little standstill? The gears of your Imperium have stalled during your time sitting around and doing nothing! There are tithes that still are being paid, we still need a decision on the infrastructure reform you proposed before your last message, not to mention the reports of new planet compliance has reached a standstill! And who has to deal with all of this? I do. I have to work around all of this while you sat around and have done nothing!” The regent was furious, continuing to rant at the Emperor of Mankind.

“MAL, LISTEN. WE DID NOT SIT AROUND AND LOLLYGAG, A SUBJECT OF GREAT IMPORT HAD COME UP AND IT WAS IN DIRE NEED OF ATTENTION. AS YOU KNOW, YOU SENT ME THE VIDS AND AS A FAMILY, WE HAD TO ADDRESS IT. WHILE IT MAY NOT HAVE GONE AS SMOOTHLY AS I HAD HOPED, THERE WAS STILL MUCH TO BE LEARNED.” The Emperor answered smoothly.

Malcador paused, his fury was still bubbling within, he did ask, “What vids? I never sent you any vids. I send all of our documents via dataslate and, at worst, on plastek flimsies.”

The Emperor scoffed, “COME NOW, MAL. ENOUGH OF THE JESTING, I HAVE HAD MORE THAN ENOUGH JESTS AND INSUBORDINATION FOR ONE LIFETIME THESE PAST FEW WEEKS.”

“I have not sent you any vids. I sent over my latest report in preparation for your imminent arrival. Then you sent me a missive that you will be delaying that and left me to care for an entire Imperium while you sat around and did nothing! Countless people on countless planets with countless leaders all wanting my attention-”

“ENOUGH, MAL! YOU SET ME THE VIDS! YOU SENT ME THE VIDS OF THE FUTURE, YOU STARTED ALL OF THIS, YOU WERE THE ONE TO STOP ME FROM COMING TO TERRA AND I WILL NOT STAND HERE AND LET YOU SHOUT ME DOWN LIKE SOME INSOLENT CHILD LIKE ALIVIA ALWAYS DID!”

“Oh, so this is about her again!” He scoffed. “Please, be my guest and fetch her Revelation, she might just be of help explaining to me why you _razed Nuceria_.”

“THAT IS COMPLEX. I WILL NOT STAND FOR YOU TO BELITTLE ME AND MY DECISIONS IN FRONT OF MY PRIMARCHS-”

“Oh I am sorry, _your majesty,_ if I were to have received this information, I could have kept the gears going. Perhaps even have welcomed you back here with open arms.” He looked past the Emperor. “And not have to resort to certain organizations of this Imperium to remain informed about the existence of your _Grandchildren!”_

“I WAS NOT EVEN AWARE THEY EXISTED UNTIL DAYS AGO. DON’T TRY AND MAKE ME OUT TO BE THE BAD GUY RIGHT NOW, I HAVE HAD ENOUGH OF EVERYONE POINTING THEIR FINGERS AT ME AND BLAMING ME FOR EVERYTHING THAT GOES WRONG!”

“Ohoho, enough was it? Is that why you are back here with all of them Revelation? What of Angron and Lion? Slumbering peacefully are they? Did you finally push and bend where you shouldn’t have?”

“THAT WAS SETTLED. I’M HERE TO GET MY SHIP REPAIRED AND TO FINALLY GET THESE ISSUES RESOLVED. NOTHING MORE, NOTHING LESS.”

Malcador looked past the Emperor and directly at Horus who was violently shaking his head, causing Malcador to frown even harder as one of his eyes development a nervous twitch.

“Lord Warmaster.” Malcador began, his voice filled with false warmth. “Would you perhaps care to explain your father’s plan then? Seeing as the Emperor is indisposed with a serious bout of ‘shit to the brain’ syndrome?”

“DON’T YOU DARE. I AM FULLY CAPABLE OF TELLING MY PLANS!”

Horus rolled his eyes, “Well, it started like this…” He paused, “actually, you might want to sit down for this.”

**…  
** _30 minutes later  
_ **...**

“...Really.” The Sigillite had been silent during the entire explanation. He was silent during the first part, then the other, he was silent during the appearance of the chest, silent during the razing of Nuceria and finally the fly by of Caliban. “This happened?”

“As surely as the sun shines, Sigillite.” Horus sat back, having explained much in a short amount of time. “I am confused about the first part as well, you denied sending Father the vids. I only wish I knew who did.”

“A mystery for another day, brother.” Magnus muttered, done with the conversation and wanting to get away from everyone. Desperately.

Malcador sat in the chair of the drawing room they were in, tapping his staff against the lush carpet floor, thinking it all over, one tick at a time.

“Revelation.” He finally spoke. “You need help.”

“THAT IS WHY I AM HERE MAL, I REQUIRE YOUR-”

“I didn’t say _my_ help, you need _her_ help if you are to-”

“NO. NO I DO NOT NEED HER HELP, MAL! I HAVE DONE FINE FOR THESE LAST FIVE THOUSAND YEARS! I AM FINE KEEPING HER ON MOLECH WHERE SHE IS SAFE AND NOTHING BAD IS HAPPENING TO HER! I DON’T NEED HER TO CODDLE ME OR- OR ANY OF THAT! I AM FINE, I AM DOING WHAT IS RIGHT- I AM RIGHT! I’VE ALWAYS BEEN RIGHT! IF I WASN’T, WOULD ANY OF YOU BE FOLLOWING ME AT THIS POINT!?” The Emperor snapped, standing and towering over Malcador, his golden persona taking full charge.

Malcador merely continued tapping his staff on the floor. “Almost four gone now.” He spoke as he matched the Emperor’s gaze, not backing off for even a second. “Two gone, with almost another two to join them, Revelation.” Malcador tilted his head, letting out a tired sigh. “If that isn’t a sign, combined with the fact that if time had continued unchanged, that we would all be dead within a decade, I sure as shit don’t know what is.”

He flinched, “I… I MADE- NO I DON’T MAKE- BUT I… I DID. I DID WHAT WAS RIGHT. I DID IT ALL, I MADE THE RIGHT- NO I MADE THE WRONG- RIGHT…” He roared and decimated a nearby wall. “I DID WHAT WAS NECESSARY!”

“Then confess!” Malcador gestured with open arms. “You need _her_ and you need _that_ part of-”

“ALL OF YOU. OUT.” The Emperor suddenly glared at the Primarchs, eyes completely golden.

The Primarchs quickly stood, looking to Malcador, the only sane one in the room at the moment.

The regent waved them off, “Go. I have had your apartments readied.”

They booked it out of the drawing room, right as some warmasons came by to begin repairing the decimated wall. Selena and Gabriel having long since already been sent to the Lion’s apartments.

“Revelation.” Malcador sighed, feeling the weight of his old friend's stubbornness upon his shoulders again. “It is a repeat of M3 New York all over again.” He scratched at his short hair beneath his head, wispier and thinner by the day. He was far _far_ passed the time to die and be reborn with his memories intact. His looks and powers identical…

And he was postponing it all for this… this…  
  
“You are acting as if you are going through a divorce. Not just with her, but yourself.”

“THIS IS NOTHING LIKE NEW YORK! SHE WAS BEING DIFFICULT AND REFUSED TO SEE OUR WAY.”

“I agree with you there actually. This is _nothing_ like New York, at least back then, you still had your humanity to keep you grounded!”

“ **I AM HUMAN!** ”

“NO YOU ARE NOT!” Malcador now shouted in return, standing to his full height, looking up at the Emperor, staring him directly into his golden eyes, not allowing the fear to cloud his judgement. “Not with the way you behave! Like some sort of psychopath! You toy with the feelings of what you still truly consider your own children, of who you convinced even _me_ that they are your children! Have you gone insane in forgetting what they are to you? Or are they so to you only in word?” 

“THEY ARE MY CHILDREN! THEY’RE OUR CHILDREN, MINE AND HERS! THEY'RE AS MUCH HERS AS THEY ARE MINE! BLOOD AND MIND! I AM NOT SOME PSYCHOPATH AS YOU PROPOSE- I AM THEIR FATHER! EVERYTHING I DO FOR HER, FOR THEM IS RIGHT!”

Malcador’s thought process stopped.

“...blood and mind?”

“...I… I…” He cooled down finally, his golden persona falling away as he slumped in place, a great weight finally off his shoulders. One of many.

“Revelation…” Malcador starred in disbelief. “Does she know?” He asked in desperation. “Did you at the very least tell her?”

He attempted to speak, but the words kept failing him. On his seventh try did he speak, “I haven’t spoken to her in thousands of years, Mal.”

“So… that is why they are all men.” Malcador shook his head. “It had nothing to do with the formative process. Because there was _no_ formative process. They started out as embryos. Embryos from between you and…” Malcador trailed off.

“Her.” He confirmed, sighing and sounding as if there were thousands of troubles sitting atop him.

“Erda will be disappointed, that is for sure.” Malcador sighed, now leaning on his staff, feeling every bit of his old bone and muscle that were barely keeping him up.

“I could care less what the harpy wants.” Sitting down once more, unable to stand much longer. “I am not wrong. I can’t be wrong, Mal.”

Malcador shook his head. “It’s not that I care about that, Revelation. And it’s not as if I can try harder.” Malcador looked at his friend. “But you need that part of you back. And you need her. Without that, you will lose them.” Malcador groaned slightly as he began to walk. “I am done trying to convince you.” He walked to the grand door on the end of the drawing room, it being opened for him by the Custodes, showing the hall beyond, lit with the last rays of sunlight, causing the lumens above to flicker on. “Go rest. Think on this. We shall convene tomorrow for the details and how to proceed.”

He continued walking, the tapping of his staff now echoing from the marble floor as he did so. His mind already working on how to plant certain transports, carrying certain information, on a certain world.


	18. Meanwhile 2 - In which we take a break, something is regained and people are doing things again

**...  
** **000.M31 - Terra,** **_The Imperial Palace, the Emperor’s Apartments  
_ ** **...**

Captain-General Constantin Valdor was standing guard in the very late hours of the Palace’s night cycle. His Emperor and Master peacefully asleep, as all the while Constantin kept a watch inside his helmet's HUD for any news which he would relay to the Emperor upon his awakening, or if need be, even awaken his Master Himself if the news bore the need of such urgency.

That was the moment he heard something.

**“FUUUUU-”**

The cry of anger was so strong that even he, along with the other seven Companions stationed alongside him, simply froze. For the first time in a very long time, a time most couldn’t recall, they felt as if they didn’t know what to do. Usually they had a plan for everything, not feeling fear or apprehension in so long… But now, they were unable to comprehend what was going on anymore.

“That… that couldn’t have been-”

The Companion was interrupted from speaking further by extremely loud shouting coming from inside the Emperor’s Apartments.

**“FUCK! I WAS A FUCKING MORON! HOW COULD I HAVE BEEN SUCH A BACKWARDS FUCKING IDIOT!”**

“Um… should we investigate?” Asked another Companion.

They then heard what sounded like furniture being smashed, and priceless artifacts being shattered even as the very walls around them trembled.

“Uh… we should most likely allow for the Emperor to cool down a bit first.” Said Valdor in response before more shouting came from the Apartments, making the Companions shiver in response.

**“FUCKING BULLSHIT, EIGHT WEEKS OF HELL AND CRAP FOR ALMOST FUCKING NOTHING! I COULD HAVE BEEN DOING LITERALLY ANYTHING ELSE MORE PRODUCTIVE THAN THAT HORRIBLE EXCUSE OF A FAMILY BONDING SESSION!”**

“Perhaps the Sigillite is needed here… or, at the very least, the Warmaster.” Further spoke Valdor as the other Companions nodded furiously in response. 

Suddenly, something smashed against the doors to the Apartments, so hard it almost drove the massive golden doors clean off of their hinges.

“Perhaps we should all depart and search for them… with haste…”

With that said, all of the present Custodes ran as fast as their legs could carry them.

**…** **  
****Inside of the Emperor’s Apartments**   
...

**“I WAS SUCH A GOLDEN LOVING EMPTY HEADED OAF I EVEN MANAGED TO FORGET THAT WHILE I DISCARDED MY HUMANITY, MY SONS DID NOT! WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK WAS I THINKING?”**

The Emperor blindly stumbled around in his half naked form, using only the massive sheet from his bed to cover himself, which incidentally, made him unaware of his own actions even more.

**“I SHOULD HAVE SEEN THAT LORGAR WORSHIPING ME AS A GOD AND REFUSING TO STOP, EVEN AFTER I SCOLDED HIM MULTIPLE FUCKING TIMES, THAT HE WAS UNDER THE INFLUENCE OF THOSE SHITRIDDEN GALACTIC TUMORS!”**

The Emperor stumbled into a delicate nightstand, made in the 19th century upon ancient Terra. It promptly crumbled into nothing.

**“KONRAD HAS SUCH A FUCKED UP SENSE OF JUSTICE AND CRAPPY SONS HE MAKES THE 41st MILLENNIUMS LEX IMPERIALIS AND ARBITRATORS LOOK GOOD! WHY THE FUCK DIDN’T I DO ANYTHING THE SECOND I NOTICED? IN FACT, WHY DIDN’T I STOP ANGRON OR PERTURABO FROM DECIMATING THEIR OWN SONS!? SERIOUSLY! WHO THE FUCK SEES THAT AND GOES: YEAH, THAT’S NORMAL, VERY HEALTHY BEHAVIOR ALRIGHT! NOTHING WRONG HERE. BULLSHIT! ”**

He was pacing so much now that the priceless Persian carpet beneath his feet was beginning to be worn down into nothing. The sheet dragging behind him wrapping around his legs and arms.

**“IF I GAVE PERTURABO SOMETHING TO BUILD ON OCCASION INSTEAD OF ONLY TELLING HIM TO BE THE FUCKING KOOL-AID GUY AND SMASH DOWN WALLS NOT TO MENTION FIX THE FACT THAT THE EYE OF TERROR WAS FUCKING LOOKING AT HIM EARLIER! PERHAPS HE WOULDN’T BE THE MASSIVE FUCK UP THAT HE IS RIGHT NOW!”**

He was tangled up in the sheet at this point, waving his arms about to get untangled and ended up slamming down his fists upon his work desk. An intricate gift made in the days of the renaissance. It cracked, and then proceeded to fold in two.

**“ANGRON ANGRON ANGRON! IF I HELPED WITH HIS REBELLION INSTEAD OF JUST LEAVING HIM ALONE FOR HIS SONS TO HANDLE, MAYBE JUST MAYBE HIS WIFE TO BE WOULD STILL BE ALIVE, AND HE WOULDN’T BE SO BALLS TO THE WALLS CONSTANTLY PISSED OFF! NOT TO MENTION THE DOZENS OF HIS OFFICERS THAT WOULDN’T HAVE DIED!”**

The stomping of His feet was so powerful now that some delicate Ming dynasty vases, given to him personally so long ago by the long dead Emperors of ancient China, fell from their shelves and broke upon the floor, shattering into hundreds of tiny pieces. Beautifully crafted glass and crystal creations from his travels throughout the galaxy during the Golden age shattered on the ground with only a faded and worn out Hutton Orbital mug surviving the great shattering.

 **“OR JUST** **_MAYBE_ ** **, IF I TOOK SOME FUCKING TIME OUT OF MY “OH SO TIGHT I COULD CUT MY BALLS OFF WITH MY POWER PANTS!” TIGHT SCHEDULE I COULD HAVE LOOKED AT MORTARION’S BREATHING ISSUES AND FIXED HIM UP MENTALLY AS WELL! THEN MAYBE HE WOULDN’T HATE XENOS TO SUCH A PASSION THAT HE STILL FUCKING USES RAD WEAPONS!”**

Whilst He shouted, He put His hands on an armor displayed from ancient gothic Germany. A full suit of plate. A beauty never to be crafted again. He, completely by accident, crushed it into a tiny ball of steel that he just happened to send flying through his room to crash into the only two paintings he was able to salvage from Gustav Klimt.

**“IF I WASN’T SO FAR UP MY OWN ‘MUST SAVE HUMANITY AT ALL COSTS!’ ASS, PERHAPS I WOULD HAVE NOTICED JUST HOW FAR LION IS UP HIS OWN! SERIOUSLY! I NEED TO TEACH THAT FUCKER ‘HOW TO BEHAVE AROUND OTHER PEOPLE 101!’ JUST TO TEACH THE GOLDEN SHIT NUGGET SOME HUMILITY! THEN MAYBE HIS SON WOULDN’T HAVE THE ISSUES HE HAS! I SWEAR ON MY GOLDEN SELF I SHOULD HAVE BURNED THAT ENTIRE FUCKING FOREST DOWN TO THE GROUND ONCE I GOT MY GRANDSON OUT OF IT! AND WHILE AT THAT, THROW A COPY AT ROGALS FACE SO FUCKING HARD IT SMASHES ANY FORTRESS HE CAN BUILD!”**

As He stumbled around, He now knocked into a full sized stuffed ancient Terran wolf. Captured so long ago. It was now torn to shreds under the Emperor’s unbreakable stride.

**“WOLF THIS! AND WOLF FUCKING THAT! WOLFWOLFWOLFWOLF! I SWEAR THAT ONCE I GET OUT OF HERE I AM GOING TO GO TO FENRIS AND BITCHSMACK EVERY. SINGLE. WOLF PRIEST UNTIL THEY REALISE JUST HOW BIG BUNCH OF HYPOCRITICAL BITCHES THEY ARE BEING! ALONG WITH THAT I NEED TO TAKE RUSS TO THE FUCKING DENTIST AND HAVE HIS CANINES SHORTENED AND TAIL CUT CLEAN OFF! HIM ACTING LIKE AN ACTUAL WOLF IS NOT ONLY IMPRACTICAL IT'S ALSO HUMILIATING TO ME AS ANYTHING IN THIS GALAXY! AND WHILE I AM AT THAT I NEED TO TEACH BIG RED ‘HOW NOT TO ATTRACT THE BIGGEST PIECE OF SHIT TUMOR OF THE WARP, FOR DUMMIES EDITION!’ THEN MAKE THOUSANDS OF COPIES AND THROW IT AT EVERY. SINGLE. ONE OF HIS GENE-SONS!”**

As He finally came to a halt in the middle of His now destroyed Apartments, pulling the sheet off of His face finally and seeing the line of destruction, He realised something.

“Damn! Did that feel fucking good!”

Then the doors to his Apartments opened and in strode Malcador the Sigillite. To say his reaction to the situation was that of shock would be the understatement of the Millennia. As he strode into the debris of the completely irreplaceable artifacts which once adorned the room he came to a stop before a strangely grinning Emperor covered in a ruffled up bedsheet and asked in a careful tone, “Revelation... this… are you well?” He spoke with eyes darting from the Emperor to the destruction and back, many times.

“Am I well?” The Emperor responded before letting out such a heartfelt and lovely chuckle that even the Custodes escorting Malcador felt a smile tugging at their lips. “Ah fuck no! I feel shittier than I was after World War one and almost abandoned my duties! Thankfully, not as shitty as I was during the Age of Strife, so, silver linings.”

Just like that the smiles were gone, replaced by looks of worry for their Master.

“But that’s besides the point!” Further said the Emperor, even as He clasped a massive arm around Malcador's small figure and proceeded to walk out of his Apartments. “Let us go rouse my sons! I have a lot of explaining to do! And perhaps…” He paused, a hiss of air escaping him, “...some smacking. And maybe snacking? I feel hungry right now. Soul fusions do tend to do that to a person I suppose.” Said the Emperor as he now folded the massive bed sheet to form a makeshift toga.

“But… Your Apartments, Revelation, all of your ancient momentos-” Malcador sputtered, his eyes on the destroyed remains of all of the gifts from times past before being cut off by another smile from his Liege; this one the biggest he had ever seen from his ancient friend.

“Merely objects Malcador. Objects which have no true meaning to me anymore. No, the things which mean the most to me are around me at this very moment.”

“Um... My Lord, you couldn’t possibly mean-”

“Yup! You, Constantin over there and my sons! Well, admittedly some of them are going to require some work… we can work it out on the way there! Not to mention a couple other missing people from our group, but everything should arrive in all due time. Oh! And make sure to send a message and invite my sons’ families to the Badab Sector. I have some great plans I want to execute, probably build a holiday palace, not to mention I want to meet everyone!”

The Master of Mankind began to whistle what sounded like a merry tune, half naked as he began to stride down the gilded halls of the Imperial Palace, Constantin and Malcador stood perfectly still, absolutely gobsmacked at the Emperor’s words. The former would never admit it, but he was even feeling his heart thump with as of yet, unknown joy. 

Somewhere in all of this, Constantin finally managed to find his voice and slowly spoke.

“What just happened?”

Malcador, along with the rest of the present Custodes, then picked up their collective jaws before a tiny smile appeared on the Sigillite’s old and tired face. “I can’t believe I am saying this but… he took my advice to heart.” With that, the halls were soon filled with the sound of Malcador’s staff gently tapping against the marble floor as he walked after his Liege, and for the first time in centuries, felt the currents of the warp shape into a different path.

“Maybe now he can actually do his damn job without making everyone want to kill him.”

**...**

Lorgar Aurelian was sleeping peacefully in his apartments in the palace when a rather loud knock on his door managed to wake him up. “Ughhh… at this early hour… I… I don’t even…”

He continued to grumble lightly as he got up and made his way toward the door, quickly fixing his face from one of annoyance to indifference, as to be more welcoming toward whoever had awoken him. Surely, whoever it was that was knocking on his door at this hour must have had something of dire importance to say. Just as he was about to reach for the handle, the door smashed open and there, on the other side, stood his father, smiling like an absolute maniac.

Lorgar took a moment to blink blearily up at his father, put off slightly at the sight of his Father grinning like he was. When was the last time his Father smiled like that? “Father… good morning…? What are you- Why are you naked.” His father cut him off.

“Greetings Lorgar! Not naked, I’m wearing a sheet. Terribly sorry about awakening you so early by the way.” The Emperor interjected in such a friendly and warm tone that Lorgar felt his knees go weak.

“I uh, no, not at all father, please, come in?” Lorgar stepped aside as his Father walked past him and into his Apartments. Sure enough, he did see the Emperor’s improvised clothing of what looked to be a golden satin sheet formed into a toga. Lorgar suspected that his Father was most likely ill. He did have a strange dream, a dream of his father cursing and destroying all in his path, strangely enough. He chalked it up to his awakened powers giving him another unneeded vision, but perhaps there must be some truth? Perhaps his Father truly was sick and needed something?

“Can I offer you some tea perhaps Father? Or would you like me to call the serfs for something else?” Asked Lorgar tentatively as he sat down on a massive couch, his Father sitting down next to him, causing him to go on edge just enough to make the Emperor frown slightly before plastering another smile on his face.

“Thank you son, but no. I came to apologize.”

Lorgar felt his mind come to a sudden halt. It was as if everything in the universe stopped making sense at that moment. “I’m sorry, but what? You burned down a forest with Magnus only days ago, raged and stormed your way back to the palace and screamed at Malcador of all people. What happened in the past eight hours to cause this sudden change in you?” He asked in a moment of disbelief, leaning away from his father just a hair, eyes squinting as if he was trying to find something attached to his Father, making him do something like this.

The Emperor’s smile transformed into one of sadness as he further explained.

“I am sorry about how I treated you, I am especially sorry about Monarchia… I know it is far too late for it, and I cannot do anything about it now but… I still love you my son. And I want you to know that I only did what I did because I wanted to protect and teach you a lesson… I just literally did not possess the humanity to understand how it would truly affect you. It is only now did I truly reflect on my mistakes of the past and felt the need to come to you for… forgiveness.”

Lorgar continued just staring at Him in silence, eyes widening just a fraction. He felt a rush of memories of those dark days, those times he actually believed his Father wanted to hurt him, how he thought that Roboute hated him in that moment and the hurt that came from the days of healing. He had been waiting for the day that his Father would even say anything about that, truly apologize and make amends for his actions. For a time, he felt as if his Father never would actually apologize and would continue to hurt him and others around Him. Then the vids happened, and now?

Now he had his Father dressed in a sheet, looking like He fought against an army in the time He was away from everyone and now was apologizing to him, admitting that He was wrong! Of course, He said He wanted to teach him, and technically wasn’t really sorry, but He was sorry for how He went about it… He was sorry for hurting him.

He said the only thing he could possibly think of at the moment… he forgave his Father. “I… I… accept your apology... Father.”

He wanted to forgive his Father, the man he worshipped as a God and later as a Father. He still felt some love for the Emperor, a love he thought could have been for Kor Pharon in his moments of weakness, but now was being shown by the man who gave him life. Deep inside, he simply wanted something from his Father, something to just address the hurt between them all.

The Emperor’s face was graced by a massive smile, a smile which brought a warmth to his hearts that Lorgar had once felt before all went so dark. The warmth was back, and there was a chance it would stay this time. But if that was a surprise, it was nothing compared to what happened next.

The Emperor leaned over... and _hugged_ him.

A full warm hug, so tight that Lorgar could almost feel his breath escaping him, but not uncomfortable to the point where he could not breathe. He followed his instincts and hugged back, a tear running unconsciously from his eye as that the full force of emotions and meaning of the moment finally hit him, like a dam finally breaking after cracking for many years.

All he ever wanted was his Father to just love him. Perhaps those eight weeks with everyone weren’t really that bad in hindsight…

“Wai- wait.” Lorgar finally began to sputter, able to finally push past the mass amounts of charisma that the Emperor was putting out. “I would know that feeling anywhere!” Lorgar backed off, and scrambled to the other side of the couch. “That is your charisma aura! I thought you lost it!?”

“Oh. That came back. Sorry, sorry, didn’t mean that part.”

“I can see that, and it is fucking creeping the shit out of me now that I know how you feel without it!” Lorgar nearly screamed in shock. “What- what the fuck caused this!? No- no! I can’t forgive you for all the bullshit over a simple talk! What is this!? A cheesy Colchisian holonovela!?”

“To be fair, that is a very popular storyline. Right next to Space Marine finds a loved one, that is.”

“It shouldn’t! It’s a terrible plot line- and you know what back to what I was saying- do you really think that we have a single heart to heart conversation that fixes all of our problems!? We spent days trying to get away from you and each other and now we are cramped up in our apartments, **for Sol’s sake!** ”

“Oh, but you have plenty of space!” The Emperor gestured with his arms, showing the grand scale of Lorgar’s apartment.

“It doesn’t help when you share a thin wall with the Warmaster who has been, SPENDING THE ENTIRE NIGHT PLANNING THE GREAT CRUSADE!” Lorgar shouted, directed at one of the walls.

“Me answering you does not prove your point!” Horus screamed from the other side of the wall. “I’m just busy getting the whole ‘GREAT CRUSADE’ back on its feet after we spent eight weeks sitting around and watching holovids! Stop complaining, at least you don’t share a wall with **Magnus** of all people!”

“Oh, you can go to the ninth Prosperan hell Horus!” Magnus screamed through the walls, loud enough that even Lorgar and the Emperor could hear. “I assure you, I only started listening in when I heard that Father was coming through here! You know, because he glows through the warp like he was the fracking sun of all things!”

“Woah, woah boys.” The Emperor spoke in a warm tone. “Off to an early start, and while I love to see that, can we just keep it down? Maybe have some tea and snacks together?”

“You’re not helping Father.” Horus called out from behind the wall. “Also, did I hear it right? Are you naked in there?”

“Why are you naked, Father?” Vulkan called out from the other wall.

“Forget about Father using a sheet for clothing!” Lorgar shouted back. “Let’s talk about the fact that all of _my_ snacks have been stolen by Corvus!”

Corvus passed by the two, carrying an armload of snacks, not even bothering to hide. “Not my fault you keep all the best snacks in the palace in your apartments.” He spoke through a mouthful of dried suidae flavoured snacks.

“Alright boys, how about we just slow this down and have a nice calm talk and… how many of you exactly are listening in? Because I have this strange feeling that there might be quite a few.” The Emperor proposed even as he looked around, His mind stretched through the warp, looking for the familiar signatures of His sons.

The door to Lorgar’s apartments slammed open, revealing Mortarion, Ferrus along with Sanguinius and Fulgrim, the latter of which looked particularly disheveled, still waking up.

“What even is sleep?” Sanguinius grumbled.

The door opposite of Lorgar opened, revealing Roboute holding a handful of data-slates. “You were getting sleep? I was getting a head start on correcting the logistical network for some light work before jumping into the heavy work of Imperial Infrastructure.”

“You were also watching vids of Aegidius.” Jaghatai commented as he came striding by even as Roboute gave him an incredulous look, prompting the Khan to explain. “You emit certain noises while watching your son do things that you consider cute.” Roboute made a face saying that he understood.

Magnus sputtered from his room, “What, is everyone just having a party in Lorgar’s room-? No, no sorry, hun. Family stuff is going on-”

“Magnus! Are you psychically contacting someone?” The Emperor demanded from his seat in Lorgar’s room even as nearby, Corvus continued to munch on Lorgar’s snacks.

“Yes! I’m in the middle of a call right now so-”

“Must be a dirty call if I was able to hear you say ‘ _Avari no, you dirty girl, I can’t possibly-_ ’” Horus jested as Magnus let out a scream of frustration.

Another door slammed open, and Leman’s howling voice was soon heard. “Is there a wolfin 'party goin’ on that I wasn’t invited to?” He asked even as three scantily clad ladies ran from his apartments and down the hall, giggling as they went, dodging all of the Primarchs as the Wolf King himself came out of his apartments behind them. “Oi shite.” He swore. “If there are this many of you, why did nobody bloody tell me?” 

“Leman.” Mortarion nodded at him. “Why are you naked?”

“Wot?” He looked down at his naked form and laughed. “Well yer’ see Morty. I dunno how much you know about girls, especially not Terran born nobles, but they are _frisky_ and when things get down to business-”

“No-no!” Fulgrim intervened. “We do not require the details of your acts of copulation, Leman!” Fulgrim chided, trying to smooth out his sleep ruffled hair.

“Thank you!” Magnus, again.

“Why?” Leman asked. “Father’s gone naked, why can’t I?”

“Do you _really_ want to follow Father’s lead in that regard?” Horus asked, now opening the doors to his apartments, knowing he wasn’t going to get any more work done.

“Father is not the best role model, nor the best Father in the galaxy.” Corvus sniped at the Emperor, still munching while Lorgar was attempting to wrestle away his snacks.

“Well, not that it matters much.” Mortarion piped up. “But since we are all gathered in this lovely grox-manure of a meeting in Lorgar’s room, didn’t we try to spend at _least_ a day trying to get as far away as we could from each other?” He spoke in a sour tone. “And has anyone seen Konrad? I can’t find him.”

“I can answer that one.” The Emperor smiled. “Since we have arrived back on Terra, he has attempted to assassinate Lion no less than six times.”

Mortarion shrugged, “Makes sense.” He then turned away to leave Lorgar’s room. “I’m leaving. I’d rather try to sleep than deal with all of you again.”

“Wait, hold on! Don’t you want to hear about why I’m all happy and better?” The Emperor asked, hoping against all odds that Mortarion wouldn’t leave and cause a chain reaction of others leaving as well.

“I could not care in the slightest.” Mortarion quickly snapped back, “I did not spend all that time trying to get away from you and everyone else to get roped into a hug session and talk about our _feelings_.” He shuddered, “I just want to get away from you and everyone else. Good. Night.”

“Isn’t it…” Horus thought a bit. “...three in the morning?”

“I give no fucks.” Mortarion put his arms up in the air. “Absolutely zero! And besides, it's not as if we are all gathered, where are Perturabo and Rogal-”

“I am present.” The echoing voice of Rogal Dorn came from somewhere.

Mortarion sputtered. “Of course you damn well are, where?”

The sudden noise of an incoming object, hurtling through the air, alerted all of the present family to Lorgar’s fireplace, where, after a few more seconds, Rogal’s armoured form appeared. “Good morning. Father, brothers.” He dusted off his armour, showing just how well polished it was, despite the heavy labor. “I am now, truly, present.”

“Did you just come in from my chimney…? That doesn’t explain where Perturabo-”

A hidden wall in Lorgar’s room slid open, revealing the Lord of Iron in all his armoured glory as he strode out. “What?”

“Ok!” Lorgar shouted, clapping his hands together in one sharp clap.. “Can we talk about the fact of how somehow, every single one of you has access to my room in other ways than through my front door?”

“Implying we all don’t have the same amount of exits in our own rooms…” Roboute muttered to himself, going back to work.

“Alright.” Lorgar swore. “You all want to play!? We’re gonna play!” He turned sharply towards the Emperor. “Father! How about you explain to us all how in the living hell you got your charisma back!?”

“Shit! He’s going to explain something!” Mortarion turned and tried to escape the room, followed by Fulgrim and Ferrus who were done with these shenanigans.

“No! I want to know!” Magnus phased through the wall, pointedly ignoring Leman who was now using a nearby blanket to cover his nude form as he was sharing snacks with Corvus. “Please tell me what happened to you!”

The Emperor got an apprehensive look on his face as he spoke. “Oh, it’s absolutely nothing to worry about now! I have it back now, that is all that matters.”

This caused Mortarion, Fulgrim and Ferrus to violently stop and turn in their tracks.

“What?” They all echoed at the same exact time.

“And this process went...smoothly?” Asked Lorgar a bit worried about his father. Magnus could be heard muttering a swear and a ‘doubt it’.

“As smooth as can be! It was all just fine! Completely under… control.” The Emperor said with a strained smile.

**...  
Earlier that night  
** **...**

Terra’s night cycle had just overcome the Palace after He managed to just barely fend off Malcador from ripping out his throat and then proceeded to get the lesson of a lifetime from the very same person. And after that heavy of a revelation, there wasn’t much to do…

He wandered the halls of his palace for about an hour or so, stopping now and then to take a look at something or respond to the greetings of someone working in the palace.

But eventually, his legs carried him to his apartments. Where, after not bothering with a shower, and shooing off Constantin’s worries for the state of both His mental health and the fact that He had not eaten or drank anything since he had returned, He crawled into bed.

Sleep did not come for the Master of Mankind. As He laid there in his luxurious bed, His naked body covered in golden silk sheets His mind could only dwell on one thought after having watched so many vids with His children and having to go off and fix the mistakes He and His sons had made, along with helping a few of grandchildren... did the Master of Mankind stop and really think about it all...

“I was not wrong. Perhaps I was a bad Father, but I’m not wrong.” Or more specifically, “...how bad of a Father have I been?”

There was only one problem to that thought, making him toss and turn on His bed as he tried to figure out this predicament.

“I… don’t know. If I was a bad Father, then that would mean I did something wrong. That I was wrong.”

When the Emperor created the twenty Primarchs, He did more than just give them each a part of their genetic material; He imbued them all with a part of his humanity. But there is one emotion which He gave up long before that.

His compassion.

“It is a setback. It was necessary to get rid of it if I was going to survive the Fall, it was necessary to survive Terra, it was a crucial part to the founding of the Imperium and the launch of the Great Crusade.” It is what he thought when He had first cast _it_ out. He thought back to when he had grabbed that part of his soul and began to siphon it out into the bowels of the Warp, only days after the Great Fall had begun.

However, after sitting down with His Sons and seeing not only what would occur to his future self and the Imperium, to His Grandchildren as well, not to mention the bollocking He had received from Malcador… The Emperor was beginning to have some serious second thoughts about that particular choice. It was something He hated doing, looking at his past actions and admitting He may have done wrong.

He could take losing friends, He could take splitting his soul apart for the greater good of it all, He could even take cutting losses… Hell, He could even take watching humanity’s stupidity in letting the Great Fall even occur in the first place…

But admitting He was wrong? He’d sooner willingly become the God of humanity than admit he was wrong about anything.

...come to think of it, perhaps that is where Magnus and Fulgrim got their insane amounts of pride from. She had never been very prideful, very frugal at times...

Yet even still, His greatest weakness was His own pride. Pride that had grown for over forty thousand years where His actions guided humanity to where they eventually would land. It was the one part of Himself the shamans had overlooked, what with their constant screaming and screeching at Him to take actions for every little thing at every second of every day.

Out of sheer curiosity, the Master of Mankind allowed His mind to reach out into the bowels of the Warp. Wondering if He would still find that particular part of His long since discarded soul.

“Bingo.”

There it was.

The ethereal and unmistakable form of a soul. Formless and without guidance. Simply existing as it did in the warp. The shard’s power radiating as hot as a star to anything that even remotely got close.

But the Emperor could swear on His life, that He saw it _turn_ to Him.

“ _Ah! There you are at last!_ ”

It took the Emperor a second to realise that it was in fact the shard that was the one speaking to Him. “How… How can You speak? You are merely the manifestation of My compassion.”

The Shard let out what sounded to the Emperor like an echoing chuckle. _“Our compassion over the course of over forty millennia grew to such a size it could be a being of its own! Therefore…”_ The formless mass did what looked like a flip? _“Tadaaa! I was ‘born’ once you cast me out from yourself!”_

“I… I did not truly realise how large my compassion really was. I wonder how much of my soul was composed of compassion alone…” The Emperor trailed off as He thought back to His actions past the exorcism of His compassion to all the way to now. “Wait. Does that mean I have been akin to something of a colossal douchebag over the last few centuries?”

_“Oh. You hahahahave no idea! You bitter, spiteful, hypocritical man! Let us not forget the fact that as time went on, more and more of yourself ebbed away due to this wound you inflicted upon yourself.”_

The Emperor’s psychic manifestation just stood there for a moment, taking it all in. It certainly answered His question earlier. “...so I became a dick?”

 _“The biggest dick in the galaxy, and trust me! You had some stiff competition in that regard!”_ It was the only conclusion He could have reached at the moment even as the Shard spoke again. _“So. Are you ready?”_

“Ready? Ready for what?” spoke back the Emperor in genuine confusion.

_“Why, for Me to come back! You have no idea how lonely it gets with only the Interwarp to keep your company for three centuries and the occasional passing by daemon. Besides, someone has to smack some sense back into you regarding being a fracking human. It might as well be yourself.”_

The Master of Mankind just stood there again for a second, allowing for the revelation to sink in.

“Accepting you back is the same as admitting I was wrong to cast you out in the first place-”

 _“Ok, ready or not, here I come!”_ Said the Shard as he started flying toward the Emperor’s psychic manifestation.

“Wait what? No!” Screamed the Emperor in desperation.

_“Nope! Already decided! You're getting your compassion back! Be ready to feel like the biggest turd since the Eldar fucked the galaxy into warp storm mania!”_

“NO! You can’t just do it!” Once more screamed the Emperor as he futely raised His arms in defence and attempted to pull back His mind from this place, only to realise that he was far too late.

_“Already doing it!”_

And then the merge happened.

And just like that, He was back on Terra. Back in his golden bed, wrapped and twisted in his sheets, golden laurel thrown across the room and Him staring at the ceiling in bewilderment.

“Wait...did anything even happen? It had to be a dream. Yes! That is all that I was! A drea-”

And then something came rushing back into the Emperor. Something he had long since forgotten he was even capable of feeling. His compassion and love… and with it, the fullest of His humanity.

“Well...this isn’t so ba **D OH FUUUUUU-”**

**...  
Back to the present**   
...

“Like I said, completely under control!”

“I don’t believe you for even a second.” Lorgar sniped at his Father, ignoring the awed looks on his brother’s faces. The only ones who were not in awe were Magnus and Mortarion, for vastly different reasons.

Magnus was currently attempting to go bald via pulling out his own hair, sputtering as he tried to comprehend what his Father just did in the hours since they last saw him. “You mean to tell me that you just _casually soul fused_ in your apartments while the rest of us were sent to our own!?”

“Yeah, that about sums it up.” The Emperor grinned, crossing His legs and leaning back on the couch.

Mortarion nearby scowled and turned on his heel out of Lorgar’s apartments. “I’m going to bed.”

“Don’t you have a Legion to manage?” Roboute asked pointedly. “You said that you have traitors to handle.”

“I really… really can’t be bothered at the moment.” Mortarion growled. “I am out before father does something stupid again.”

“Ah yes, that does remind me.” The Emperor leaned forward again, smiling. “Who would be up for a nice little road trip?”

Horus almost shouted in surprise and the audacity of his father as he banged on the wall, nearly caving it in. “We. Just. Came. To. Terra.” He enunciated every word with another punch to the wall.

“Oh but this is of the most important nature.” The Emperor hummed. “I promise. It involves a war council, political mustering... And palace building with a surrounding city.”

“Again.” Horus let out a sound of frustration, “We just came to Terra! We have been here for less than twenty four Terran hours!”

“And I am not saying there isn’t work to be done, Horus.” The Emperor attempted to calm the rapidly rising tension. “What I am saying is, that it is best done away from here. Away from all the blood leeches that are the politicians and the holo-reporters. Best way to do that is to move planets, mostly somewhere closer to the core of the Imperium where it will be a far easier rally point. And besides, I want us _all_ together for this war council, the entire family! It will be as much of a defining event as Ullanor, hell, as the Great Crusade! I promise you.”

Roboute looked up from his dataslate, already conjuring up plans for the building of a palace for all of the family but also the surrounding city for the countless serfs and servants needed to upkeep everything built as well. “Father, all of us are already here, save for Angron and Lion.”

“Incorrect.” The Emperor spoke, causing Magnus to whirl his head around at the familiar sounding line. “We are not. Oh and, might want to throw ‘reviving a dead world in the Badab Sector’ into your planning Roboute.”

The stylus that Roboute had been using snapped clean in half, both halves falling to the ground as a small twitch appeared on his brow. Roboute merely smiled, but the fury was there underneath. “Of course, Father. Please, tell me, are we also going to recreate a Necron pylon as well? Perhaps we can finally go and create a star while we are at it.”

The Emperor laughed as He stood and walked over to Roboute, before patting him on his shoulder. “You always did have a decent sense of humour. But no. I got a secret weapon or two in my sleeve.” The Emperor’s gaze stopped when His eyes found Mortarion’s causing the Primarch to _immediately_ feel far more uncomfortable at the sheer amount of… of warmth and truth he saw in them.

“I think I hate this version of you more than I hated you before.” Mortarion bit at the Emperor, escaping Lorgar’s apartments. He wanted to sleep and be away from everyone else before they were all inevitably dragged away from Terra.

Leman nearby shrugged, “I have no skills in buildin’ shit.”

“No need.” The Emperor waved him off. “There will be plenty of other uses for your skills Leman, mostly in the feasting and drinking category to be admitted, but a useful one nonetheless.”

Nearby, Horus slammed his head hard enough against the wall of Lorgar’s room to chip away the outer layer, being startled to find two pairs of eyes looking back at him as the false wall slid open, revealing Alpharius and Omegon.

“What…”

“...have we…”

“...missed?”

“Another hidden fucking entrance, that’s what.” Lorgar grumbled under his breath. “I swear, I don’t think I can hide anything in here anymore.”

“Twins!” The Emperor smiled at his boys, “Glad you’re here! I need you two to get ready, you’re going to be enacting what we talked about!”

They cocked their heads, quiet and waiting for what their Father was talking about.

“The gathering. You will receive your instructions on the way. Just make sure you are armoured up and have everything you need.”

The Twins only grinned, they did so love it when they were allowed to run rampant.

“And remember my boys,” The Emperor pointed with both hands at them. “The chaotic route.”

**...**   
**Later on in the day  
** **...**

  
  


His sons noticed Him as soon as He stepped into the massive gathering hall.

“Father, why is it that you had us all meet here? And with all of our luggage no less.” Cautiously asked Guilliman. “You surely don’t mean to…” When Roboute saw the look on his father’s face, he sighed deeply. “Of course you do. You mean for us to depart without so much as a few days of preparation.”

The Emperor smiled before answering as He strode right into his group of sons.

There was a sudden coughing noise from behind the Emperor, He turned to find Malcador standing there.

“Indeed!” The Emperor laughed. “But not to worry, I have, of course, thought of it all. Even Malcador will be joining us!”

The Sigilites face showed genuine surprise at the gesture. “I will!?”

“Yup! You don’t get to have a choice on this.” Said the Emperor as he walked over to the Sigillite and put an arm around his shoulders, some of the Primarchs getting quite a shock at the gesture, wondering how their father had managed to become even _more_ casual since the morning.

Mortarion let out a loud, long groan. “I have work to do. I can’t just be dragged around by you! I have to finish up my check ups on Gabriel, write up a meal plan and get him started on his own road to recovery, not to mention I need to get back to my legion!”

“Not to worry Morty.” The Emperor waved him off. “Gabriel is under the best of care. And so too is your legion. Constantin and the rest of the War Council will take care of things while we are away for say… oh I don’t know… a month, tops?”

“Did you just fucking call me not the best in my own field…?” Mortarion grumbled to himself.

“Revelation, will you stop pushing responsibility onto other people!?” Malcador intervened before things could get uglier. “You’re supposed to be doing _your_ job.” Malcador spoke in a barely concealed tone of fury.

“Don’t you worry Mal! I have worked my fingers to the bone to make sure everything is in _perfect_ order.” The Emperor then muttered under his breath _‘Along with all of the Custodes I could get my hands on.’_ “Doing paperwork!”

**…** **  
****Earlier, during the same day**   
...

“My lord… I beg of you not to do this!” Pleaded Constantin Valdor who was beset with fear and apprehension of what the Emperor was meaning to do.

The Emperor sighed, a resigned look of defeat on his face. “I have to Constantin, it is the only way now…” He looked on grimly, now dressed in his regal uniform, finally finding time to dress himself.

“Sire, there has to be another way!” Interrupted Tribune Custodes, Ra Endymion, desperate to stop his Liege before he could go any further with this, quite frankly, ludicrous idea.

“Yes sire! There has to be another way!” Added Tribune Custodes Jasaric, one of the original thirty Custodians ever made by the Emperor. “I beg of you to see reason, your majesty! Surely the _scribes_ can-” He attempted to add before being cut off by the Emperor himself.

“My Companions… I value your advice greatly… However, it is far past time that I take up the more menial duties of my office again. Bring them in… all of them.”

All of the present Companions held their collective breaths as the roof above the Emperor’s massive office opened and it dropped hundreds of **literal tons** of paperwork.

Constantin, who was completely covered in the paper, poked his head out. “Sire… excuse my crude language but, how, by all of the stars, are we supposed to do all of this all in the same day? Same week even…”

A voice from above said, “I’m not sure this can be done this **year**.”

Another Companion, slightly bigger than his brethren, appeared from the massive mountain of papers, holding a flamer above his head and inclined his head toward the Emperor in an inquisitive motion.

“No, we cannot fall back on that solution again. This time, we stop avoiding menial work.” Responded the Emperor, a look of determination on his face. The Companion wielding the flamer tilted his head sadly before stowing the flamer away hoping to perhaps get a chance at it later...

“Now my Companions. Call in any Custodes you can. We know our duty, and we shall do it!” Said the Emperor in a cheerful tone even as he produced a quill with some ink, all the while all of the present Custodes facepalmed and groaned at the obscure reference. They were going to have to limit him doing that from now on yet again, weren't they? Just like the old times...

“Excuse me for saying so, sire, but… I am worried that since you have gotten back your humanity you have been acting… far too cheerful.” Spoke Ra Endymion, being located on the massive chandelier of the room, the pressure and force from the paperwork being so strong, it threw him skyward and he grabbed onto the first solid object that he could.

The Emperor chuckled before answering. “Nonsense my Companion! Like I said, I feel like I have been sitting on board a Golden throne for ten thousand years without moving a single muscle while everyone loses ninety-five percent of their brain cells and destroys my life work while I watch in agony unable to do anything about it! Oh, and my nose would also constantly itch.”

“That is an oddly specific comparison.” Whispered Jasaric to the Custodian with the flamer who nodded while also raising his shoulders in an act of exasperation.

“Oh and before I forget.” Now spoke the Emperor again. “Hi, worried, I am Emperor!”

Yet again the sound of a collective facepalm and groans came from the Custodes.

Ra let his body drop out of pure frustration from the chandelier. His armoured form moulding his shape perfectly into the paperwork covered floor, thick enough to fit two of him standing on top of each other. “He isn’t even using it right…” he muttered, his voice muffled by the fact that his helmet was embedded in the floor now. This was going to be one hell of a day...

**…** **  
****Back in the present**   
...

Malcadors eyebrows flew up into his hairline at this. “You have? How-? How did you do it all in one day!?” He exclaimed in shock.

“Well, it took the better part of the day, _and the entire Palace running out of Caffeine-_ ”

The Primarchs and Malcador could swear they heard some nearby Companions mumble something about “dying from boredom” and “using the flamer”. Sanguinius glared at his Father, muttering, ‘it was you!’

“-but I did it!” Then he smirked at Malcador, about to say something else that many brothers knew was coming, and some even began to groan right before he said it. “And also… **Because I’m the motherfucking Emperor.** ”

Malcador tapped his staff, suddenly realizing why a massive part of the Imperial Scriptorium suddenly disappeared. Some of them were too good to lose…

Not to mention why the Sigillite couldn’t have any recaff that day.

He realized this just as some of the Primarchs now began to mutter amongst themselves now, in the end some agreed they could take some time off, at least on another world they could have _some_ semblance of distance away from each other.

But while some were beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel… others were not.

“Father, we have been on vacation this entire time! We’ve been sitting around on the Bucephalus for around a month? Weeks? Just watching vids together, reading these texts that are green for some reason and even playing video games!” Corvus intoned, a frown on his face at the thought of all that wasted time.

Malcador growled, muttering about ‘that’s where my video game collection went…’

“Yup! And it caused us to avoid a catastrophic civil war which would see many of you either dead or turned to serving those worthless supposed god sacks of shit tumors! And besides, that wasn’t the same, that was us all sitting together on a warship in full armour, and at any time we could be taken away to join the war again! Like Nuceria!” Some Primarchs did nod in acknowledgement, knowing the reasoning behind it all. “And it also made me realize something… I have been one terrible father.”

Everything in the room went quiet as all of the Primarchs stared at the Emperor, the ones he talked to last night having big dumb smiles on their faces, being happy that their father _by some magical miracle,_ admitted to being wrong for once.

“But again-”

“Oh for the love of mother of all Grox manure’s sake-” Spoke Malcador knowing what was coming **again**. Even if he only heard it once already, he knew it was going to be his friend's new slogan.

“I am the motherfucking Emperor. And I have devised that the best way to fix this would be for us to bond, as a family! But for real this time, not just shoving us in one room and hoping it works out. With actual care this time.”

“So does this mean you admit to being wrong?” Horus spoke up, thoroughly done with his Father's antics for a lifetime.

“Yes. I was wrong.” The Emperor admitted out loud for all to hear, even with a pained expression on his face at having to utter those horrid words.

Well, if their Father could admit to being wrong for once... most of them realized it was for the best that they just go along with what their Father wanted to do. It would simply be easier, and the quicker it started, the quicker they could go back to their own happy little corner of the Great Crusade, as far away from each other as they damn well pleased.

“Alright then. Where would we be going father?” Finally asked Horus, as he brought his hands to his face, rubbing it in submission and exasperation.

The Emperor looked toward the warmaster before replying, “In the Badab sector, there is a bit of a pet project I have been working on, and I believe it will be **perfect** for this little retreat of ours. Despite being a dead world, it is going to be just right.” He straightened up, looking proud of himself. “It’ll be something all of us can work on together!”

The collective groan from the Primarchs could be heard all across the palace as the Emperor continued his speech.

“Oh and I almost forgot. Bring your whole family with you, more specifically my grandkids, I think it’s way beyond the time I meet the rest. So far I’ve only met two of them and let’s just say I’m ready to meet the more well adjusted ones.”

As some of the Primarchs became a stuttering mess, a small part of their minds had refused to realise that their father was serious. Some gambled it must be a joke or a long standing test. But now, they realised fully, their father was dead serious. Jaghatai merely lifted an eyebrow at this. “I don’t know if all of my children can fit into one gathering, honestly. But to be fair, I have only met around half of them.”

“Just bring your first born or something like that.” Explained the Emperor to the Khan, who in response only began to stare at the Emperor for a second before just shutting his mouth. He would see to that predicament eventually.

“I suppose I could bring Rosalina… she is at that age where she could start going out in this wide galaxy of ours. At least with me, since she is so small. Travelling with toddlers isn’t so bad, is it? I mean, she would only have a small assortment of two dozen servants...”

Magnus slowly turned to Fulgrim, face neutral but his eye practically blazing as he spoke in great concern. “Don’t you think that is a **bit** young to take away from her mother? _She does have a mother, right?_ ” He added in quickly.

Fulgrim blinked. “Of course? How else would I have my daughter? We hardly ever spend time together due to my duties to the Great Crusade. And while I admit father’s idea seems rash, he does have a point about us needing to spend time as a family. How else can I make sure my precious Rosalina grows up to be my perfect princess?” Fulgrim’s voice was actually warm and caring which surprised Magnus. He was sure to invite Rosalina to their meeting area, nothing could go wrong.

“Glad to see we don’t have another Lion on our hands.” Spoke Konrad from the back, making both Fulgrim and Magnus jump.

“Konrad? Since when have you been there?” Spoke Magnus.

“Since I found out that Lion’s apartments are guarded too tightly.” He glared daggers towards the Emperor, who merely returned his gaze with a smile, causing severe discomfort toward Konrad at being on the end of **_actual kindness_ ** for once in his life. “I haven’t made a dent.”

Roboute, seeing this, attempted to elevate the mood and turned to Rogal. “Are you excited to work on a whole new building project, brother? I know you were honoured to redesign the Imperial Palace, however this happens to be on a smaller scale.”

“I am thrilled to work on a new palace project.” Rogal answered with not much of a change to his speech or even a smile.

“I don’t know why you bothered asking him, Roboute. You know he will never change much when it comes to anything besides bad humour and his own sons.” Perturabo spoke slowly, the Emperor actually glad to see that Perturabo was gaining more of an awareness of social standards. Even if Perturabo was the only one of his brothers who was wearing his armour still, despite everyone else adopting a more casual look.

“Speaking of bad humour.” The Emperor began, his look directed at Guilliman. “Any luck tracking down Yvraine?”

Roboute turned to the Emperor before speaking, a look of unease coming across his Macraggian features. “Yes, and that’s the problem. I did my research, Father, and what troubles me is how supposedly she was only around five hundreds years old by the time the forty-second millennium even happened. Yet now I was able to find her in our present time.” He said even as he brought his hands together, rubbing them along his face as he thought about the… discrepancy that has occurred.

“Oh, what do you mean by that? Please do tell more! I am keen to see Aegidius be brought in early here!” Spoke the Emperor with a smile in his voice.

“...calm yourself, Father. Now, as happy as I am to possibly have him early as well, therein lies the problem however. Father, I have a theory that ever since the vids have made their appearance in our galaxy, our time, perhaps other factors have changed as well.” Roboute began to pace, “Which leads me to ponder about another factor that seems to have changed when thinking about the future the vids talked about.” He pointed to Lorgar, who darted his gaze from Roboute to the Emperor quickly. “You haven’t gone on your pilgrimage, brother.”

“Y-yes.” Lorgar blinked a few times then shrugged, “Yes. I did not go on my pilgrimage. I was supposed to go on my pilgrimage many months, even a year before Ullanor even occurred.”

“However, you didn’t.” Magnus spoke up, he was intrigued at the idea of possible butterfly effects.

“I didn’t go on my pilgrimage due to… Well, I didn’t go because I wanted to give all of you a second chance.” Lorgar shrugged once more, “Erebus and Kor Phaeron were angry that I didn’t want to leave at the moment, but I stood firm.”

A sudden, deep thought hit Magnus. “This has been influencing us all since before even Ullanor-”

“Yup.” The Emperor confirmed. “So. What do you say? A vacation to break up the monotony it is. Right?”

**…** **  
****Meanwhile, in the warp**   
...

The Lord of Change was screaming.

The hole was **bigger now** ! It was making his entire realm gold! **GOLD**. There was so much gaudy- lovely gold- gaudy! Horrible, terrible blue- GOLD! His beautiful realm of gol- mystery! Mystery was turning gold!

That stupid, **stupid** , **_stupid_ ** holy golden fucking hole in reality and unreality was **_bigger_ **! It was bigger and making everything worse!

Worse!

But he planned for this!

The sudden explosion at the other end of the labyrinth unplanned that.

Not to worry! He simply needed to organize his thoughts and- was that a massive book?

It hit him square in the face before continuing onwards towards the materium.

Fuck… Khorne, Slaanesh and Nurgle were really going to try and kill him this time around...

**…** **  
****Back in the present**   
...

“But anyway!” Said the Emperor, now sporting a massive grin for some reason. “If you are all up for it, I have had a transport prepped and ready to leave ASAP!”

The Primarchs looked at each other, very, **very,** **_VERY_ ** reluctantly they then slowly nodded and made various noises of agreement, deciding that the sooner they got this over with, the sooner they could go back to doing their damned jobs! Some of their wives were already angry at them for not coming to visit them enough and not spending enough time with the children. If they ever found out that they spent countless weeks just sitting in space doing nothing and playing games and watching vids to now on a planet doing… well… _something_ they would **not** be happy.

“I presume we are all in agreement father.” Then spoke Horus even as various servitors began to lumber into the room to pick up their luggage and transport it to their transport.

“Fantastic!” Said the Emperor in somehow an even more cheerful mood. “The Custodial transport is in this direction, let’s go!”

“Uhhh father… what about Angron and Lion?” Asked Magnus just as they started walking toward the shuttle pad.

“Bah! I told you not to worry yourselves needlessly! I have taken care of everything!” Said the Emperor nonchalantly in response, never breaking his stride. “Honestly, though, I think this would be a great time to bring Ragio with us! The boy can help! And Lion will come along, just need to load him onto the ship and make sure Konrad can’t get to him. But I did send off a message that explains everything to his second in command.”

**…  
** **On the** ** _Truth's Razor  
_ ** **...**

On the Dark Angel’s Gloriana, Luther of the Dark Angels had been enroute to the next nearby sector, serving as his adoptive son’s head when away from his legion. He had been directly on the front lines of the Great Crusade, acting as deputy for his son, the Lion. He had been lost in thought as he awaited for the Gloriana to start its warp jump when he received a message.

 _Vermillion level? From the Emperor himself?_ Knowing it must be of the most dire of importance, he immediately opened the message, fearing the worst.

And it turns out, fearing the worst wasn’t enough to keep him from realizing that perhaps there are actions out there worse than he can imagine. Judging from his silence, a few nearby Astartes were glancing at him, then to each other before approaching Luther cautiously.

“Lord Luther? What is going on? Is everything alright?”

Luther shook in place in uncontrolled fury, letting out a loud and pained sigh as he slowly turned around to face the Astartes. His face was calm, but his eyes would easily set ablaze if given the chance. Luther thought about everything that message had told him, all of this information that was hidden from him right under his nose.

He briefly considered throwing himself out of the nearest airlock. No, that wouldn’t do, he had something even more important to do at this moment.

He is going to where Lion is and he was going to chide him out and put him back into remedial lessons of etiquette for being such a backwards, lying, idiotic piece of grox-shit! And make sure his grandson was alright of course, couldn’t forget that. After he was done with Lion, he wasn’t sure he was comfortable giving the Legion’s reins back to him. Maybe Gabriel would do better in the future.

“My lord?” A Dark Angel asked respectively whilst approaching Luther, “What does the message say?” He asked in a respectful tone, the rest of the Astartes on the bridge waiting patiently for a response.

“I have been made acting Legion Master of the Ist Legiones Astartes until further notice and supersede all authority of our Primarch, Lion el'Jonson. Our first orders from the Emperor: we are needed in the Badab sector with all due haste.”

A stunned silence fell over the entire bridge until the Lord Cypher standing next to Luther, who was standing there in absolute confusion, was handed the message by Luther. After reading the message, the Lord Cypher, the master of whispers, the holder of all secrets and traditions of the entire Ist Legion and one of the Imperium’s greatest holders of secret knowledge, said the only words he could possibly think of to convey the complex emotions and thoughts concerning this oh so delicate issue of their legion in the most eloquent way possible.

“What the **actual fuck!?** ”

**...  
Back on Terra  
** **...**

A worried thought came through Magnus’ mind for a second but he quickly dismissed it.

“I will send one of Angron's sons for him. His equerry I believe would fit the task, as far as I understand the two get along the most out of all his sons. Angron is going to be out of it for a while longer, since I’m not completely sure how well the medically induced coma is going to last. So until then, we still need to do something for the XIIth...” Muttered Lorgar even as he summoned a serf to inform the World Eater of his new orders, knowing that, according to their father’s expectations, this was going to be a **long** vacation.

“Oh they are going to have plenty to do on the planet!” Said the Emperor in what seemed to now be his annoyingly standard cheerful tone. “The Space Wolves are there too after all, a good spar or two will always be needed while I work on removing the butcher's nails with the Biologicus and Cawl.”

All of the Primarchs stopped in their tracks for a second and openly stared at their Father, he had been talking a big game of doing something against the nails for weeks, but until now they finally see that their Father was actually going to make good on his statements. Rebellious little voices in the backs of their heads always sat there, leaving just a sliver of doubt… Thankfully that doubt was being eased. Dorn, of course, was so surprised he actually kept walking, unknowingly behind Perturabo, the latter being the only one wearing his power armour out of all of his brothers.

There was a resounding banging noise, but not even Perturabo noticed Rogal crashing into his armour as he was too stunned by the Emperor's words.

It was Malcador however who roused them out of their state of shock, pointing with his finger to his head and making a slight spinning motion.

A look of understanding overcame the Primarchs as they continued their trek toward the transport. Perturabo however, couldn’t move.

The Emperor, noticing the distinct sound of Perturabo’s terminator plate whirring along as he walked being absent, stopped and looked back toward his son.

“Perturabo? What seems to be the matter?” He asked in a somewhat worried tone. Perturabo still wasn’t used to that tone and ignored it out of spite.

“I… I can’t move. Something is wrong with my armour's power supply…”

“I have found the issue.” Spoke Rogal from behind his brother as he emerged, holding a massive chunk of what appeared to once been Perturabo’s power pack. No one even bothered noticing that Rogal’s nose was pointed completely in a new direction and in the process of healing along with a nearly caved in forehead. “I am lucky you have decided to use Ceramite-103B and not Ceramite-103A for the outer casing of your armour brother, its inadequate toughness managed to not harm my moustache. My nose and forehead is another matter.

Perturabo chose to attempt and swing his armoured hand for Rogals face by pure instinct at this point, only finding the heaviness of his, now dead, terminator plate making that option unavailable.

“Rogal… I swear, by all the marble on Olympia and Macragge **_I am going to-_ **”

“I do not see the point of you bickering with me brother. Your armour was inadequate, now you will see why, better it happen here rather than on the field of war.”

“Pert, just take your armor off. Is it really necessary for you to wear it everywhere?” Asked Horus, facepalming and rubbing his eyes.

Before anyone could say anything the massive form of Vulkan grabbed his brother's massive armoured form and hefted him over his shoulder, Perturabo’s power armour’s gyroscope locking everything that could move in place when Rogal’s head violently impacted into the power pack of the armour.

“Do not worry my Brothers.” Said Vulkan in his ever present optimistic tone as he slung Perturabo over his shoulder, the latter being far too shocked to say anything about it. “I will make sure our brother is freed from his armor and is able to walk amongst us all!”

This snapped Perturabo out of his reviere, making him nearly sputter in anger. “Do not take off my armor!” He attempted to wiggle out of his brother’s grasp, but was unable to move at all, his armour stubbornly locked in place and keeping him in Vulkan’s grip. “I am not taking off my armour! Just put a new power pack on the back and let me continue-”

“I do not have a power pack for your armor on hand, Brother. With yours broken, it would take too much time to fix it. But do not worry! I will share with you my own clothing! You will look just like a bright little Nocturnian! Except you have wires on your head.” Vulkan happily supplied.

“Vulkan I do not want to walk around without my armour! I have not taken it off since I got it and I won’t start now-”

But it was too late, with a massive grunt of effort, Vulkan grabbed with one hand the belt of his brother's armour and with the other, the hood of the terminator plate, and began pulling with all his un-armoured primarch might.

“No! Stop Vulkan! You are going to-” Perturabos' words stopped as suddenly the old but well cared for plate cracked and snapped open with a scream of bending adamantium and a deafening crack.

With the armour gone, Perturabo’s hauntingly pale body was revealed to the family. The only part of him not this unnatural pale was his face, which made him look out of place, as if he was a head transplanted on a new body. The Primarch Perturabo had to deal with the wide eyed stares of his family, on the floor wearing only his sash and showing off his disturbing physique.

Mortarion was the one to say something first, in a tone he wasn’t sure was pitying, assuring, understanding or mocking. “Not as bad as me. At least you don’t have to deal with rotting flesh and wrinkles absolutely everywhere while smelling like death. I think looking like a glorified sun mirror by comparison isn’t so bad.”

Perturabo looked toward Ferrus in his misery, his eyes showing true desperation and wordlessly pleading with his brother.

“I am sorry brother, but all of my tools for power armour artificery are back on Medusa and the _Fist of Iron_.” Responded Ferrus, feeling some sympathy for his brother.

“I… I feel so… naked.” Spoke Perturabo slowly.

“That is because you are.” Rogal helpfully pointed out.

Before Perturabo became even aware of the response, a massive green cloth was draped over him. Looking over the cloth he saw that it was a massive shirt and pants and quickly put them on, noting with some tiny amount of happiness that most of his brothers had averted their gaze. At least most understood how humiliating it must be to be this exposed before all of them.

At least now he wouldn’t have to look at his bleached body anymore. Ferrus was right, flesh could be weak…

Instantly the Emperor was by his side, that was quite surprising to the Primarch, but what was even more was the fact that he offered Perturabo a hand in getting up.

“Can we go now? For helvetes sake this is taking far too bloody long.” Complained Leman as the family **finally** made way for the transport.

The Emperor pouted, “Leman only I can make 4th wall jokes!”

“What the FRAK are those!?”

**...  
** **_Meanwhile, on another landing pad  
_ **...

Kharn was not happy.

At least that is what the World Eater who was landing the Stormbird at the Imperial Palace thought as he dropped the ramp a second before touchdown and he immediately walked off. No one was quite sure what Kharn was thinking at any time, and it has only gotten worse since word of Angron’s _condition_ had reached the World Eaters. Not to mention how the boy was off ship as well.

Kharn walked briskly and with purpose. His blue and white power armoured bulk making the swarm of reporters and holocasters move quickly out of his way in an effort to avoid getting trampled by the Astartes. The damned parasites had been camping outside the gates ever since yesterday’s debacle.

One of the parasites had the audacity to come straight to Kharn and stop swarming around their main target, shoving a microphone in his direction.

“Captain Kharn, my Lord, can you give us-”

Kharn just growled menacingly at the holoreporter until he shrunk away, babbling apologies until he pushed past the weak little man. He had a much more important task than standing around and feeding the parasites of society.

Namely, the boy was surrounded by the reporters shouting questions at him a mile a minute and not giving him a chance to speak. Most had missed their chance to gaze upon the Emperor and his sons yesterday, now they were trying to make up for lost time by harassing the young Lord who had not received any training in dealing with the press.

“Can you give us any explanation on why you look so much like the Primarch Angron of the World Eaters?”

“He- He’s my father actually-”

Oh for fucks sake! He did it now! Kharn wondered idly if he would get into too much trouble by calling a drop pod to land on this exact spot.

“You are the son of a Primarch!? Please, my lord, can you give us any idea on why you have chosen now to come public?” The reporter was practically salivating, attempting to not be drowned out by the many other reporters that now were nearly rabid.

Ragio whimpered slightly, he was trying to not pay attention to the flashing lights and the questions and the people and all the noise and- “Look- Look I didn’t know until a few weeks ago- I just found out I was stuck alone on Nuceria-”

“So you were abandoned by your father?”

“Wait, that’s not- That’s not what happened, I mean-”

Kharn activated his helmet's vox line and patched directly into the main comm lines of the _Conqueror_. “Lotara. Send in reinforcements. The boy is talking too much.” He didn’t wait for an affirmation and started pulling reporters to the sides, grabbing Ragio’s tunic and dragging him from the crowd. “Enough questions. We need to go.”

“Wait- Wait I could have left!?” Ragio sputtered, covering his eyes from the flashing lights. “I just came own cause I saw everyone else did!”

Kharn just growled, tugging Ragio harder to get away from the chasing reporters, all of them asking inappropriate questions like: “Who is your mother then?” “Were you vat born like your Father?” “Why did you not come down with the rest of the family?” “The Emperor was seen escorting his grandson earlier, why are you being excluded from the family?” “Is there tension between you and the rest of the family?”

For a brief moment, Kharn wondered if the repercussions were worth it to cut through multiple lines of reporters. Then he realized that there would be too much paperwork and he’d sooner wish for death than deal with that.

Thankfully, up above the gate and the collected people, a stormbird with the World Eater’s insignia was barreling towards their direction. Causing the reporters to scatter away from Kharn and Ragio, making room for the Stormbird to “land” near them. The ramp barely touching the ground when the squad of World Eaters already burst from the Stormbird and leveled their bolters at the reporters that went deathly quiet.

“Press conference is over. Fuck off.” Kharn ground out, dropping Ragio to the ground.

The reporters nodded their heads, knowing that if a bolter was pointed in your direction, then it was not time for questions. A few were staring at one astartes who had what looked like a living creature in the shape of a book biting and gnawing on the left shoulder pad. One of the marines lifted his bolter up and shot into the sky, scaring the reporters that ran away screaming, reminding the marines of how they moved in fear like a bunch of cockroaches.

Ragio breathed deeply, grateful that it was finally ove-

Kharn immediately pulled on his arm in the direction of the Stormbird that had just landed, dragging the Primechild.

“What- what- where what!?” Ragio angrily tried to break Kharn’s grip, but gave up when the man did not budge so much as an inch. He did watch as the sentient book made a yipping, almost angry growling sound as it leapt from the marine it was gnawing on and landed on his face.

To call it a loving, tender bite would be an understatement.

Before he knew it, he was on board the stormbird, and thrown into a chair before being strapped in.

“Wait-” He tried to speak, his voice muffled by the book which he finally managed to pry off. “-why- why are you here? Where are we going? I thought the Emperor and the rest of the Primarch’s were in the palace?”

As the rest of the World Eaters began to take their seats, Kharn sat down across from Ragio. “New orders. We’re leaving.”

“Why? We just got here-”

“Ask the Emperor boy, I don’t know why.” Kharn replied.

“Will- will you stop calling me a boy!?”

Kharn merely looked at him.

“It’s annoying! I am almost a century old for crying out loud!”

Kharn kept looking.

“Look… I don’t mean to… sound ungrateful but…”

One of the World Eaters that sat next to him “tapped” him on his shoulder and pointed at the vox receivers of his own helmet, showing that-

“You muted your input!? Oh you…” Ragio growled before letting his head hit the rest of the chair he was strapped into, the book now gnawing lovingly on his arm as the stormbird took flight.

**_...  
_ ** **_Finally, on the other transport  
...  
_ **

All of the Primarchs entered the transport and began to take various seats in the luxurious main room of the small ship. It had enough sleeping quarters, supplies and weaponry to be war transport, but was still luxurious enough to be considered essentially a pleasure ship by Astartes standards. The Emperor informed them all that He would be going to visit the Navigator, saying that he knew a far quicker route to their destination, Malcador followed him, still annoyed at his actions and attempting to give the Emperor an earful and knowing exactly what He was about to attempt to do.

As all of the Primarchs began to idly chat amongst themselves, Perturabo had to admit he felt… naked without his armour. He had gotten so used to it that it had become his second skin, without its heavy bulk he had to admit it was very weird being able to sit in a normalish chair. What’s more is he was surprised at how the chair was soft, one apparently tended to forget these things if he didn’t remove his power armour for close to two whole centuries.

He was lost in thought when a big shadow gulfed over him, he looked up to find Rogal of all people standing there.

“What do you want, brother?” Asked Perturabo in an annoyed tone, still uncomfortable without his armour.

“I would like to apologize for destroying your armour. It was not my intent and has left you without an important part of your war gear, for that I am sorry.”

Perturabo stared up at his brother. Surprised was not a deep enough word to describe what and how he was feeling at the moment. Shock perhaps? Maybe a bit of that too. Or perhaps disbelief? Yes, there was a healthy mix of that one too. Too many surprising things have been happening lately, it was hard to keep track anymore. He didn’t expect to get along with Rogal during those hell weeks, it reminded him of the time he spent with Izanagi...

Before Perturabo could respond, the ship's internal Vox came on even as what Perturabo could swear wa s the Navigator of the ship and his aides walked through the living area and out of the ship.

“ _Uhhh hello there and thank you for flying air Emperor!_ ” Spoke a very cheerful Emperor through the vox even as the transport took off and headed for the atmosphere.

“We will now be underway to the Badab sector and should arrive in oooohhh a few _minutes_ warp time.” Continued the Emperor even as Magnus shouted in shock.

“ _Minutes?!_ He isn’t planning on-”

He was interrupted by the ship experiencing the turbulence of breaking the atmosphere and another announcement by his father.

“ _So strap yourselves in and grab a snack and barf bag or two! As soon as I remember how the navigators chair works I-yes yes thanks Mal, ah no no, no you won’t die ah don’t worry-_ ”

Nearby some of the brothers were rightly disturbed, Magnus was shouting incoherently about what the _frak_ was Father going to do now!? Before they could do, or say anything, a singular hunched over Custodes calmly walked in, flamer strapped to his side, and waved at them silently before finding a chair and strapping himself in, a colorful drink in hand with a long silly straw. This was enough to confuse them for a second before they realised something:

**Strap in right now you fools!**

All of the brothers ran for a seat and started strapping themselves in as the Emperor continued his tirade.

“ _-right right, yeah. Excuse me passengers, now that Malcador is strapped in we can go as soon as the route is planned oh and I want Alpharius and Omegon to prepare for a good old Tuck and Roll-_ ”

Tuck and Roll? What was that supposed to mean, thought the other Primarchs even as they looked around and saw that the twins were seated together, calmly looking around fully armoured. How did they manage that? It was getting annoying. All the while Rogal sat down next to the Custodes with a flamer and for some reason had a smile on his face?! Most of the Primarch decided that the galaxy was going completely nuts as their father continued the announcement.

“ _-ahhh there they are, so now hold on to your bladders and brace because I am so taking a shortcuuuuuuuuuuUUUUUUUAAAAAAAAA-_ ” They all felt a massive tug as the transport entered the warp faster than they ever thought possible.

**_...  
_ ** **_Meanwhile, somewhere in the Warp  
_ ** **_..._ **

Kairos Fateweaver looked through the gathered daemonic legions of his patron gods, neverborn.

In countless ranks they stood, each more powerful than the last.

An _infinite_ amount of planning had gone askew all because of a few holotapes.

At least for the other gods… as the Lord of Change was so fond of saying, all was going _just as_ **_planned._ **

Soon the webway beneath the Imperial Palace would open. It would crack and allow the hordes of Tzeentch passage into the materium.

“Everything is proceeding as I have foreseen.” Said Kairos’ main head even as the other denied the statement. “Today, servants of the Lord of Change, we enact a plan so long in the making, a plan of such perfection, a plan of such decadence and-”

A noise was coming from behind Kairos. Both his heads turned to see who would dare to enact such vile heresy against the Lord of Change’s army, only to have a split second to get away as a massive gold plated transport almost ran him over and proceeded to plow down most of the army.

When Kairos got up he only saw carnage left in the transport’s path.

He hung his heads low, being decimated by the fact that this was his second failure in the same century. Tzeentch would not be happy, oh no, no, no, he would not be happy at all! “This is a fine mess we have gotten into.” squeaked the lesser head.

“We will find a way to rebuild.” The main would mumble to himself.

“At least it can’t get any worse.” The lesser head intoned, before feeling twin taps on his shoulder.

**_...  
The Badab Sector, just above the Moon of Scotonia  
_ ** **...**

The Badab sector. Unknown and completely unremarkable, it was located at the very beginning of the Ultima segmentum. A trail of a few dozen dead like worlds are the only things which litter the centre of the sector. Here a planet, once lush with greenery and wildlife, now lay dead. Destroyed by the fires of Exterminatus.

Above it lie two moons. One a snow covered mountainous death world, unremarkable to say the least, its name, if it ever had one, long since lost in Imperial records. The second, with the name of Scotonia, once looked to be a world of plains and grass, not unlike that of Mundus Planus. Now it was a barren husk, scoured clean by what seemed to be a Virus which ate anything alive.

Today however, everything would change for this unremarkable bit of space.

The usual dead like silence of the sector's murky space was shattered when a massive warp tear opened up and out of it came tumbling a gold plated transport. Showing signs of heavy damage, hull plating being scratched and torn, wiring exposed and engines only partially working.

Soon the transport was caught in Scotonia’s gravitational pull and was sucked in. As it breached the atmosphere the golden plating of the craft continued to fly off in all directions, the craft being held together by what seemed to be a miracle.

It soon crashed in the scorched earth of the moon, slowly but surely skidding to a halt, miraculously still in one piece. The main ramp crashing down, the hydraulics responsible for keeping it held in place failing completely.

Out rushed the Primarchs and the Emperor along with Malcador not far behind.

“Father, was that completely necessary!?” Asked Magnus in exasperation as he was barely able to keep his senses in place, being tempted to vomit up everything he had eaten over the course of a whole week. He was going to say more, but clapped a hand over his mouth, bending forward to keep his stomach from heaving itself out and onto the ground.

“I hate to say this but ah’ agree with him!” Added on Leman who was simply lying on the ground and staring up at the blue sky desperately trying to stop his vision from spinning.

Roboute meanwhile was walking around in circles, dazed completely out of his mind. “By… by the throne I think I am going to…” He stopped and threw up everything he ate in the last few days.

“Oh it isn’t that bad! And no doing that Roboute, not here at least!” Chided the Emperor as he strode in amongst the Primarchs.

“Father I think you are in no position to chide any of us.” Added on Horus all the while holding a hand over his mouth in an attempt to stop more bile from coming up.

“Revelation…”

The Emperor turned to face Malcador. “Yes Mal?”

Malcador looked about as green as an ork and had the expression to match, a combination between sickness and anger. “You promised… remember?” He asked in an angry tone.

The Emperor looked away before twiddling his thumbs. “We agreed that I could use it in terms of an emergency.” Said the Emperor coyly, still not facing Malcador.

“That was the point.. this… this wasn’t an emergen-oh no I oh…” The sigillite continued stumbling over his own words as he attempted to collect himself.

“You are all acting pathetic.” Said Mortarion, seemingly the only one truly un-affected by the extreme warp travel next to the Emperor and unsurprisingly Rogal and the singular Custodes.

They seemed to be one of the few to properly strap in before the warp jump. Nearby, the lone Custodes looked to be checking over his precious flamer for any damage.

“Not all of us are _fortunate_ enough to have a rebreather brother.” Said Corvus, finally shaking off the nausea.

Soon however, in no small part to their impressive biology and or psychic prowess, all of the Primarchs and Malcador managed to shake it off.

“Where are we?” Asked Jaghatai. “I do not think I have ever seen this place or heard of it, but it reminds me of home. I am feeling a strange sense of familiarity.”

“You are telling me? There is a lot of passive warp energy in these plains. The world is dead physically but the immaterium has a strong connection here… it almost...” Magnus felt a hand put on his shoulder and turned to see his father standing there, for once a somber expression on his face.

“...feels alive.” Magnus finished his sentence just as the Emperor nodded.

“There is more to this world then we see isn’t there?” Tentatively asked Sanguinus from behind them, noticing and feeling his father's sudden mood shift.

The Emperor hung his head lower even as Malcador propped himself on his staff. “Revelation… you plan on showing them?” Malcadors voice sounded at that moment every bit as old as his body looked.

The Master of Mankind's head then hung as far as it could before he took a deep breath, straightened himself out and began walking.

“Come with me, my sons. It is time I showed you the cost of my failure.” He said, never breaking his stride even as Malcador stayed behind.

The Primarchs followed the Emperor down a small hill into what appeared to be empty squares of stone. Various metallic objects littered around along with the heavy dust and debris covering over these long lost relics of a time and place none had even known.

All of the Primarch’s knew in that instance what had happened.

“They appear to be-” Lorgar began the sentence.

“Houses.” finished Leman as they strode through what they now identified as the remains of a village long gone. 

“Life-Eater virus.” Mortarion finally made their thoughts known. “A very nasty fate. So I assume you brought us here to witness your failure and… what? Get us to forgive you? To forget how you treated all of us? To garner sympathy?” The venom in his voice practically was oozing into realspace.

“No Mortarion.” The Emperor shook his head. “I came to show you why the last of my humanity was lost.” The Emperor’s tone was grim, and filled with regret. “What the cost to build this Imperium was.”

They continued walking for a few more moments, the mood dropping more and more by the minute. Their impressive physiology made them capable of breathing even in such a low oxygen environment as they walked by what once must have been rolling hills and plains, until finally, they came by something they never would have expected to ever find.

In one of the stone squares sat a big slab made of auromite, the palatine aquila mounted at its head on a staff. Stark against the desolation of the planet itself, it stuck out like the gleaming jewel it was.

“Father?” Asked Lorgar, confused at the object.

“It’s… it’s…” Started Fulgrim. “A grave.” Finished Horus as they approached it and the Emperor kneeled at the site.

All of the Primarchs gathered around their father. The Emperor's face the very meaning of regret, of yearning for something that could never be given back...

Then Corvus realized it.

“This is one of the two, isn’t it?” He asked in a somber tone.

The Emperor’s head fell in response as even the more callous Primarchs stood in silence at the non-verbal confirmation.

“I… I think I remember him…” Slowly spoke Magnus. “But I never met him so how could I…”

Magnus was not alone in his confusion. All of the more psychic Primarchs remembered at least a sliver of their long gone brother.

“That is because he was your equal.” Spoke the Emperor, finally breaking His silence and turning to face Magnus with a face that spoke of the grief the Emperor had hid for so long.

“When you were at but the beginning of your lives you were already so powerful. I often talked to the two of you in your incorporeal forms. The two of you spent a great deal of time together, even played games when you were but tiny buds in your gestation pods. He was meant to be the one which would hold you back when you got too curious and you were meant to be the one which spurred him on when he would be too timid or paranoid.”

Not even Mortarion could be forced to feel disgust at his dead brother despite him being a Psyker.

“What happened to him, Father?” Asked Roboute, ever the scholar.

“I came too late.” Said the Emperor, His psychic prowess projecting the harrowing loss that he still felt within his soul, massive waves which could drown lesser men.

“As with Magnus, I could feel where he had landed and kept in contact with him. I was honed in on him, I pushed for this sector, I wanted to save him, to be reunited with your brother, Johanuss.” He paused, his vision wandering to a far off place that only he could ever recall. “I came _this_ close before they took him from me…” He shuddered as the memories of a time long past came crashing forth, “...I knew he needed me, I knew he was in trouble, he was in danger I could feel his desperation. It was my duty to come for him and save him before he was taken… I thought I had more time to find the others before I could get to him, thought he was safe for the moment.”

The family could only watch as the air around their father became dim, became cold and dry, and their father suddenly showed and looked every bit his true age even as the great sadness of the Emperor became palpable in real space before them all.

“I failed him. I listened to the cry from his heart, his very soul, needing me here, and then suddenly… suddenly… It was gone. Your brother died when I was only hours away. Hours. If I had been just a bit faster, if the warp had been just a bit more calm, if he had just those few, spare hours to hold on, I would have… He would still be here. It was only hours. Only hours…”

Silence reigned.

Only silence. They knew their brother was lost before they knew of him, they knew the IInd Legion would forever be without a Primarch, but they never really understood what happened that day. The day the Emperor did not speak, only acted in revenge. No one knew why the Badab Sector was of any significance, no one knew what happened beyond the Emperor and his Companions. No one knew how close the race against time had been. But now they knew, now they knew what happened and how costly but a few hours could be.

Vengeance had been served that day, the day that their Father had really changed, a day that Horus and Leman would remember forever, like a flip of a coin, their Father changed, it was then that the last of the Emperor’s humanity was truly lost.

Their remembrance of their Father’s fury caused the aforementioned Primarchs to look upwards towards the main planet above, their keen eyes seeing the crater where a cyclonic torpedo had been shot and impacted the planet. They didn’t need to hear of what happened next to know, after their Father came to this sector and saw what had happened to their brother. The crater, the silence and the stillness was enough to paint the picture of slaughter and bitter revenge all done with unimaginable anger, ferocity and the fury of a God-Like being. This had been the first and only time their Father led an extermination, not a compliance, not for the good of the Imperium, but to serve his own agenda. The most and least human He had been, in a single moment.

The only time His _true_ awe worthy, world shattering, power was shown.

When the Emperor’s own darkness was unleashed.

A moment the literal definition of an outraged God focused its pure, undiluted, hatred upon a single world.

And all over the most Human and irrational thing the Emperor had ever done...

Konrad was the first to speak, his usual gloom replaced with emptiness. “The stench of death lingers all around us as if it were radiation. Not just this planet and its moons, but the entire sector. You were Iudex and Carnifex.”

Their Father only nodded, unable to shed another tear for the lost son who had been so close, so close to being free and able to conquer. Free to be able to live his life and meet his family, to be saved by his Father when he needed him the most.

“Is that why you brought all of us here? To bring life back to this planet, this sector? To honour the death of a brother who hadn’t the chance to live?” Asked the Phoenician, glancing around the grave and beyond. The lone Custodes only watched, head bowed but still being just close enough.

“Yes. I want to bring all of you, my sons, along with Malcador to this place. I want to have us all work together on the same project as a family, to seal a vow between us all. I want to vow to all of you that we will not fail again. Be it past, present or countless futures, we must work together to have a chance at bringing life back to the desolate wastelands of this Imperium.” The Emperor sat back, looking at all of his gathered sons. “Vow to me and your family, vow that we will not let ourselves be torn apart by the grips of time, to not let ourselves be brought down by the human failings we all suffer from. A few hours sealed the life of your brother, a Legion and an entire Sector, a few years could have and has almost sealed ours. We have the chance to make it right, we’re all gathered here for this reason. No matter how furious you are with me, do not let yourselves be without each other.”

More than just a building project, more of a statement and monument to their unknown brother, to the bonds of family that must be held and saved, for the good of all. A vow to remain steadfast, to hold onto the knowledge gained from all of these vids and texts. To build a home they could all share as a family.

The brothers each vowed before their Father, words of binding loyalty to Him, but more importantly, to each other, to work together to honour their brother, to honour their family. To not be torn apart by deceit and corruption, to deny the grip of Chaos, to not allow themselves to be their own worst enemies. Even if they had not forgiven their Father for his wrong doings, the bonds of brotherhood were much more important.

And somewhere, sometime, the thread that tied these many realities was severed.

“We promise too, Father.”

The Primarchs all whirled around only to find Alpharius and Omegon standing there, both of their faces looking serious.

“Ah good boys, you’re back, I trust it went all fine then? What did it take?”

The two primarchs walked toward their Father even as they spoke.

“A punch or two had done it.”

“And the supplies and workers?”

“Promises of dreams and planting of ideas.”

They both smiled gently along with their father before Perturabo managed to but in.

“What are you two talking about? And how, by all of Olympias statues, did you manage to achieve all of that in minutes?” His voice conveyed annoyance but also slight worry.

“Ah well, you see Perturabo for us it might have been minutes-” Started the Emperor only to be cut off by Magnus.

“But in real time it was-”

“Two weeks.” Finished the Emperor as the Primarchs slowly turned toward their grinning Father, for once not out of annoyance.

“What did you send them out to do?” Horus asked in an accusing tone, at this point just accepting that their Father was always going to play his damned tricks.

“Oh nothing much really. Just to tell them to gather enough building materials, summon the Magos Biologicus of Mars along with finding Cawl and convince the Iron Warriors and Imperial Fists to come and prepare to build.”

Their Father had spoken it so casually that it was as if he was listing off a shopping list and not something the Primarchs would consider impossibilities.

“We made sure to punch the birds as well for you, Father. And we delivered the messages.” Spoke up the twins again.

“What messages?” Asked Russ in surprise.

“I gave them messages to send for your families and invite them here.” Said the Emperor with a smiling face as all of the Primarchs' faces took on a look that spoke volumes about them expecting such a thing at this point.

“Not even ten minutes into our vow and already you’re trying to test our patience.” Spoke Konrad with an oddly praising voice.

“Well yeah you can take it like that…” He spoke even as more asked questions.

All of those questions however were gone completely unnoticed by two of the Primarchs.

Perturabo had automatically stuck to Rogal. The feeling of safety from his armour being absent causing him to subconsciously seek safety at the first thing that could be considered hard cover. After the Emperor had said that the twins had managed to convince the Imperial Fists and Iron Warriors into **_working together_ **, he had just stared at Rogal in absolute shock. Rogal, for once in his life managed to reciprocate the gesture and stared back at Perturabo.

“...but yeah, the point is they should be here. ...soonish.” Finished the Emperor as all of his sons weren’t even surprised anymore. Far too many strange things happened at this point, it didn’t help that most were still suffering from the emotional whiplash.

As if on queue, Magnus felt the warp shift as it spat out a massive object.

Moments later, the more keen eyed of the Primarchs confirmed it when they looked up and saw the Imperial Fists mobile fortress monastery of the _Phalanx_ floating above them in orbit.

Soon after that, it began to spew out countless stormbirds and thunderhawks. The mentioned craft had the heradly of both the Iron Warriors and the Imperial Fists on their separate hulls.

“I… I just… I… I don’t even… how… I…” Perturabo became a stuttering mess even as a Stormbird of his legion landed right in front of him and out came all of his highly regarded advisors, Erasmus Golg, Harkor and Barban Falk.

What managed to somehow stun him even more and surprise Rogal however, was that next to the Trident walked Amanuds Tyr, Archamus and Alexis Polux all of them members of Rogal Dorns personal advisory council.

And they were all walking side by side chatting avidly.

Imperial Fists and Iron Warriors.

Chatting.

**Avidly.**

**_With each other._ **

Forget hours. What had happened in the two months they were gone from direct control to cause _this!?_

Both Perturabo and Rogal then and there decided and agreed subconsciously on something for the first time in their lives. The galaxy had gone completely crazy in the time they had last worked together with their sons.

While the two brothers were receiving the absolute shock of their lives, a bit further away, an Ultramarine Logistics corps was landing, apparently Alpharius or Omegon foresaw the need of the XIIIth Primarchs capabilities of bureaucracy and decided that some Ultramarines could help with the building.

That didn’t explain why some of the Ultramarines were stark still while staring toward the Primarchs.

Corvus being the ever aware one walked up to Guilliman and decided to point this out. “Forgive me, brother, what are your sons doing over there?” Roboute turned to face his gene-sons in confusion, expecting to answer Corvus’ question with at least some logic compared to what happened in the past few days.

“Oh they are…” Guilliman trailed off, some of the mentioned Ultramarines had removed their helmets and were openly crying. What was, in all of the marble on Macragge, going on now?! Couldn’t things be normal for once- **CLUNK!**

Guilliman’s train of thought was violently derailed when a Chaplain of his legion smacked the crying or gaping Ultramarines over their heads with enough force to shake them out of their reverie before dragging them off. Said Chaplain having sprinted to them in record time to gather the crying Marines, hoping to not mess up on his job in front of not just his Gene-Father and Primarch, but the Regent of Terra, the Warmaster _and_ The Emperor of Mankind all in one day.

“Must have been a strange case of transhuman dread…” Said Guilliman warily toward Corvus even as he quickly pushed that train of thought aside for later. Leaving behind the lone Custodes who was scrambling to stand beside the Emperor, the lord of Ultramar began walking toward the landing Ultramarines in order to begin the planning phases for the building of their newest palace. In the already propping up field tents and atmosphere scrubbers, there was much excitement over the new project, happy to work on building instead of sitting around and doing nothing. All the while, the Primarch of those crying marines could only watch as they were dragged away, hoping they would get themselves back together before they decided to blow this all up **again** …

The Emperor walked forth, projecting himself to be heard by all marines and Primarchs, a jovial expression upon his face. “Attention all Marines and Mechanicus personnel! Hey, it’s me, your Emperor. I have brought all of you here to take part in a momentous occasion between all Primarchs and you gathered Legions. Together, I ask all of you to put aside your differences and to help create a new monumental city and palace here on this planet! First one to finish their tasks gets extra pay!”

Many of the Marines stared on in shock for a moment, wondering when the Emperor had changed so… _drastically_.

One of the Imperial Fists nudged his new found Iron Warriors friend “What does pay mean?” the Iron Warrior answered the Fist “Something beasts eat.” The Fist then looked at the Warrior, “What kind of beast, then?”

The Iron Warrior stared at the Fist for a really long time. For a bit, it looked as if the old rivalry was back on, the bitter expression showing the Iron Warrior’s annoyance. Until, finally...

“Uh, I don’t know.”

Both the Fist and Warrior decided to ask one of the nearby Ultramarines for a solution. Said Ultramarine answered them without even looking, “Some type of animal that goes fast and screams a lot.”

“What type doesn't?” Argued the Iron Warriors even as they all spotted a group of landing White Scar Space Marines, no doubt scouts for the future buildings.

They decided to go ask them instead. They would surely know.

**...**

After the fooling around was over and more Astartes began arriving along with Mechanicum elements, the massive machinery that would be needed to terraform a world from Exterminatus taking stable orbit as it deployed on and above the main planet. Assignments were given and the Marines were set to work. 

The Primarchs Rogal Dorn and Perturabo ordered their finest Warmasons to work with all due diligence as they began construction on the Palace with their personal oversight, while their remaining Legionnaires worked on the surrounding area. The Emperor allowed his lone Custodes to aid them when needed, even adding his own surprisingly extensive amount of insights on their building plans.

As the supplies trickling in grew from the barest minimum to an absolute tide, Roboute’s talents for such things quickly became evident. Devoid from his ability to perform such logistical miracles at the Triumph of Ullanor, he set out to prove himself. It wasn’t long before the massive supply lines were flowing like finely oiled cogitators. Supply bays were built and stocked. Massive orbital forges of the Mechanicus were lit and began to produce the absolute plethora of things needed to build a Palace of this magnitude and restore a planet to full working order.

Inside of these forges labored Ferrus Manus, him and his Forgefathers working tirelessly to maintain the rigorous standards of all the needed components for a Fortress befitting of the Imperial Family. Vulkan and Fulgrim aided in this, working into a rhythm the three could only understand. Bringing out the truest of perfection in their respective crafts.

All the while, the _Phalanx_ stood guard over the planet as if it were a mother eagle over its nest of hatching eggs, daring any woodby predator to try and break its formidable defences. To ensure the building of this project remained safe and secure, Corvus and Konrad worked together from the vessel, using it as a base, each of them patrolling the long and desolate routes of the Badab sector with their respective Gene-Sons for any potential foes.

As this was going on, the Luna Wolves, Space Wolves and some small amounts of World Eaters began to trickle down onto the surface below of the quickly changing world, making good use of the forming battle arena to spar and have friendly duels between each other in the sand and marble covered floors.

The Warmaster oversaw it all with stern eyes. Paying close attention to all of the fights and Legionnaires that joined the sparing from the other legions.

He made well sure that the legions finally started getting along. Each seeing the benefits of their respective Legions and eventually beginning to even share their culture amongst each other.

After a while, Leman joined his brother Horus with a barrel of Mjöd underneath his arm. The two sharing a mug of the beverage, Leman doing most of the drinking as Horus, to the worry of his present sons, and laughter of the Space Wolves, almost coughed up his lungs. Afterwards, the two engaged in various duels, attracting many onlookers as they practically always ended in a tie.

Eventually, the last of the World Eaters came to the Badab Sector, Kharn himself carrying their young Lord under an arm. Ragio forgetting the misfortunes of his… _eventful_ trip with his Fathers legion as he was quickly awed by the growing greenery of the world. As such, he soon wandered off into the growing forests in search of new plants, finding the Apothecaries of the other legions there scanning the environment and joining them in an attempt to learn more about the healing arts.

Not far off was Magnus, meditating on the world and vaguely attempting to grasp at his long gone brother's spirit. All the while he was attempting to bring the world into a better balance, he could feel his Father checking in on occasion and nudging him in the right direction. 

His focus broke for a moment as he was soon joined by another. One who appeared to be looking around in a bit of a nostalgic haze.

“Lord Sigillite?” Asked Magnus even as the Regent of Terra reached him and braced himself on his staff.

“What is it Magnus?” Responded Malcador in a kindly voice.

“It seems as if you are familiar with this world.”

Malcadors old wrinkled face formed a small smile as he spoke. “This world? No. This **type** of world? Oh yes. It reminds me of how Terra once was, so long ago.” The Sigillites smiled at the nostalgia as he remembered a long forgotten past.

“This is how it looked?” Asked Magnus in a surprised tone from his cross legged position on the grassy ground, all the while looking around himself and feeling surprised at just how **clean** the air was. Not unlike Caldera, but somehow even cleaner... One could forget these things if he was only stuck on a ship full of recycled air or a Hive World like Terra.

“Oh yes. Quite beautiful isn’t it?” Asked Malcador as he looked at the now forming tree line, in the distance could be heard the faint rumbling sound of the massive Mechanicus machines that were re-vitalizing the earth and were thus the source of all this greenery even as the absolutely massive atmosphere scrubbers hovered above them in low orbit. “On Terra, there used to be massive forests along mountains that reached towards the skies. Wide deserts with rolling dunes of sand, lands covered in lakes and frozen snow… and Oceans, covering over most of the planet, as deep as any mountain with countless wildlife teeming in their depths. Terra was the most beautiful planet I have ever known.”

Magnus took one last deep breath before closing his eyes and slipping back into his meditative state. Feeling more calm then he had in a long long time even as the Sigillite smiled and walked off to find the Emperor, the nostalgia being too much to bear.

Further away, the oceans were being cleaned of the radiation that had infested them for so long, and the Khan had just rode up to them on his Jetbike before dismounting it and walking down to the bank before the sea.

“Enjoying the view, are you brother?” Asked Sanguinus from above as he swooped in and flapped his angelic wings as he landed besides Jaghatai.

Jaghatai’s face was unchanged but his body language betrayed how he was truly feeling. “Growing up on Mundus Planus I shouldn’t be surprised that such massive bodies of water exist. I have seen them countless times before, but they always seem to amaze me.” Spoke the Khan as his brother slowly nodded.

“Had he lived, our brother would have truly been blessed with the beauty of this world. It reminds me quite well of some of the paintings my gene-sons so like to make. Quite picturesque it is, I shall admit.” Said the Angel even as he leaned on the Khan’s Jetbike.

“Ugh, all I have been hearing is how damnably beautiful this world is since the moment the terraforming began to take effect.” Spoke Mortarion as he stepped from the nearby woods, the loud sound of his respirator giving him away long before he ever spoke a word. “It’s been weeks already! Can’t people talk about something else?”

“Don’t be so draconian brother!” Lorgar called out as he walked by from the direction of the bank. “I have been told that most of the chemicals being used in the terraformers are of your own make! Quite effective I see.” Spoke Lorgar as he came to stand besides his three brothers.

Mortarion was slightly taken aback. “My make? They were never designed to-” Then it hit him. He suddenly knew why his Father had asked for them right before they had begun the Terraforming.

“Impossible…” He whispered, his pale skin and eyes widening in surprise even as he deepened his thoughts. The chemicals his father had asked for were for his own respirator...strange that he had managed to pull the restoring elements out of it and make a powerful enough concoction to do all of this but… well “best” Terran Biologicus in the galaxy his father was he suddenly wasn’t as surprised anymore.

“I agree with Lorgar on this one.” Said Sanguinus as he let his wings spread out and relax behind him. “It is relaxing… and a marvel.”

All of the present Primarchs, even Mortarion had to agree with that. The world was a wondrous sight. “I still don’t forgive him.” Mortarion stubbornly refused to give the Emperor a chance. A sentiment that many shared.

“Yes, we share the same idea, brother.” Sanguinius diplomatically spoke, “However, can we not put aside our anger at Father for but a few weeks? He was correct in bringing us here, telling us about Johanuss and giving us a needed break from our work.” He did not have to tell their brother that he would rather they not fight on their brother’s burial world.

...that really wasn’t a pleasant thought. Sanguinius cleared his throat, looking to the rest of his brothers. “We should name the planet.”

Lorgar shrugged, “I suppose? What did you have in mind?”

“I am unsure, the idea came to me that we should rename the planet. I doubt that it holds an official name any longer in Imperial records.” Sanguinius thought it over, “What name currently graces the planet? That Father remembers?”

Jaghatai supplied the information, “A random string of numbers and letters. However, one of the twin moons is called Scotonia, perhaps we could rename it in the same spirit as that?”

Mortarion wanted to wave it off, he wanted to ignore the small details of this planet. What stopped him was the feeling that he was being watched.

“Well, Father wants us to bond and use this place as a way to vow to each other that family comes first. Perhaps we could name it after such a feeling?” Lorgar thought, then clapped his hands together, “Salutis! For good wishes, salvation and prosperity.”

“That certainly sounds better than random numbers and letters.” Sanguinius jested, dodging a punch from Lorgar with some barely concealed laughter. “I am more than happy calling this planet, Salutis.”

“Good. I’m attached to the name now and wouldn’t take a no.” Lorgar grinned. “I’ll go ahead and tell Father and inform the Administratum.”

The Khan shrugged, he had no names to give and frankly, he liked the name as well.

Sanguinius’ mind was slightly nudged as he felt a psychic message from his Father being pushed in his direction.

“Father has just sent me a message.” He spoke plainly and without artifice as his brothers turned to face him.

“Our quarters, and the viewing room are prepared.”

**_...  
Meanwhile, on another world of absolutely no importance_ **

**++If you somehow are seeing this, please report yourself to the nearest Arbites for immediate sentencing++  
...  
**

“Oi, Allison! Get these to table eight, yeah?”

“Right, right, Toly, keep your pants on.” The waitress heaved the plates from the pass and started to make her way to table eight, passing by the different groups in the small, quaint diner.

Many of the customers were the men working in the local garrisons while some came from the Lord General’s Garrison in the main city that came out this far on long range patrols. Some of the men were from the local town, coming to unwind for lunch before heading back to the fields. Few were the ladies who happened to have time from their busy schedules in the offices or doing transport. A few were even in plain clothes, off duty. Most of them she recognised as officers or above in rank.

Really, the diner was a great place to see all kinds of people and hear all kinds of information.

“Two grox burgers and side of Tato wedges, sweeties. Eat up.” The young, blonde, blue eyed waitress smiled at the two handsome Army men who swooned at her attention. “If you two need anything, just holler, now.”

“Yes ma’am.” The soldiers echoed, digging in with a smile.

She sauntered back to the counter, checking over her station. Above, the holocaster was blaring some propaganda that she chose to ignore, as usual. She had gotten all the useful information out of that thing decades ago.

Imperium this, Crusade that. The Emperor shat out sunshine from His royal ass. Whoever the Emperor was, He never showed his face. In fact, He seemed almost Anathema to that.

And so too did the so-called Primarchs. Sure, there were supposedly drawings to be shown, but she sure as shit didn’t see any make it to the backwater that was Molech.

Besides, she doubted that they were people that were 3 meters tall on the average.

She huffed again at the thought. She couldn’t deny that whatever and however the Imperium was taking back the galaxy, it was getting more and more stable.

The “Age of Strife” as they called it now, had some seriously bad effects on her head. But for the most part, she was left unscarred. And none of the soldiers or people who since came to the world even knew what that age was, and especially not what happened.

All she got out of it was that everything went to hell. As He predicted…

_“Why can’t I go with you?” She asked him, face buried in his chest as they lied together._

_He held her tightly, sighing as he buried his face into her hair. “It’s for the best. You will be safe here. That, I can promise you.”_

_She hugged him tightly, not wanting him to leave. “I love you, you idiot.”_

_He was gone before she woke, leaving her alone on Molech._

But if the galaxy was getting back on its feet, and Humanity was beginning to unite again, where was He?

The Emperor, whoever the jackass was, had to either be perpetual like herself or led by an organization capable of rejuvenation. There was no way he would still be alive at this point otherwise.

The more she dug into Him in what little ways she could, being stuck on this planet, the _less_ she found out. Whoever was covering the bastards back was doing it well.

“Oi, love, can you turn it up? There’s some news goin’ on up there.” A soldier at the counter asked her. She obliged, giving the soldier a dazzling smile and watching as her tip jar just got a bit fuller. The news might be giving something of note this time, she hoped it did.

Seeing that it was just a view of what she now recognised as the Imperial Palace on Earth, she instead turned her attention to pouring a glass of rotgut for some of the off duty soldiers.

“ _Ladies and gentlemen of the Imperium, my name is Bradley Keeler._ ” The reporter on the screen above her smiled. “ _We are here at the Lion’s Gate spaceport, where the Emperor along with the rest of the Primarchs have_ **_just_ ** _landed._ ” 

That caused her to raise her eyebrows in surprise as she looked up and every single person in the diner came to a halt to look at the screen.

“ _And here comes the Emperor-_ ” The reporter spoke, seeing the massive form of the ruler of _all Mankind_ begin to descend the ramp. “ _-and as we can see, escorting him is the newly appointed Warmaster…_ ”

The words trailed off into thin air for her.

Her mind stretched that inkling of time. That fraction of a second, when the Emperor gazed at the holorecorder, it stretched it into what felt like eternity.

She would recognise that face anywhere. If it woke her up and she was blind, she would recognise it.

The long, flowing locks of black hair. The handsome face, beholden of the people of ancient Anatolia. The hue of His skin, a dark tan with a hint of golden sheen.

And the eyes. The eyes she stared into so much and for so long…

Time came back to her as she suddenly realized that she had overfilled the glass, spilling the rotgut.

“Shit.” She swore, reaching for a rag to hastily wipe up her mess, seemingly lucky that her boss was also ensnared with the news report.

“ _And I believe we are seeing a baseline with the Primarchs, escorting what looks like a child-_ ” The reporter paused for a second. “ _-the child of the Lion, Lord of the first legion himself! Spitting image if I do say so myself! While we cannot see said Primarch amongst the procession, it is indeed a glorious sight nonetheless._ ”

So… the Primarchs. They did serve Him. And they had offspring-

“ _We are now approaching his majesty._ ” The reporter quickly approached the secure corridor of Custodes “ _Your majesty, my Lord Warmaster._ ” He asked as he bowed slightly, before stretching out a vox receiver towards the Emperor and Horus, who looked at him with a bemused, and serious expression. “ _Any comments about your return here? Why the entire family…_ ”

Family...

Family.

**Family.**

**FAMILY!?**

What… how… why… when…

Her mind looped that particular word until she felt sick.

He… He _left_ her here.

Abandoned her…

Started up an Empire…

And began a family…

And left her to **rot…**

“ _It appears as if the Emperor, along with the Primarchs are being greeted by the Lord Regent, Malcador the Sigilite himself, along with the Captain-General of the Legio Custodes, Constantin Valdor at the gates_.”

The holoreporter’s words were nothing more than the final nail in the coffin.

She didn’t even bother looking up to check and see if Malcador was actually, truly, standing there.

At that very moment, she had had enough.

And the wheels began to grind, as it all finally clicked.

So great was her anger, the door to the diner was thrown open by her raging psychic wave, sending napkins, silverware and plates of food into the air before it all came crashing down to the floor. All of the diner’s patrons were looking around for the cause of the wave of wind that caused such destruction, all while she stood at her station in barely concealed fury.

“Toly.” She spoke softly, the rural accent that she had adopted suddenly gone.

“Yes, Allison?” Her employer asked, finally able to tear away his look from the holocaster.

“I quit. I’ll take whatever wages are left for me.” She began to take off her apron even as Toly recoiled in surprise.

“Well… you did say in your contract that this might happen.” He sighed. “Fine, I’ll get the afternoon shift in here. Sad to see you leave.” The middle aged man left to collect her pay.

She merely nodded even as he opened the register and began to count the thrones that he owed her. “So. Where are you off to in such a hurry?” He asked even as he nodded his head at the holocaster’s direction. “That inspire you to join up with the Army?” He chuckled.

“Yes. In a way.” She grinned, in her mind it was like going off to war. A war to beat the face in of her stupid husband who left her behind on a backwater planet while he ran around and larped his space Roman Empire!

Toly nodded sullenly. “Lost my boy to the Army before I landed on this dustball. Just keep your head out and stay out of the worst war zones and you should be fine.” He chuckled, bitter memories biting. “I think you can find a transport to the main base if you tell the soldiers on patrol that you are joining up.”

“Yes, thank you Toly. I will keep your words under consideration.” She gave the older man a smile as she left the diner. She had to walk to the base, knowing that if she didn’t she would get lost in thought and when she got lost in thought she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from not going ballistic.

The sooner she found him, the sooner she could beat his stupid perfect face in.

A few hours after she left the dinner, two figures dressed in relatively plain clothing entered the diner and approached the bar.

“What can I get you gentlemen?” Toly strode up.

“Information.” One of the figures spoke quietly even as he showed the man the personal sigil of the Lord Regent, causing Toly’s eyes to go wide.

“Agents of the Throne?” He asked in a shused voice even as he poured a drink for himself. “Out this far on a dustheap like this?”

The agent ignored him even as the other one took over. “We have heard that you have in your employ a woman. Relatively short, blonde hair, fair skin, blue eyes.”

Toly shook his head. “Allison. And _had_ , just up and quit on me a few hours ago.”

“Did she say why?”

Toly slammed down the drink of rotgut that he poured for himself. “Said she wanted to join up. Inspired by seeing the Emperor and the Primarchs on the holocast earlier today.”

The agents immediately looked at each other, before turning around and bolting for the door. Not another word said even as dread settled in their stomachs as they had just realized something.

Alivia Sureka was going to kill the Emperor.


	19. Wifetales 1 - Leman throws his bride out a window and they still make a child

The Emperor and Malcador were standing in the newly built viewing room. Made with all of the comforts in mind for long time viewings.

“I must say, Rogal and Perturabo have outdone themselves.” Said Malcador as he seated himself in a comfortable chair, the Emperor following by sitting down in his throne in the center of the room next to Malcador.

“Yup! It’s amazing what those two can do when they set their mind to doing the right thing.”

As the two continued chatting, Magos Lehm walked in with the same projector that was on the Bucephalus. Apparently the Mechanicus was able to repair the damage and put it back together. The Magos too seemed to be sporting some new augments.

As soon as the Magos began to set up the projector, Horus and Leman walked in, followed by Fulgrim and Ferrus. Vulkan supposedly staying up in the massive orbital forges of the Mechanicus due to still working on something.

“How about we test it out?” Asked the Emperor, as he strode over to a bookshelf that was still in the process of being filled with the vids.

“Fine with me, just make sure it isn’t something the others won’t miss father.” Said Horus even as he took his seat on a throne.

“Will do!” Said the Emperor even as he began scanning the labels with his psychic powers.

“And pick something that won’t embarrass me again please will ya father?” Shouted Leman from the other end of the room, having just finished ordering a drink at the bar and the bartender servitor began to pour him a tankard of Mjod.

“I won’t mind no matter what it is to be honest.” Said Ferrus as he and Fulgrim took a seat together on their massive thrones.

“Found something!” Said the Emperor as he stood back from the bookshelf and lifted up a holotape that had the title of “Hrist’s Wyrd”.

“Fenrisian? Aye now were going somewhere!” Said Leman even as he plopped himself down on his wooden throne, the tankard of Mjod in hand.

The Emperor then gave the holotape to the Magos who, after a quick litany of activation and prayer for a good feed, played the vid on the projector.

**...  
197.M42 - Fenris, _The Fang_  
...  
**

The Halls of the Fang rang with trepidation.

A mysterious traveler had appeared at the Fortress Monastery’s massive entry gates and the Wolves were perplexed at just who was crazy enough to be able to land on Fenris and then approach the Space Marine’s home.

A massive bang echoed as the travelers massive armored fists rapped on the gate and the Wolf Guard was sent to investigate. As the ancient gates of the Fang creaked open, the Wolf Guard was quick to accost the stranger.

“WHO DARES TO-”

Started one of the Wolves before quickly falling quiet at noticing the behemoth of a Primarch standing before him.

Leman: “About bloody time I showed up again to straighten up these bunch of milksops!”  
Fulgrim: “I do agree that your sons seem to have fallen a bit out of line since the time you disappeared.”  
Malcador: “Fallen out of line? Gone full on furry more like it…”

“Fa...Father?” Asked another of the Wolf Guard in a trembling voice as the stranger lowered his Wolf Skin cowl to reveal the weathered old and scarred face of Leman Russ.

“Aye. And who are ye? Ye snarling so called wolves?”

Responded the Primarch, his deep and commanding voice causing all of the present Space Wolves to kneel in front of their gene-father. Their pride and honor being all but forgotten in the presence of a demigod and the Russ.

“I am Wolf Lord Ragnar Blackmane my Primarch.” He spoke as he came closer, wanting to bear witness to his Primarch.

Humbly spoke the much younger Space Marine to his gene-father, every bit of his enhanced transhuman senses causing him to be at complete awe in this moment.

Russ strode past him and soon more of the Space Wolves began to appear in the entry hall, even the chapter’s serfs began popping up in a desperate attempt to catch a glimpse at the Primarch.

It wasn’t long before the current Great Wolf, Logan Grimnar himself appeared and bowed before Russ in his heavy terminator plate.

The Primarch was quick to grasp his scion by the shoulders and lift him as easily as if he weighed nothing. A quick embrace of brotherhood followed and every person in the presence of the Emperor’s son was overcome with emotion.

Ferrus: “Your brotherhood with your own gene-sons is remarkable brother.”  
Leman: “Well thanks! I did try and be a good example.”  
Emperor: “You did admittedly do a fairly good job by the looks of things.”

Then the time followed of when the Iron Priests remembered an old promise and went to awaken the most ancient of Astartes who still served the chapter.

The talks and chatter were cut as the heavy telltale stomping of a Dreadnought was heard off in distance of the Fang’s massive halls. In a matter of minutes, the Venerable Dreadnought that was Bjorn the Fell-Handed appeared around the corner, somehow making this moment an even more awe inspiring one as both Primarch and Gene-son merely stared at each other for a moment. It was Russ that finally broke this silence.

“Bjorn? Yer still alive? Ya old bastard! Come’ere!”

Spoke Russ as he spread his arms wide open in a massive gesture of gratitude and welcoming.

Leman: “Bloody hell, to live for ten thousand years!”  
Malcador: “It is admittedly a challenging feat, at least he seems un-touched by all this furry nonsense.”

“Not as alive as when you left, my Primarch.”

Spoke Bjorn as he approached and Leman’s massive armoured hands wrapped around Bjorn’s Thunder Claws in a sign of renewed brotherhood.

“But more than anyone here! Yer the only one who hasn’t bleedin shit himself at the sight of me!” Spoke Russ in a cheerful tone as a laugh finally went out.

Leman soon continued with his talk.

“Last I seemed to remember our custom, it says that upon the return of me home there is to be a feast! I can’t help but wonder why I can’t see one at the moment before mine very own eyes?”

Horus: “A feast would a fun idea now and again since we seem to be stuck together on this planet.”  
Emperor: “Hmmm, perhaps you are right. Il contact your brother Roboute into organising one just as he is done with the logistics of the supply lines.”  
Malcador: *Facepalms* “Great… there goes more time…”  
Fulgrim: “Do not worry Lord Sigillite, we can use this as a political advantage at the very least.”  
Malcador: “I thank you for your encouragement Fulgrim, but I know for a fact that is not what we will be able to do in the end…”

With those words, the Space Wolves and Serfs flew into a collective flury as Bjorn continued walking with Leman to the Fang’s largest Mead hall, un-used since the day Leman had left his sons.

…

A woman in heavy armor, carrying a halberd and bearing the insignia of the Fenrisian Valkyries was the one who kicked open the doors to the feasting hall. Many Marines wanted to get up and demand for her to explain herself, but after the losses they suffered from her and the amount of Mjod they drunk and tables they had already broken that night, none had the guts or care to get up to challenge her. This suited her just fine.

She sauntered in, slightly offended the wolves didn’t invite her to the feast! Whose face is she going to have to beat in for this?!

Passing by tables laden with food, she couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride when the Blood Claws that were in attendance partially cowed and/or scowled in front of her and even the elder Wolves giving her death glares. She has shown she is strong, so… Fuck them.

Emperor: *Whistles* “One strong woman.”  
Malcador: “More like stubborn.”  
Fulgrim: “But quite-”  
Leman: “Pretty, aye all Valkyries tend to be.”

But she did see someone she hasn’t seen before, some grizzled, tall, robed and armored and bloody massive wolf with wild white colored hair and a beard. She thought for a second, wondering why she felt a small sense of foreboding when she started making her way to him, standing across from him on the other side of the feasting table. In hindsight, maybe seeing him surrounded by all of the old Wolves and even the Dreadnought Bjorn from all of the Sagas at his side, should have given her a better idea on how fucked she would be…

But Hrist wasn’t the most intelligent of people, so in hindsight, she definitely deserved it.

Horus: “Oh no…”  
Ferrus: “Actions do have consequences.”

Stopping and standing before him, she could only stand him not looking at her and continuing to stuff his face before she barked out at him, “HEY!”

Leman stopped, a nice, juicy venison chop just inches away from his waiting mouth before he looked at her, as if he just now acknowledged her existence. “...What do ye want lass?” He asked in a slightly annoyed tone. Wanting to chow down on what was finally good food for the first time in millennia.

Hrist crossed her arms, looking straight into the eyes of the massive Wolf, making Leman actually feel just the smallest hint of intrigue. Not very many people in the galaxy had the gall and pure auromite BALLS to look a Primarch in the eyes and not flinch. She barked at him again, “Who the fook was the one to throw a feast around here and didn’t invite me!? And who the fook are ye!?”

*The family look at Leman in expectation of a reaction, finding that his eyes are wide with surprise.*

The noise level in the hall lowered until it was dead silent, all Wolves staring openly at the two. Many were praying that the Primarch would be the one to overthrow the arrogant and too strong Valkyrie from her pedestal. Hopefully. Others were afraid he would accidentally or just straight up kill her for disturbing his welcome home feast.

The old man looked back and straight into her eyes with such an intense transhuman stare that for the first time since Hrist could remember, she felt a tingle of fear go up her back. It only increased in intensity as the man began to speak.

“I, am the Primarch of the Vlka Fenryka, the Wolf King of Fenris, the VIth son of the Emperor, and his own personal Executioner.”

In that moment of absolute armour soiling terror, Hrist spoke the first thing that came to her mind, in the most eloquent way possible. “YER DON’T SOUND SO TOUGH!”

Leman: “Wot?”  
Emperor: “What?”  
Horus: “What?”  
Fulgrim: “Impossible she has to be-”  
Malcador: “Crazier than an insane asylum detainee.”  
Ferrus: “And quite stupidly brave.”

The entire Mead hall fell into silence as Leman’s eyes went wide with surprise.

“Wait… wot?” He spoke even as she began running toward him.

“YER THINK YOUR SO TOUGH?! TAKE THIS!” She screamed as she launched herself into the air, flying like a straight missile toward the Primarch. Leman quickly pushed away Grimnar who was on his left and waved off Bjorn who was on his right as Hrist’s full 300 pound armoured self smashed against the Primarch as if he was a living wall.

As she lay on the ground in front of him, sprawled like a stepped on daisy with probably some broken bones, Leman looked down at her from his seated position, never having bothered to get up during the whole ordeal in the first place.

Horus: “I honestly don’t know what she expected.”  
Leman: *Shrugs his shoulders* “I am fully armoured. Though disturbing someone at a feast is just bad practice.”

“Are ye crazy lass? Or have yer just had too much Mjod?” He asked in a slightly pissed off tone even as he reached down with his arm and picked her up before bringing her before his face to get a better look.

There was a certain savage beauty to her face, then again, all Valkyries had that. Leman noted as his eyes carefully scanned the shieldmaiden.

His thoughts were abruptly halted as her hand whipped out at the speed of a lightning bolt and grasped Leman’s beard.

Fulgrim: “My my, she has some skill!”  
Ferrus: “For a baseline her reactions are impressive.”

“YER. AREN’T. SO. TOUGH I SAID!” She practically screamed her lungs off into Leman’s face as the Primarch stared impassively at her.

Leman: “About as impressive as her stubbornness.”

“Yer got some serious grit for a lass, I’ll give yer that.” Admitted Leman, starting to even respect this, most likely, drunk Valkyrie at this point.

Then she started pulling on his beard.

“Now what are yer doing?” He asked in an exasperated tone.

Her other arm flew out in response and punched him in the face.

Leman didn’t even blink.

“Alright Lass if that’s how yer want it.” Said the Primarch as he grabbed her by one of her armored legs and promptly smashed her so hard on the Fenrisian Iron-Oak table that it split in half and she was once again left a sprawled out mess on the floor.

*All of the present family look at Leman for smashing a woman*

Leman: *Looking back unfazed* “What? She asked for it.”

“Now have yer had enough?” Asked Leman in a bored tone. Noting with sadness that his delicious venison chop was sent flying off somewhere.

A sort of Wolf like growl was heard coming from Hrist on the floor as she once again managed to launch herself at Leman. Her armored hands going straight for his throat. She was surprised at why all of her momentum was suddenly gone.

Then she noticed that the Primarch had managed to grab her by her torso.

“So, yer want to play dirty do ya?” He asked even as a feral glint was seen in his eyes. “What about a game of javelins?” He then asked with a toothy grin.

Her face showed shock, then the tiniest bit of fear as she murmured to herself. She did stop to think that possibly… She fucked up. “Oh… shite.”

Leman then promptly threw her so hard and fast that she went flying out of the mead halls grand window over half a kilometer away and down the sloping sides of the Fang. Landing relatively softly in the snows bellow, thanking the gods that it wasn’t Helwinter.

Emperor: “Nice throw son, but try and not kill the next maiden you meet.”  
Leman: “I quite clearly didn’t mean to-”  
Malcador: “Not fooling anyone Leman.”  
Leman: *Wolfgrumble*

As she skidded to a halt, her armoured hands reached up to her heated cheeks as she desperately tried to calm down her rapid heart beat and chase away the tickling sensation that was present in her stomach. No man has ever done that before, so thoroughly beat her and actually didn’t cow to her! Even the Space Marines who were able to keep up with her and yet…

Oh… She has to fight him again!

Then she tried to move and suddenly realized that the man had managed to break what must have been most of the bones in her body. Well, like HELL that was going to stop her! She’s going to get herself fixed up and first chance she gets, she’s going back to challenge him!

...just first she needed to see a Medicae...

Ferrus: “This baselines stubbornness and will is quite impressive.”  
Fulgrim: “Indeed, as we have pointed out multiple times by now. Yet there seems to truly be no limit of it.”

Thankfully, she had been found by her two younger sisters, who were all too happy to help their dear, sweet, gentle and definitely not bone headed elder sister. The two each grabbed a leg and dragged her to the nearest Medicae, intentionally taking all of the stairs and avoiding all of the lifts, all the while berating their dumb ass sister who thought it was a great idea to intrude on a Primarch’s welcome back feast and challenge him to a fight!

“Just be glad we saw you fly by and were able to find you.” Lenneth the middle sister spoke, not even looking back at her elder sister.

“To be fair, Hrist doesn’t really think her actions through…” Silmeria intoned beside her sister, the youngest of the three.

“I hate all of you…” Hrist groaned from the ground, her head hitting a few steps and rattling her teeth. “...mark my words… I’m going to fight that man and I am going to win!” She let out a laugh before she was kicked in the stomach by her little sisters before they dragged her away again.

“Suuuureee, lemme know how fighting a bloody PRIMARCH is going to go for ye.” Lenneth growled at Hrist.

Leman: *Chuckles* “She does have a point.”  
Horus: “Love and infatuation makes people do strange things.”  
Leman: “Wot did you just say?”  
Horus: “Keep watching and you will see what I mean.”

Silmeria only stayed quiet, she saw the look on Hrist’s face. She would smile to herself, knowing her elder sister finally found a man she actually liked… Oh, she can’t wait for the wedding… “I can already hear the priests chanting the wedding songs.” Said Silmeria in a teasing tone as Hrist started up again.

“Fuck you, I won’t ever get married! No man can handle me! I don’t need to get married and getting married is for the low women who can’t handle living without a man and-” And Hrist began to rave about how she didn’t want to get married again for the fifteenth time that day.

She let out a shout of pain as Lenneth shook her right broken arm. “Huh, seems handled if yer ask me.” She spoke as they finally entered the Medicae's area.

Leman: *Laughs* “Got to love Fenrisian humor.”  
Fulgrim: “A bit brutish, but admittedly realistic.”

The second time Hrist challenged Leman was only days after the first try. She had marched into the main Halls of the Aett, determined to find the damn Primarch and challenge him again, honor on the line!

She didn’t look at the palpably smug Space Wolves, they weren’t her concern. She was here to fight the big wolf and erase that smudge on her battle record! Fuck him! She wants a rematch-

…

AGH FUCK! Her whole body aches so badly, but she pushes on. She doesn’t give a shit that the Medicae told her to rest for at least seven weeks, she has to fight this bastard now!

Leman: *Whistles* “Again? What’s keeping her going?”  
Horus: “Keep watching, I have a feeling that we are going to find out.”

He had been in the middle of meeting with some of the old wolves, something about affairs in order or something boring, she didn’t care. She only cared about coming after him again and FIGHTING!

“YOU!” She screamed from the doorway, doing her best to come at him again and hide the tremble in her legs from having to hold her weight. She glared at the Primarch, halberd already drawn (and hopefully no one noticed how much she favored using it to help keep herself standing straight).

Leman could only blink as he took in the form of the same Valkyrie who actually… What was it? Gently caressed his beard? It had to be that, there was no way what she did was anywhere close to being an attack. He did remember throwing her straight through a window though… “And what do ye want, lass? Can’t ye see ah’m busy?”

Hrist growled, wanting to bare her teeth at him. “Don’t you remember me!? We fought during the feast!”

“Ah don’t recall a fight. I recall a drunk Valkyrie’s tender attention before she flew through a window.” Leman chuckled, looking down at her, intentionally trying to get a rise from her. If she was going to interrupt his work, then let him make fun of her for the time.

Emperor: “Tease.”  
Leman: “What? It’s not as if the lass ain’t askin for it.”  
Malcador: “Proper courtship has gone down the drain in ten millennia it seems…”

“TENDER ATTENTION!? AH WAS TRYING TO FIGHT YE, YE DAFT CUNT!”

“Ah, that’s what yer was trying to do! Seemed to me more like ye was trying to polish me armour or fuck me. Ah’ve met more ferocious mice than ye lass.”

Horus: “You have no idea.”  
Leman: “Again, excuse me what?”  
Emperor: “It really is painfully obvious at this point, even to me.”

“Fuck you, you overgrown tube wolf! I am Hrist, eldest daughter of Jarl Vildtik and ah challenge ye to fair combat, you piece of SHIT!”

Leman only blinked once before shrugging, “Sure. Fair combat it is. Here, take this, it will even the odds in yer favor.” He grinned wolfishly before tossing his master crafted power sword, Mjalnar, towards her, aiming to land on her sideways.

Before she could say anything or even accept the sword, it impacted her and threw her to the ground, the damn thing weighed more than her and it effectively pinned her to the ground, with no hope of her to wiggle out from under it. She struggled to get the damn thing off of her, before she let out a loud shriek towards Leman.

“YOU SON OF A TURNIP WHORE GET THIS DAMNED THING OFF OF ME I SWEAR ON MY MUM I WILL TEAR YOUR THROAT OUT WITH MAH TEETH YOU MILK SOP BITCH-”

Emperor: *Puts a hand in front of his mouth to prevent himself from laughing out loud*  
Fulgrim: *Lightly blushing* “Fenrisians sure are creative with their swear words.”

Leman was having a hard time keeping it together at this point, but he knew it would piss her off, so he laughed at her with equal amounts of malice and joviality. “Are ye alright there, lassie? Do ye need someone to come over and help ye up?” He let out a lough, bark of laughter at the situation. This Valkyrie is a real piece of work! A true spit fire who is too stubborn for her own good…

She kicked her legs in defiance, trying to get the thrice damned sword OFF OF HER! “FUCK YOU I DON’T NEED HELP! WHO THE FOOK USES THIS THING ANYWAY!?”

“I regularly use that sword.” Leman spoke in between bouts of laughter.

“WELL FOOK YOU, IT’S TOO HEAVY!”

After a while, she wasn’t able to get the sword off of her and ended up being saved by a couple of Blood Claws, who were more than happy to help her. Leman noted how much schadenfreude they were showing on their faces, when she was being helped by them. Odd, he’ll have to ask about that soon, or maybe never. He can’t deal with every single little problem on Fenris. Especially if it has to do with a certain angry Valkyrie who couldn’t take a bloody hint and came to try and challenge him to combat when she could barely stand up on her own!

Didn’t help that she was shouting all types of obscenities at him as she was being carried away, apparently the weight and all her struggling broke something in her torso and may have ruptured something, but she was still fine enough to scream at him from down the far halls.

What the hell were her lungs made out of?

Hrist had to be chained to her sick bed, her sisters both yelling at her for sneaking out when she was supposed to be resting and going to fight the Primarch! Again! And coming back with even more injuries!

“Are you completely insane!?” Lenneth demanded, her stern blue eyed gaze burning holes into Hrist’s own brown ones. “Do you have any idea how much of an incompetent fool you are to go off and piss off a Primarch!?” The silver haired Valkyrie screamed at her elder sister.

Horus: “Oh she does.”  
Leman: “I’m just about tired of the hints brother.”  
Ferrus: “Even I am starting to see where this is going.”

Silmeria, standing near Hrist and running a hand through Hrist’s wild black locks, sighed as she turned her own brown eyed gaze to her eldest sister. “Hrist, you can’t keep going to fight him. You’re going to get so hurt, you won’t be able to fight anymore. Do you want that?”

Hrist actually pouted as she crossed her arms over her chest, cheeks reddening as she was fully letting the events of earlier hit her. She couldn’t believe she actually ran straight into trouble only days after getting most of her bones broken. Damn her anger, sometimes it just ran away with her sanity…

Silmeria watched her elder sister through her blonde hair, noting how eager she was to still run after the Primarch for a fight, even if she did feel quite sheepish, now with her temper cooled. Oh, her sister has it bad for the Primarch…

“Well, we just need to make sure our sister heals up so she can feel better for her new intended.” Silemeria teased, leaning away when Hrist screeched bloody murder at her and tried to pull at her little sister’s long, curly hair.

“I WILL KILL YOU!”

“No you won’t, you’re stuck in bed. Literally.” Lenneth rolled her eyes, praying that her stupid older sister wouldn’t hurt herself again.

SO OF COURSE SHE DID MUCH LATER.

Malcador: “More stubborn then Revelation on the color of his bed sheets.”

*Snickers from some of the brothers sitting closer to Malcador, knowing their father's love for gold*

To be fair, she didn’t hurt herself until after she was mostly healed. Weird thing with their family, they just seemed to heal faster than usual. But she had been mostly healed by the time three weeks passed, and she snuck away to find the Primarch again.

Hrist found him in his own personal training hall, she had to bludgeon her way through and even say she was there to apologize to him: she would say anything to get to the Primarch and challenge him again!

She didn’t care if his gene-sons were there, she will fight him again!

She paused, standing in the entrance of the training hall. She saw him, muscle bound, massive size, hair upon his body, sweat glistening over him, the pure strength, speed and ferocity he held within him as he moved…

By Fenris, what the fuck was this man doing to her!? Just watching him is making her feel hot and… What the fuck is wrong with her?

She wasn’t sure how it happened anymore. She ran in, yelling at him and demanding him to come over, challenging him yet again for another battle. At this point, she had challenged him about three time already! He was sick of her coming over and trying to fight him!

He growled, threw his weapon down and stomped over to the woman, who was glaring at him straight in the eye. “What the fook do ye want!? This is the third wolfin time ye are coming here ta fight! What will it take ta get it through ye that ye can’t win!?”

Hrist had to calm her wildly beating heart, the presence of this man was almost unbearable! But she stuck through and was too stubborn to turn back now! “FUCK YOU! Ah’m here ta fight and take back my honor! Ah did not fight every man on Fenris, and win, just to have it taken down by ye! So shut your mouth and fight me!” Hrist demanded from him, already trying to start the fight. She swung her halberd at the barely dressed Primarch, nearly mad with rage and her need to regain her honor.

Leman: “Honestly, I don’t know what’s wrong with this Lass!?”  
Horus: “I have this strange feeling that we are about to find out.”

Leman dodged her attacks with ease, exasperated by having the damn woman back here and messing up his schedule again! It was funny the first two times, but now it was just annoying! But he did pause to think about what she said, fight every single man on Fenris? “What the hells are ye on about!? You did not fight every man on Fenris and win. I knew ye were crazy, but now I think it’s finally been confirmed!”

“I did fight every man on Fenris! Every baseline man, I beat, then every Blood Claw, I beat! I have fought against so many of your Wolves, that I refuse to believe that you’re that much stronger than them! Now shut up and fight me!” She bellowed out, still continuing her assault.

Leman glanced at the Space Wolves who were standing guard, confirming his suspicions when they looked away in shame. Holy hells, she actually fought them!? Yep, she’s a crazy bitch in armour.

“Ah’m not gonna fight ye, didn’t the last two times teach ye anything!?” He roared once her halberd got too close to his face for comfort, so he reached down, grabbed her arms and squeezed them until she dropped her halberd. Even after, he didn’t let go and only brought her up to his eye level, the two of them glaring at each other in pure frustration. “Ye can’t win! I’m wearing only trousers and boots, no armor, no weapons, and ah still disarmed ye!”

Hrist struggled in his grasp, kicking her legs out at him, eyes nearly glowing with red rage. “Fuck you! Let me go! Ye haven’t won yet!” She screeched, struggling with all her might.

“LISTEN HERE YE CRAZY BITCH, IF YE DON’T STOP STRUGGLING, AH’LL BREAK EVERY BONE IN YER BODY WITH ME BARE HANDS!”

“YOU’D LIKE THAT, WOULDN’T YOU YOU LIMP DICKED BASTARD! AH WON’T STOP UNTIL AH HAVE WON AGAINST YE!”

“YOU STUBBORN WENCH!”

“YOU DAFT CUNT!”

“YOU TINY BOX OF RAGE!”

“YOU OVERGROWN POTATO!”

“THAT’S NOT EVEN AN INSULT!”

“YER RIGHT, YER FACE DOES ENOUGH FOR ME!”

Malcador/Leman: *Spits out the water/Mjod that he is drinking from the surprise*  
Ferrus: “Congratulations to her on bringing down the verbal hammer.”  
Emperor: *Chuckles* “Good one.”

The two continued to yell incoherently at each other until they finally stopped, breathing heavily as they glared murderous intent to each other. At some point, her helmet fell off and she was bare faced against him, the two of them refusing to break eye contact.

They crashed together only seconds later, her arms wrapping around his neck and his hands holding her tightly against him, not caring how she was still in her full armor. Their lips meshed together, teeth and tongues twisting and battling, even when in a passionate grasp. His strength carried over into the intimate arts, her feeling submission as his scent and touch just seemed to take advantage of her senses.

Leman: *Jaw drops* “Wait… Horus is this what yer-”  
Horus: “Yes, this is what I meant you thick pile of duracrete.”  
Fulgrim: “Leman in love, who knew you had it in you brother?”  
Leman: *Mumbles* “Not wolfin me, that’s for sure.”

Their kiss was rough, it was loud and sloppy with their combined slobber leaking from their mouths, neither cared much for propriety as the two let out loud and animalistic grunts of pleasure from just their kiss.

By the time the two of them pulled away from each other, they were both breathing hard, faces flushed a deep red and eyes dialated. Neither cared that they were in a training hall, neither cared if there were spectators anymore, they just had one thought on their minds.

Fucking.

Emperor: “SKIP MAGOS SKIP SKIP SKIP SKIP-”

The projector launched an empty dataslate at the Emperor, almost scoring a headshot.

Ferrus: “Now you have gone off and made it angry!”

When the vid was done skipping, it landed to the immediate afterglow of the two, lying on the ground of the training hall covered in a cloak from a nearby armor set. They two were breathing heavily, staring up at the ceiling, skin to skin, beside each other.

Leman glanced at the woman next to him, who knew she was a damn hell cat in bed?

Hrist looked away, face entirely red as she tried to not look at Leman. What the fuck was she thinking!?

  


The both of them did think the same thing: “how the fuck did I end up here!?”

Leman: “So I get with a crazy Valkyrie who fought me twice and I ended up fucking on the floor of a training hall!?”  
Horus: “Don’t act so surprised, she’s far from the craziest woman in the galaxy.”  
Leman: “How in the wolfin fuck do you know that!? You just seemed to know exactly where all of this was going as soon as possible!”  
Horus: “I have a lot of experience with women, brother, and honestly it’s-”  
Leman: “How. How do you have so much experience with women? Go ahead, tell me how.”  
Emps: “Yeah, Horus, how do you have so much knowledge? I thought you did have, quote unquote, “time for romance”?”  
Horus: “...that’s not the point here.”  
Fulgrim: “Hmmm? Did you have some sordid detail in your life you don’t want us knowing?”  
Ferrus: “Just say it, it can’t be that bad.”  
Horus: “You want me to say it? Fine. I’ll say it. I have fucked thousands of women during the Great Crusade! More than thousands! Why do you think I have so many compliances under my belt!? Both figuratively and literally! Not because I have been doing it longer, but the sheer amount of planets with female leaders who would comply if I FUCKED THEM RAW IN THEIR OWN BEDS AND PUMPED THEM FULL OF MY GENE-SEED. Is that what you wanted me to say!?”  
Malcador: “I already knew that and yet this somehow made it worse.”  
Leman: “Too much detail brother. I need more ale before we can get into the details.”  
Horus: “What?”  
Leman: “Yer think your the only one whos fucked hundreds of women?”  
Horus: “First of all, I said thousands-”  
Emperor: “Jaghatai has more children than that.”  
Fulgrim: “I have had multiple wives.”  
Leman: “And I have had hundreds of MAIDENS in the Aett! You have no idea how much different Fenrisian women are compared to standard ones! It’s like riding a thunderwolf whilst your trying to tame it!”  
Horus: “Does no one care that I have quite literally whored myself out for the good of the Great Crusade?”  
Ferrus: “It does not beat Jaghatai’s record.”  
Emperor: “I do, Horus, I’m disappointed you had to get to that point and felt that was the right decision. I can only imagine it was my own lack of humanity that made you think this was right.”  
Horus: “Huh, well thank you Father.”  
Emperor: “But it’s not as if I haven’t done the same for over thirty thousand years.”

*Family groan*

Horus: “Some things are destined to never change.”


	20. Wifetales 2 - The key to a mans heart is through his stomach and copius amounts of yelling

As the family finished agreeing with Horus on the fact that in some ways the Emperor would never change, messages started coming in. The first one was for Leman and said something about the Luna Wolves, Space Wolves and World Eaters beginning the preparations for a feast... A feast which would involve a lot of Mjod.

All of the present Primarchs shuddered slightly at the thought of drunk World Eaters. Leman very quickly used this as an excuse to go and perform a personal check up on his legion, his ego still slightly bruised from watching him and his future wife “flirt” with each other and how he didn’t notice it until the last seconds.

Then came the message for Fulgrim and Ferrus, Vulkan went on a well deserved break and the two were needed once more up on the Orbital forges. They both got up, said their goodbyes, and chatted avidly as they strode out of the viewing room and down the corridor toward the hastily built landing pad.

Even as the Emperor was about to suggest that they disband back to their posts as the viewing room was seemingly in full working order, the tell tale heavy stomping of terminator armour was heard in the corridor outside of the room and a few seconds later in came Vulkan.

“Ah Vulkan!” Said the Emperor in a greeting, “We were about to go back to our posts.”

Vulkan stopped walking. “Ah, it is a shame. I had hoped to see a vid with all of you.” The look Vulkan had on his face made the Emperor reconsider his choice for a second.

“Well, I suppose another vid couldn’t hurt.” Everyone in the room could hear Malcador’s sanity snap again even as the Sigillite grumbled and took out a datapad, hopefully he could get some work down on his own.

Vulkan smiled and took a seat on one of the massive thrones in the room even as the Emperor got up and began to once more look through the massive amount of vids on the bookshelf. “What should it be about?” He asked even as he began combing through the vids.

“Might as well continue the trend and make it about one of our future wives.” Said Horus nonchalantly. “I believe Leman called it a “wifetale””.

“That sounds interesting!” Came a yell from outside of the room even as Sanguinius swooped in with his wings through one of the massive windows that lead into the room from the outside.

“Welcome brother! I agree, it does sound like an interesting tale.” Said Vulkan even as Sanguinius folded his wings and headed toward his throne which was by the one that Horus sat on. He also politely inclined his head toward the Sigillite who was now working on his datapad before taking his seat and beginning a light conversation with Horus.

“Were you able to find a break during your work, brother?” Horus asked Sanguinius.

Sanguinius shrugged, “I believe I had the lightest workload of all of us. I got to help survey the rest of the planet with Jaghatai. Eventually, I fell behind, since I can’t fly as fast as he rides. So I came back here to see what all of you were doing.”

“Sitting here and doing nothing but watching vids.” Malcador spoke, the Ph level of the air lowered ever so slightly at this.

“They have to be here somewhere!” Exclaimed the Emperor from the bookshelf. The Primarch’s noticed that he was now buried quite literally up to his torso in vids.

“I sorted them by length and possible importance.” Explained Roboute Guilliman as he entered the viewing room, surrounded by more than a dozen serfs which were all noting down or listening to the orders that the Ultramarines Primarch was giving out.

“Thanks son!” Responded the Emperor even as he dug deeper.

Horus then turned away from his conversation with Sanguinus to face his newly arrived brother.

“How come you are here brother? Doesn't your logistics network require your attention?” Asked Horus, ever the Warmaster who looked out for the legions.

Guilliman took his seat on a throne and waved away the last serf with some orders before stretching out his legs and answering Horus.

“Even I admit that such a massive scale operation is tiring and so I am in need of a break. But Perturabo and Rogal seem to have all the supplies that they need for now.”

“Are the Iron Warriors and Imperial Fists still somehow getting along?” Asked Malcador from his seat, never once looking up from his datapad.

“Surprisingly yes. I didn’t even have any problems with distributing the supplies equally between-”

“Bagh! Everyone is getting along just fine and dandy.” Roboute was cut off by the telltale respirator filtered voice of his brother Mortarion, who had just strode into the room through the main door.

“I spent the last three hours studying as to how father converted my breathing chemicals into rejuvenation serums and haven’t found one damn clue…”

He further spoke even as he took a seat. “What are we even planning to watch?” He asked as he looked toward the Emperor who was now literally swimming in vids, Mortarion throwing himself onto a throne and relaxing back into it as best he could.

“Got one!” Said the Emperor as he stood up with a vid labeled “The Way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.”

“Sounds incredibly boring.” Spoke Mortarion even as Sanguinius gave him a partial smile.

“Sounds heartwarming you mean?”

“No, boring, what is so great about cooking?”

“I guess the point is moot when you can’t actually eat anything normally.” Tuned in Horus even as Mortarion scowled at him.

“I can ingest nutrients orally. I just prefer to do so intravenously, it’s quicker and more efficient.”

“But can you truly taste it?” Chimed in Vulkan even as Mortarion looked toward the ground with a plain face.

“No… I suppose not, the chemicals which allow me to breathe are also a dulling agent.”

“One day I will have to fix that my son. If all things go to plan, probably soon.” Spoke the Emperor even as he took his seat in the middle of the room, having given the vid to Magos Lehm. Mortarion gave his father a confused look even as Magos Lehm started up the projector and the Vid began playing.

**...  
M42.167 - Nocturne, A certain communal home  
...  
**

Sanguinius: “Oh! So it takes place about 56 years after the end of the Indomitus crusade?”  
Roboute: “Seems so.”

“WHAT?!”

That word again. It rung around the household practically daily now with the source of it being a teenage girl by the name of Kai. She was always called feisty for the age of 14, but the time of puberty finally dawning on her only made it way way worse.

“Honey, you need to have something to do! You can’t just spend all day in your room like a young child! It’s time for you to start working!” Kai’s mother lectured her as she dragged herself down the stairs.

Vulkan: "Ah! It is about Kai! I remember her from before!"  
Emperor: "Yeah, I remember that too."  
Roboute: "She's already being tasked to work for the family?"  
Vulkan: “That is typical. Once children are no longer children, they are expected to start working for the household.”  
Horus: “Not much time to be kids?”  
Vulkan: “It’s not as if we make them do back breaking labor! It’s mostly to help the home in any way they can. The bonds between family members is the most important part of Nocturnean society.”  
Emperor: “Reminds me of old Terra. Even my old home, I was expected to work for the home as well.”  
Malcador: “It makes sense, I did too.”

“It won’t even be long now before you will be married, then I will finally have some grandkids to look aft-”

“UGHHHHH!”

The sound of annoyance that came from Kai was almost ear shattering and caused a frown to appear on her mother’s face.

“You know what? You can sulk in the kitchen!” With those words, her mother grabbed Kai by her hand and dragged her unwilling ass straight to the kitchen. Before Kai knew it, she had a spoon in one hand and was standing above a massive pot of stew. Nocturnean families tended to be quite big after all and hers wasn’t the exception.

She however knew how it would taste just by looking at it.

“It smells as if somebody strung up drake leather, pissed all over it and then let it dry…” She muttered to herself as she found two cloths to quickly get rid of the “stew”. It’s not as if much was lost. Her mother never really bothered learning how to cook and just threw some vegetables into boiling water with salt.

Vulkan: *doesn’t move, still smiling, but most can see his colors fade just slightly*  
Roboute: “...I don’t think most baselines would be able to live off of that.”  
Sanguinius: “Y-you’d be surprised…” *shudders*  
Emperor: “Oh hush, all of you. If your mother makes something for you to eat, you eat it. Even if it tastes bad. All children need to learn that, it’s like I spoiled all of you.”  
Mortarion: “You didn’t even raise us, except Horus.”  
Horus: “And look how well I turned out.”  
Malcador: “Yeah, you ended up almost becoming an arch traitor because daddy didn’t give you enough attention and became a man-whore for the Great Crusade.”  
Sanguinius, Roboute, Vulkan and Mortarion: **“WAIT WHAT”  
** Malcador: “Yup. Horus here admitted to all of us not too long ago that he has been whoring himself out for the Great Crusade and that’s how he’s got so many worlds under his belt. So to speak.”  
Sanguinius: “HORUS! WHY!?”  
Horus: “IT JUST HAPPENED ALRIGHT CAN WE NOT TALK ABOUT MY LOVE LIFE!?”  
Roboute: “Wow. Way to take the ‘Hor’ in your name to another level-” *realizes he just made a dad joke* “-uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuugggggghhhhhhhh”  
Emperor: “YES! ANOTHER! I’M SO PROUD OF YOU ROBOUTE!”  
Horus: “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-”

She made her way to the ice box and got out some meat. By pure instinct she browned it a bit, added handfuls of spices as it cooked before pouring some water over it…

Hmmm… Now that she thinks about it, why not also add in more? Not just meat, but some vegetables and some herbs- oh! What about some of this and that… Maybe some of this…

Before long, Kai was practically gliding through the kitchen, working more and just letting herself create something better through her own efforts. It was coming out well, but it’s not like it’s anything special or anything...

Hours later, as soon as Kai entered the dining room, which was filled with almost a dozen members of her family, she went to the center of the big dining table and slammed down the pot. By pure instinct slapping away any hands which attempted to grab the ladle as she took each individuals bowl and filled it with a good amount of stew before handing it back to them. She finally poured herself a bowl before slopping it up quickly, not content with how bland the thing still was in her opinion. She went for the ladle in an attempt to get another spoonful in order to taste what to change but was surprised to find the massive pot completely empty.

“Where the shit did it all go?” She asked out loud before looking up to what looked like her very satisfied family patting their mouths dry and thanking her for the meal before getting up and scurrying to go back to work.

“Ugh, guess i’m on dinner duty… damn fat little…” She muttered to herself before picking up the large pot and going back to the kitchen to prepare for dinner. This is the last time she’s cooking for those ungrateful little shits-

Emperor: “After a reception like that, she’s gonna be on kitchen duty for the rest of her life, isn’t she?”  
Vulkan: “Most likely. But she did show an aptitude for it, and it is best for workers to be where they are talented in.”  
Mortarion: “Ugh.”

A month passes by, showing up to Kai who was exhausted, another full day of cooking behind her. No matter what she did, she never had the chance to get away from the kitchen to find other work for the family! All her family ever did was tell her to keep cooking and one cousin even told her he’s:

“Grateful she’s cooking because he wasn’t sure if he could stand another bowl of her mother’s terrible stew.”

Family: *collective shudder at the memory of that horror show*  
Mortarion: “It didn’t look that bad.”  
Malcador: “Yes it did, stop being a contrarian for the hell of it.”  
Mortarion: *reapergrumble*

There was even one day where the younger ones piled chairs at the door to keep her from leaving until the food was ready!

Sanguinius: “I guess the mother’s cooking really is that bad…”  
Horus: “I have honestly had better food on the biggest backwaters of this galaxy.”  
Emperor: “How many fucks did that cost you to give?”  
Horus: “ENHGH...None.”  
Emperor: “Then you don’t mind being a manwhore because-”  
Guilliman: “-You gave no fucks?”

The family proceed to groan over the Emperor’s extremely outdated references even as Roboute by accident made yet another dad joke.

Malcador: “Dammit Revelation, memes finally died millenia ago and now you’re bringing them back…”

Horus was beginning to regret staying and not leaving with Leman when he had the chance.

All of them are over exaggerating! Her food isn’t that good, it’s not perfect! But then again, at least it’s not another bowl of boiled potatoes floating aimlessly in a pot of salted water with a SINGLE chicken leg. Deep down she loved her mother but she swore, her mother's frugality was going to kill someone eventually.

But oh well, at least the next day is just going to be another day of feeding the family and her failing to escape the kitchen…

No, of course not.

The next day had shown that the neighbors had been coming over to try out her cooking as well! Great! More people to cook for! Kai would end up grabbing a nearby closed sack of flour, pulling it to her face and screaming into it until she couldn’t scream anymore. She stopped, pulled it away and sighed, placing the sack down and rubbing her face. Great. Just amazing.

JUST COMPLETELY FUCK OFF AMAZING WITH LITTLE DRAKE SHITS AND GIGGLES FOR THE GOD EMPEROR’S FAT ASS’S SAKE!

Emperor: “Woah, calm down Gordon Ramsay in space!”  
Mortarion: “Who?”  
Emperor: “The best chef of all time, if I didn’t know Angron’s genetic makeup down to the last cell I would think that I misplaced some of his DNA with Angrons.”

But hey, at least they gave ingredients for the meal…

She sighed even as she went back to chopping more herbs. Well fine! If they want her to cook, she’ll cook! And she’s going to make the best damn stew they’ve ever had in their lives so EVERYONE WILL JUST SHUT THEIR MOUTHS AND LEAVE HER ALONE!

...Little did Kai know, that months would pass by and she would end up cooking again and again and again and again...

“...why am I still here?”

Emperor: “Called it.”  
Guilliman: “Wow, she was genuinely on kitchen duty for several months straight. Even i’m not that brutally efficient.”  
Mortarion: “Better than being stuck on the frontline at all times.”  
Guilliman: “True but baselines tend to require far more recreation and rest then us, lest you forget brother.”

Mortarion gave an open glare at Roboute.

Mortarion: “How can I? You all keep fracking reminding me.”  
Emperor: “We keep reminding you for good reason my son.”

Mortarion gave a sound of decisiveness and looked away from his father.

Emperor: “That way you will be a better dad eventually?”

Mortarion’s head turned so slowly toward the Emperor that the rest of the Primarchs could swear that they had heard stone grinding on stone.

Mortarion: “Do you seriously think I plan on getting with some xeno anytime soon?”  
Emperor: “Well not anytime soon, but nothing is stopping it from happening in the future. Maybe one day you can find a nice girl and change your fate.”

Mortarion’s right eye suddenly developed a nervous twitch and behind his respirator his mouth opened and closed without sound.

Malcador: “Oh no, I think you broke him Revelation.”

That snapped Mortarion out of his reverie.

Mortarion: “By all of the damned sorcery in this galaxy, I swear that I will never, ever get with a filthy xeno! Much less one that is a damnable witch!”  
Emperor: “I think that’s because you aren’t doing a big old tsundere flirting routine with her for over 10 millenia…”

Mortarion felt a hand clapped on his shoulder and looked to see Roboute’s hand on it. His brother having reached out from his own throne.

Guilliman: “That is what I said. But then I got a kid you know and that sort of changes you. I just want to be with him sometimes you know? Play with the little one...”

The whole family slowly but surely tuned out Roboute when he started pulling out some holopicts of baby Aegidius he gathered from other vids and looked toward the Emperor who looked pleased as punch. So far this family meeting was ticking every single standard box of their reunions. Awful, awkward, and an atrocity upon all family values.

Horus: “Continue the damn vid before Roboute gets to bath picts.”  
Roboute: *looking up* “What? I don’t have one of those… at least I think…”

He then quickly ran through an album of picts, noticing that he indeed did not have one of those. He quickly made a mental note that he would need to rescan all of the holovids for one of those picts. He didn’t even realize how much of a dad he was acting like at that moment.

Her mother popped her head into the kitchen, “Honey, how much longer is it going to take?”

Kai reared her head as if she had been violated in every single way imaginable. If she had been a psyker, the entirety of Nocturne would be crawling with daemons right then and there.

“The FEAST amount of food will be ready WHEN IT’S READY MOTHER!”

“Ok dear, just checking. I still say, maybe you wouldn’t be so stressed if you took on an assistant...” Said her mother in response before slowly backing out of the kitchen.

Kai let out a low growl, rubbing her temples as she tried to find where she was in her line up again. No assistant would be able to keep up with her, and and ones who did either had no palette or just had no sense for cooking in the first place! ...not like she liked cooking in the first place…

“Also, honey, we’re going to have even more guests over tonight! We have some last minute extras joining us! I hope that doesn’t bother you!”

“MOTHER FUUU-”

Her mother barely had time to leave the room before a meat cleaver landed and embedded itself in the doorframe.

The family stared at the holo projection in silence.

Horus: “Did she just try and kill her mother?”

Vulkan: *Shrugs with his shoulders* “It is but a normal thing on Nocturne that a lady expresses her frustration in some way. No one is ever truly hurt!”

Malcador: “Doesn't mean it’s not close…”

**...  
M42.173 - Nocturne, _I don't care what to name it Restaurant_  
...  
**

Sanguinius: “Time skip! Also... Did she really name it 'I don't care what to name it'?”  
Vulkan: “So six years passed? A lot can happen for a baseline there. Either way, I like the name!”  
Sanguinius: "Of course you do."

“Two orders for ‘Drake’ stew with extra leek and another for the Grox roast, hold the sides on the last one-”

The server was barely able to avoid a heavy ladle as it went flying past his head.

“TELL HIM HE GETS THE SIDES OR HE CAN GET THE FUCK OUT!”

Screamed Kai from the kitchen of her newly opened restaurant, a true rarity on Nocturne.

“But Chef, the customers aren’t-”

“DO IT OR I’M DOING IT MYSELF YOU JACKASS! THE SIDES COMPLIMENT THE DISH AND TAKING THEM OUT MAKES THEM LESS THAN PERFECT! IF THEY WANT TO EAT DIRT AND LOW TIER ROAST, THEN TELL THEM TO FUCKING LEAVE AND COOK THEIR OWN MEAT OVER A FIRE LIKE A FUCKING SAVAGE, THE TASTELESS CUNTS!”

Emperor: “I am sensing a pattern here. Leman’s wife in the future had a temper and has the most colorful of insults… and now this Kai woman is giving her a run for her money! A lot of women in the future must be absolutely insane…”  
Vulkan: “How so? She is acting like any other Nocturnean woman. Is this not normal?”

All of the brothers including the Emperor simply stare at Vulkan.

Mortarion: “...I assure you, most women do not act like that.”  
Roboute: “At all. And Mortarion, what experience do you have with women?”  
Mortarion: “Enough to know that isn’t how most act.”  
Horus: “You would be surprised…”  
Malcador: “Hush, I don’t want to hear any more from you, Horus.”  
Sanguinius: “Can we go back to how most women on Nocturne are all like this and Kai just seems to be the epitome of Nocturnean women, or are we going to delve into the lack of love life of Mortarion?”  
Emperor: “Last I recall, he did get with an Eldar Goddess...”  
Mortarion: “Ughhh I wish Leman was here with that horrible alcohol he calls a drink, but unlike Horus at least I stopped at one.”  
Horus: “You know, people might call you a happy couple with the so called goddess, but they would call me a-”  
Roboute: “Manwhore.”  
Horus: “Exactly, thank you Robou-WAIT NO!”

The entire family burst into laughter at the joke. The Emperor was laughing so hard at the inappropriate joke he even started choking and coughing.

After a while even Horus let into it, admitting that it was slightly funny and let out a laugh even as Roboute reached over and put a hand on his brothers shoulder.

Roboute: “I am sorry, I just have to defend those of us who in the future acquire a more… ah what’s the word-”  
Horus: “Kinky taste.”  
Roboute: “Ye- I MEAN NO!”  
Horus: *dickish laughter*

The Emperor now amped up his laughter to such a degree that tears were beginning to sprout from his eyes.

Malcador: “Revelation… to think you out of all people would become such a dad.”  
Emperor: *wheezing* “I… I can’t help it.”

The server not being one to argue with the fiery chef walked away and bowed before the massive customers before humbly explaining that the chef “heavily suggested that the meal would be incomplete without the sides”.

Mortarion: “Yes. Heavily suggested. Definitely wasn’t a declaration of death and insult.”

The two transhumans accepted with a slight chuckle, not wanting to offend. To no one's surprise, it was absolutely delicious!

“Reminds me of when I was a small boy. The swearing even reminds me of my mother when she was cooking for the family.”

“My mother used to swear so badly, she swore one of the captains away from the house and made him nearly whimper. But he didn’t cry, that’s when I knew I had to be a Space Marine.”

“Because your mother didn’t make him cry?”

“Precisely.”

Horus: “Are Nocturnean women really that scary that they can make a Space Marine whimper?”  
Vulkan: “Most definitely. My adopted mothers would make me feel intimidated at times, do not underestimate the power of a Nocturnean woman when she decides she hates you.”  
Roboute: “You make them sound like they’re all crazy and would kill another for looking at them wrong.”  
Vulkan: “Would you like to meet one-?”  
Roboute: “No thank you.”

“I wonder if she’s married yet? Most women who have even half of her talents would be married by now. I know most Nocturnean men love a woman like that…”

“You thinking of proposing to her?”

“Emperor’s sake! No! I was just wondering out loud.”

“I’m only poking fun at you, besides. I hear she’s so into her work she won’t marry any man. She’s dedicated to her work, dedicated to helping others. It’s an admirable cause.”

Meanwhile, Kai in her kitchen was lamenting how no man can possibly be her husband. No one was interesting enough. Her thoughts were cut short when her maitre'd, came in.

“Chef, two of the customers wish to offer their compliments to you in person-”

“I HAVE NO FUCKING TIME FOR THEM! TELL THEM THEY CAN FUCK OFF!”

“But Chef they-”

“DOES IT LOOK LIKE I GIVE ANY FUCKS AT THIS MOMENT?! IT’S ABOUT TO GO INTO THE LUNCH HOUR RUSH AND THE PREP FOR IT STILL ISN’T DONE!”

“Chef I-”

The maitre’d had to duck in order to avoid the chef’s knife which went flying past him only to be grabbed out of the air by a massively armoured man. If the massive hulking beast could even be called that. Kai thought as she looked at the man standing in her doorway. It took right about three seconds for her brain to register that she just un-intentionally assaulted a SPACE MARINE with a knife.

Mortarion: “All I’ve seen with this woman is her being hostile to anything and everything, and generally being averse to other people, despite their claims of adoration.”  
Emperor: *stares* “Hi kettle, meet pot.”  
Mortarion: “What-”  
Sanguinius: “Just… Just no… no… stop. Don’t fight with father on this one, Mortarion. You know he got you.”  
Horus: “Just don’t fight it.”  
Mortarion: *reapergrumbling intensifies*  
Vulkan: *chuckles* “I think it makes her endearing. She’s just adorably prickly and doesn’t like showing off her true self. She’s cute.”  
Emperor: *knowing look*  
Roboute: “We seem to meet a lot of women in these vids who are like that…”  
Malcador: “Ugh… I always hated that trope…”  
Emperor: “Hey. Stop it. That’s my thing.”

“We wish to offer our sincere compliments to you skilled one.” Said the Space Marine before he made way for his battle-brother who bowed his head politely.

Kai was completely flabbergasted, all for a grand total of four seconds.

Then she noticed that all of her staff had stopped working and were staring openly at the Astartes. She proceeded to rear her head at them with such an ugly look that if she was a psyker the entire kitchen staff would most likely be dead at that point.

Horus: “Volatile angry exploding psykers.”  
Sanguinius: “Exploding with the power of anger.”  
Roboute: “That sounds like Angron’s style of fighting.”  
Mortrion: “UUUUUUUUUUUUUGH…”

They all began to work again, then Kai noticed one of the newer members preparing to cut a carrot the wrong way. She quickly grabbed a nearby ladle and ran of toward him, all the while beginning to scream profanities at him.

One of the two Space Marine leaned in to the other and whispered into his battle-brothers ear. “I believe this is what normal humans call love?”

The family blinked once.

Vulkan: “Yes.”  
Guilliman: “Are you making a jest brother?”  
Vulkan: “Perhaps.”  
Emperor: “My lines boys! Besides! This girl is great for Vulkan!”  
Malcador: “Stop shipping your sons with women!”  
Emperor: “NEVER! I WANT GRANDKIDS NOW!”  
Malcador: “YOU HAVE GRANDKIDS RIGHT NOW!”  
Emperor: “THE WRITERS DIDN’T GIVE ME ENOUGH!”  
Horus: “WHO?!”  
Emperor: “I’LL TELL YOU WHEN YOU’RE OLDER!”  
Horus: “FATHER STOP WITH-”  
Malcador: “CONTINUING ON!”

The vid then skipped forward six months.

Sanguinius: “How many time skips are there in this vid!?”  
Horus: “I don’t know anymore. I just want more content.”  
Roboute: “Scouting for more lady friends?”  
Horus: “NO I’M NOT FRACK YOU!”  
Emperor: “Boys! Cut it out, the vid is continuing!”

...why in the ever living volcanos of Nocturne are these asshole Space Marines taking up her valuable time!? They pull her away from prepping another heavy day of work all to beg her to cater some grand event? She doesn’t care in the slightest! Who cares if some long lost Space Marine came back!?

“-okay listen. This is nice and all, but I have no reason or want to actually do this. All you have told me is that the Primarch came back? That’s pretty great, yeah, you have fun with that. I have a choice here and I don’t want to cater for this, get your serfs to cater. I have work to do.” Kai crossed her arms over her chest.

Chapter Master Tu’Shan was actually speechless. He came down personally to get the best chef on all of Nocturne, nay, in the entire sector and beyond to come aboard and personally serve the Primarch Vulkan as he returned to Nocturne for the first time in multiple millenia… And this woman just says NO!? “Do… Do you even know who I am?”

Horus: “She just… said no to her king? Wow, that is some willpower.”  
Roboute: “The kind you didn’t have with all of those women?”  
Horus: “UNGH!”  
Mortarion: *Respirator laughter coughing*  
Roboute: “In all seriousness, the fact that she seems to be such a rebel against authority is a bit worrying. Then again, I think you like that, don’t you Horus?”  
Horus: “FOR THE LAST TIME IT WAS FOR THE GOOD OF THE IMPERIUM!”  
Sanguinius: “And totally not for your own enjoyment.”  
Malcador: “At all.”  
Mortarion: “Totally.”  
The Emperor's face during all of this: PRICELESS  
Horus: “I love all of you but I also want to violently kill all you at the moment. Then again, Father has done the same, HAVEN’T YOU FATHER?!”

The Emperor stopped his laughing as he looked at his son in confusion.

Emperor: “I have no idea what you are talking about Horus.”  
Horus: “Do you want me to talk about the “Xeno” incident?”  
Emperor: “... Shut up son.”  
Horus: “Oh, so when I whore myself out for the good of the Imperium I am ridiculed and it’s made public to our whole family! But when you go to make a webway gate to get to eldar prostitutes, suddenly it's fine?”

The Emperor reached over and slammed a hand over Horus’ mouth. He then slowly turned to look at the rest of the family in the room.

Malcador: “I thought you were making that webway gate to help humanity not rely on the warp anymore!”  
Emperor: “Yes! But I have multiple reasons on why I do what I do. Can you really tell me I did wrong with having one little reason on my mind that isn't about the good of mankind?”  
Malcador: "You keep going. Just keep on digging."  
Emperor: "What- What do you mean?"  
Malcador: "You'll see."  
Mortarion: “I’m going to pretend I didn’t just hear any of that.”  
Sanguinius and Vulkan: “Same.”  
Guilliman: “At least I know it’s genetic now. But I will promptly forget that image as to stay sane.”

“You’re a Space Marine. Just like the others.”

“I am not just a Space Marine, I am a chapter master?”

Kai just stared at him and blinked once.

“I am the lord of the fireborn, the regent of Prometheus!”

Kai blinked twice.

“I lead the Salamanders while the Primarch is away?” Tu’Shan actually felt a twinge of annoyance at this woman, his normal calm was being threatened to such a point that he was beginning to even feel confused.

Kai blinked thrice before answering. “Sure Chapter Master, look if you want food sit down. I got a kitchen to run.” Before simply walking away… from her king…

Horus: “Don’t say anything.”  
Roboute: “I’m not.”  
Sanguinius: “No one is thinking anything.”  
Vulkan: “At all.”  
Mortarion: “Nope.”

Chapter Master Tu’Shan began to wonder if all the Space Marines who were around her may have made her indifferent to them now. Maybe that’s why she could care less? No, that’s absurd. People can’t just grow a resistance to… them… can they? Either way, now he’s going to have to explain to his Primarch that the food for the welcome back feast will have to wait… because their chef declined to cater… because she doesn’t care… Oh please, please don’t make him have to suffer through a Vulkan frown!

Chapter Master Tu’Shan had to personally make his way back to his Primarch, trying in vain to come up with reasons on why she refused. Oh, he didn’t want to suffer through a Vulkan frown…

Vulkan: “What is wrong with my frown?”  
Sanguinius: “It’s not natural.”  
Vulkan: “But… Anyone can frown…?”  
Horus: “Not you, you’re not allowed.”  
Vulkan: “But I have frowned before!”  
Emperor: “And look what happened. The Bucephalus almost got destroyed.”  
Vulkan: “You cannot blame that on my frowning!”  
Emperor: “Well, they both happened near each other and it happened soooo… You’re not allowed.”

“My Primarch.”

Chapter Master Tu’Shan excused himself as he entered the chambers within which his Primarch was currently in. Surrounded by most of the senior warriors of the Salamanders.

“What is it my son?” Asked back Vulkan with his iconic smile and kind voice.

“The uh... Chef for you welcome back feast has uh… there is not a nice way of saying this but… she has declined to cater the feast.”

Tu’Shan could feel rather then see the all of his battle-brothers shock.

“What?” Said Vulkan He’stan, the current Forgefather in complete surprise. Who would decline catering a primarch?!

“Perhaps you did not ask kindly enough?” Kindly suggested Vel’cona, the Chief Librarian.

Mortarion: “As if asking her with a knife to her throat would have changed anything.”  
Vulkan: “Being kind is always beneficial my brother!”  
Horus: “You would be…”

Horus trailed off as he looked toward Roboute and his father who both seemed to be busy watching the vid.

Horus: “...surprised.”  
Malcador: “You always did like the aggressive ones if I recall correctly.”  
Horus: “NOT YOU TOO LORD SIGILLITE!”

“I… no I swear that I was as polite as can be…” Tu’Shan trailed off as he appeared perplexed about something before Vulkan stood up from his throne at the war table.

“I have to see this woman for myself. Her denial must have been for good reason.”

All of the present veteran Space Marines looked at each other, before He’stan spoke. “I shall join you if you would permit me the honor my Primarch.”

“I too would like to accompany you lord Vulkan. I wish to see this chef’s skills in action.” Added on Tu’shan.

Vulkan smiled at both of them before speaking. “Of course you may! Let us go see what this is all about.”

The Fireguard marched with their Primarch, Chapter Master and Forgefather as they made the trek down and entered the small village of Huwelik. All of the present citizens standing to in absolute amazement at seeing the Primarch who responded to any greetings and smiled kindly.

As they got closer and closer to the restaurant however, less and less people began to say hello and just continued on their business as usual. Only the surprisingly many Space Marines they meet along the way bothered to stand aside and salute their Primarch, Chapter Master AND Forgefather.

When they got to the restaurant only the Space Marines were now bothering to salute or say a greeting.

Vulkan then entered the small establishment with the Forgefather and Chapter Master, leaving the fireborn outside at what appeared to be very big line.

When he approached the reception, the waiter looked up. Vulkan thought for a second that the poor man’s eyes were going to fall out with the speed of which they shot open.

“Good day, I would like to please speak to the chef of this establishment.”

The waiter wordlessly turned before speaking what sounded roughly like “Pleasefollowmemylordohnohelpmeshe’sgoingtokillme.”

Roboute: “I am seriously beginning to feel sorry for this poor waiter.”  
Mortarion: “I’m starting to agree with you, he has not earned her hire.”  
Vulkan: “She would never hurt him intentionally my brothers!”  
Emperor: “Vulkan is right. We have yet to see an actual incident occur.”  
Sanguinius: “Agreed, though this is most likely because his dodging skills have so vastly improved at this point.”  
Horus: “Bet you 20 thrones he can’t dodge a point blank attack from her.”  
Sanguinius: “You're on.”

And began walking toward the kitchen. When they arrived at the counter the waiter spoke again in a trembling voice.

“Chef… a customer wishes to speak with yo-”

The maitre’d had to duck as a frying pan went flying and hit the wall behind him so hard that it bent. Vulkan noticed that it was made of steel.

Sanguinus: “Pay up brother.”

Horus grumbled lightly but eventually smiled before he reached into the pockets of the robes he was currently wearing and took out the twenty thrones and gave them to Sanguinius.

“FOR THE FIFTIETH FUCKING TIME THIS WEEK! I DO NOT HAVE THE FUCKING TIME!” Yelled Kai as she appeared from the kitchen doors before looking Vulkan in his face and being seemingly transfixed by it for a bit. Then she heard a glass smashing in the kitchen which snapped her back to him, “If you want to eat. Back of the line.”

“You misunderstand miss I-” Vulkan was cut off again.

“I give absolutely no fucks. Go to the back of the line and fucking wait like every other decent human being.” She then promptly turned on her heels and marched back into the kitchen.

The family stared in silence.

Vulkan: “I think I love this woman.”  
The whole family: “You think?!”

By the time Vulkan reunited with both He’Stan and Tu’Shan, he only glanced at the both of them before dragging them with him to the back of the line along with the two dozen Firedrakes accompanying them. “You heard the lady! Back of the line!”

“B-but you shouldn’t have to wait-”

Somehow, she heard this and a crash came from the kitchen before Kai screamed out as loud as she could: “EVERYONE WAITS IN THE LINE NO MATTER WHAT!”

Vulkan smiled and shrugged, “You heard her, everyone waits in the line. She said so, it’s only polite.”

Sanguinius: “But… You… You don’t have to…?”  
Vulkan: “It is the polite thing to do.”  
Emperor: “Just let it go.”  
Malcador: *side glance and knowing look*  
Emperor: “Don’t you dare sing it.”  
Malcador: “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Waiting in the line was terrible. But for them, it wasn’t so bad, especially with hearing tales from their Primarch on where he was, how he came back and all the juicy details of his adventures.

Emperor: “Is anyone going to tell us what these adventures were or…?”  
Malcador: “I don’t think they will.”  
Emperor: “Of course they won’t.”

By the time they finally made it to the front, all of the present Space Marines and Primarch were considerably hungry. As they all crammed into the restaurant the waiters streamed in and began to take their orders. They soon found out that they were going to need a lot of food for twenty transhumans.

It was also a little test from Vulkan’s side in order to see if this fiery woman could indeed perform. If she could cook this much food with consistent quality, her skill would be without question.

It didn’t take long before the food began arriving, practically flying out of the kitchen and the Marines began eating. It went almost as quickly as it went, Vulkan patiently waiting for the “Drake Party platter” which he ordered, it was after all meant to serve twenty people, so the time it took to make it being extensive was understandable.

When it finally arrived, it took two people to carry it and it took up most of the table which Vulkan was sitting at.

Vulkan kindly thanked the two waiters before taking up his utensils, wishing his gene-sons a good meal, and tucking in.

As he cut into the roasted Grox leg which was at the center of the platter, he was surprised at how easily his knife cut through the meat; almost like cutting through heated butter. When he brought the piece of meat up to his face for closer examination, he found the juices flowing freely out of the nicely cooked meat.

He then quickly put it in his mouth and chewed.

Three seconds later he was cutting another piece as the remnants of the meat continued to coat the inside of his mouth in an aroma of spicy flavors.

Sanguinius: “It looks delicious!”  
Emperor: “Agreed. Now I’m hungry.”  
Roboute: “Agreed.”  
Horus: “Agreed.”  
Mortarion: “UGH, will you stop it with that?”  
Emperor: “That mask is coming off ASAP.”  
Mortarion: “AGAIN, WHAT BY BARBARUS ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?!”  
Emperor: “Can’t tell you now, it would spoil the surprise!”  
Mortarion: *Sounds of Reapergrumbling echoing through the warp*  
Horus: “You get used to it after a while.”

Vulkan had never in his whole life had a meal this good, and he had been served by the Emperor’s personal chefs before! Then again, it could have been the millennia of isolationism speaking but hey, at the moment he sure as hell didn’t care!

In a matter of minutes he managed to finish the entire platter and when he looked around he noticed that all of his gene-sons were also very much satisfied. Tu’shan was nabbing the corners of his mouth with a napkin, all the while presenting a very surprised face.

“Call me a neophyte, but this was as delicious as all of the rumors said!”

He exclaimed as he looked toward his Primarch.

“I agree my son, a very delicious and tasty meal!”

Vulkan got up in his massive armoured form from the reinforced chair, a wide smile already on his face as he addressed his sons. “I shall go give the chef my compliments.”

Horus: “Here we go again it seems.”  
Vulkan: “I shall gladly accept any warm expressions of her passion!”  
Sanguinius: “Then you best learn to duck fast brother.”

When the Primarch had reached the kitchens for the second time in his visit, he didn’t think the chef would be hostile to him again. He was wrong.

He had barely been able to get a single word in when he crouched to enter the kitchen and give his gratitude to the chef, when he had an adamantium knife in his face.

“What are you doing back here!? This place is off limits to customers! Explain yourself you overgrown green giant!” It was the same woman from before, the head chef no doubt, but this time she was standing up to the Primarch and even waving a knife at him.

Vulkan knew she wouldn’t be able to harm him, and had a feeling all of this bluster was just something she did on instinct. It was kind of cute. “I have come here to offer my compliments to the chef!” He added in before she could threaten him again.

Kai blinked a few times, sputtering her words a few times as her face darkened. “W-what?”

Vulkan: “I KNEW IT!”  
Horus: “THAT’S WHAT GETS HER!?”  
Emperor: “She did seem the type to hide something.”  
Horus: “NO SHE DID NOT!”  
Guilliman: “Tell me brother, how many women did you actually stay with after the action was over so to speak?”  
Horus: “...Frack you brother.”  
Guilliman: “Love you too brother.”

“It is true! I had quite enjoyed your meal and wanted to come back here to offer my compliments! You have a gift and I must say, it was the best meal I have had in many millenia!” Vulkan would flash her a wide smile, one that nearly blinded anyone to gaze upon it.

Kai didn’t speak, or move. It got eerily quiet as Vulkan looked down at the baseline, noticing how her hands shook and her hands slowly moved to cup her flaming cheeks. Her eyes were wide, hair even sticking up in places as she tried to say something against what he just said. “Ah… You… Y-you… just… umm…”

Vulkan thought, in this exact moment, she was the cutest thing in this entire galaxy. She would make a wonderful wife! Now if only he could get her to agree to his proposal… Wouldn’t do to force her...

As Vulkan took a small step forward in order to better introduce himself, the sense of friction suddenly became all but lost to him as he by accident stepped into a puddle of spilled oil.

Emperor: “I know that line from somewhere… wait… NO! STOP IT!”  
Malcador: “...what line?”  
Vulkan: “Are you alright father?”  
Emperor: “Nothing. Just seeing that my newfound fullness has some downsides now…”

Flamestodes came up to the Emperor and gently patted the Emperor’s shoulder as a motion of comfort and the Emperor turned to face him before putting on a smile and thanking him, despite the helmet.

Emperor: “Thank you my son.”  
Malcador: *sighs* “Revelation, stop flaunting it to everyone…”

The rest of the present Primarchs: *CONFUSION* “Flaunt…?”

Vulkan’s massive armoured form slipped lightly into the air before slamming down. The massive quake caused by his extremely heavy form causing some of the pots and pans on the stoves to slip off and spill all of their contents.

Vulkan could already hear the sanity of the head chef snapping again as he was getting up, preparing to apologize. He had been stopped by a tiny foot stepping on his chest. He looked up and saw a very very angry looking Kai. Her face in fact reminded him of his brother Magnus’ skin pigment.

Horus: “Ah, here-”  
Sanguinius: “-we-”  
Emperor: “-go!”

“You…” She slowly began. Vulkan could swear that he saw a vein pop in her forehead then and there. “You… fucking massive GREEN ARMOURED FULL OF GROX MANURE CLUMSY SENSELES MORON!”

Her words were true, and Vulkan couldn’t help but know that the blame was his.

“DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MUCH FUCKING MEAT WAS IN THOSE POTS AND PANS DO YOU?! NO DON’T ANSWER, A LOT! A. FUCKING. LOT! WE ARE ABOUT TO GO INTO THE DINNER RUSH AND YOU JUST DESTROYED THE ENTIRE FUCKING SUPPLY FOR IT! IT WOULD TAKE A FULL SIZED DRAKE TO FEED THIS AMOUNT OF-”

“Say no more my lady.”

Kai’s wind suddenly taken out of her proverbial sails stopped right then and there even as she was looking down at the Primarch in shock. “What?”

“I shall bring you this drake so that you may serve your customers unimpeded!” Explained Vulkan as he got up, gently moving Kai’s foot off of his chest. “I need but ten standard minutes.”

Emperor: “10 minutes? The last time I saw you hunt a drake, it took you most of the day.”  
Vulkan: “Ah, but this time I’m doing it to serve a beautiful woman.”  
Emperor: “Glad to know I’m ranked below a beautiful woman.”  
Horus: “To be fair father, it was you who gave us two heads to think with.”  
Roboute: *Was going to say something, but then stopped when he realized just how much that one could backfire*

He then walked out of the Kitchen, Kai left gapping on the spot. It was then that a singular thought entered her mind. “That idiot is going to get himself killed attempting to kill a Drake…” She only could massage her temples, letting out a shuddering sigh as she attempted to calm down. It’s not her problem anymore, he already paid, so at least she could just only worry about the lunch rush...

**...  
9 standard minutes and 48 seconds later  
...  
**

Sanguinius: “...well that’s accurate.”  
Mortarion: “Why are you always the one to comment on time skips?”  
Sanguinius: “Hush.”

Fuck! Is all Kai could think of as she tried to fill in orders and lead her kitchen, everyone just wanted meat right now, and no matter what she did, she couldn’t entice them to choose anything else! She couldn’t even yell, she was panicking so much! This was all that stupid jolly green giant’s fault!

“Are you sure we can’t get them to choose the vegetable soup instead?” Kai asked, even as the maitre’d shook his head.

Emperor: “Yeah, I can see that. You can’t offer meat on the menu then try to sell a veggie soup instead.”

“I’m sorry chef, but they are insistent! They only want the special! Are you sure we don’t hav-”

“If you ask me that question again I will gut you myself and make you the special. And no, we don’t. We may have to close early and lose out on anymore profits…”

“CHEF! CHEF! WE HAVE A DELIVERY OUT BACK!”

One of the staff interrupted her from the back of the kitchen as she scrunched her eyebrows in though. Who could have possibly…?

Normally she would have just told them to go away, but at this point she considered it equal to the Emperor getting off of his throne fully healed. She immediately ran for the back door and flung it open before stepping outside and immediately face planting on something scaly and warm which then sent her flying ass down onto the ashy black ground.

When she looked up she noticed something absolutely fuck off massive.

The damn thing she slammed into… was a Drake.

A Fully grown. _ Dead.  _ **_Drake._ **

She slapped herself right then and there to check if she was dreaming. No luck as it turned out. It was real. She was fully awake.

Her surprise turned into a complete no-shit moment as soon as she saw the big green armoured giant step around the Drake. He kindly offered her a hand and she grasped it before he effortlessly pulled her to her feet.

“I uh… I don’t know what to say… I would say thank you to be honest, but I don’t even know your name…”

Kai trailed off as she saw the giants gentle smile and felt her cheeks begin to burn red. The giant then gave a light bow of his head.

“I am Vulkan, the Primarch of the Salamanders.” He explained in a jovial tune even as Kai felt her jaw go slack and all of her confidence shatter. Oh fuck, she yelled at a Primarch… She yelled AT THE SALAMANDERS PRIMARCH! OH FUCK THIS IS THE ONE! THE ONE THAT THE SPACE MARINES WANTED HER TO COOK FOR! AND SHE SAID NO!

Horus: “Oh, now she realizes! It took Vulkan literally introducing himself… so much for the so called Imperial Creed.”  
Sanguinius: “To be fair, the Nocturneans do have their own religion that they tend to follow.”  
Emperor: “While I agree with both of you, I think it just shows off how stubborn this woman is.”  
Vulkan: “I think she is as cute as a smithing hammer!”  
Emperor: “Of course you do.”

She wished that she could just sink into nothingness right there on the spot.

Then she felt a massive hand on her shoulder and looked up to see the still smiling Primarch.

“I would be honored if you would consider cooking for my returning feast, and perhaps agreeing to see me at a more personal level at times.”

She could only dumbly smile and nod.

Horus: “You’re going to take advantage of that, aren’t you?”  
Vulkan: “What do you mean?”  
Horus: “Her just smiling and nodding.”  
Vulkan: *shrugs* “Maybe.”

The Primarch keeped on going as she thought about how her life was most likely over now.

She kept smiling and nodding to everything. The Primarch seemingly getting happier with every answer even as she felt like dying on the inside.

“... if possible, you would make me the happiest transhuman on all of Nocturne if you would also consider eventually marrying me.”

“Uh huh, sure, yes.”

Emperor: “Wat?”  
Horus: “WHAT?  
Guilliman: “IT SHOULDN’T BE THAT EASY!”

In her moment of utter panic it took Kai a grand total of five seconds to realize what was just said.

“WAIT WHAT?!”

Roboute: “There we go!”

She started sputtering even as her face went red again.

“I’m I’m I’m I’m-not wife material! Why would you wanna marry me, I scream and curse all the time and I’m a horrible person! The only thing I am good at is cookingandthrowingthingsatpeoplewhywouldyouconsider…” She slowly trailed off into what seemed like a growing madness, speeding up as she went as he vision just seemed to twist, turn and warp.

Sanguinius: “I admit that I can see the cuteness now.”  
Vulkan: “Isn’t she? Although a word of warning brother, she’s mine now.”

*Sanguinius’ face was graced by a light smile*

Sanguinius: “All yours.”

Vulkan only watched her, having to stop himself from laughing, she really was the cutest thing on Nocturne! “But you have already agreed to so much more, marriage is only the latest of my questions.”

“WHAT ELSE DID I AGREE TO!?”

He thought back and relayed it to her, “Well, you agreed to cook my welcome back feast, you agreed to let me visit you on a more personal level, you agreed to me courting you, you agreed to me meeting your family, you agreed to go on numerous dates with me and now you have agreed to marry me. I was wondering if you were even listening anymore after half of that. Next I was going to ask you if you would bear my many children.”

Emperor: “They are kind after all!”  
Horus: “WILL YOU STOP THAT?!”  
Malcador: “Revelation please…”  
Emperor: “Can’t a future grandfather get excited over more grandkids?”  
Malcador: “Of course Revelation, but do try and keep it to far less of a train ride through the warp levels of confusing moments for other people. The timeline is already difficult to see sometimes.”  
Mortarion: “I would ask but I feel as if I already know the answer.”  
Vulkan: “I thought we watched that one vid only a few weeks ago…?”  
Malcador: “Those of us who are more psychically attuned with the warp tend to see things in a different light. Especially someone as powerful as your father or me.”

Kai let out a shriek as she loudly sputtered, unable to say anything else.

“But I know you weren’t listening anymore, so I threw that in to surprise you.”

She took a few breaths, calming down as she looked back at him, to the Drake, to him again, then to his hand on her shoulder, then back at him. “I… Oh, it was only a joke. Oh thank the throne, I think I was about to explode from stress right there-”

“Oh no, I was not joking about the proposal. I had hoped to give it to you after time has passed and you got to know me better, but the offer still stands!” Vulkan only chuckled and smiled at her, making her nearly choke on air at this moment.

“You- You are-... I mean… St-stoooop… Stop embarrassing me!” She practically shrieked as she ran back into her kitchen, almost colliding with her staff, who were piled against the doors, listening in on what was going on outside. Her sudden appearance had them falling to the ground and looking up at her in awe. “What the-!? WERE ALL OF YOU LISTENING IN!?”

Emperor: “JUST LIKE WE ARE!”

The family groaned particularly hard at that one.

“You’re getting married to a PRIMARCH!?” They ignored her question and only asked this now, much to the amusement of Vulkan who was crouched to poke his head into the kitchen after her.

“I- That isn’t important right now-”

“I think it is, chef.”

“I would like an answer as well, beautiful Kai.” Vulkan spoke up after her staff. This only made Kai let out a strangled noise, hands covering her face as she nearly shrunk away.

“I-I-I-I Will give an as… answer later… LATER AFTER THE DAY IS FINISHED!” She turned to her staff and then glanced at Vulkan, “All hands on deck! We need to prepare that Drake! Move it!”

Sanguinius: “She can only avoid it for so long~”

With the help of her new, unintended betrothed, the restaurant was able to serve their disgruntled patrons, the rest of their customers and were able to close for the night.

As she was locking up the restaurant and preparing to walk the short way home she suddenly realized that that damned Jolly green giant was behind her, patiently awaiting her answer no doubt…

“Sooo… about my answer to...that question…” She began even as she turned her back to the restaurant.

“Look uh… just walk with me and we can talk.”

Vulkan put on a kind smile before he outstretched his massive hand and intrevined it with hers.

_ GAH! He’s getting too comfortable around me!  _ Kai thought even as they began to walk to her home.

“So uh… look I… you know that I am not exactly the best material for a wife… so why did you pick me? You can have literally any girl on Nocturne… Emperor’s teeth, in the entire Imperium even! Your a Primarch… a living breathing Primarch!”

Vulkan gave her a thoughtful look before answering. “It is far past time that I have an offspring of my own. Going away for so long has taught me the value of family yet again. You are also the cutest woman I have ever seen.”

“What?! I’m not cute! I… I look terrible I just came out of work, I’m covered in grease, sweat and I’m all heated from being near a stove all day and-”

She was cut off as Vulkan gently pulled her to a stop. When she looked up at him she saw his red eyes seemingly taking on a more gentle glow.

“You lie to yourself and yet you strive to serve others. You put food in the bellies of many hard working Nocturneans and my gene-sons; for that, you have my eternal gratitude. To me, the side effects of your work are barely but noticeable as they are marks of the great things you are doing. You working so hard makes you not cute, but more beautiful than any other in my eyes.”

The family leaned back in surprise.

Guilliman: “Who would have known you had it in you brother?”  
Vulkan: “I may not be as skilled of an orator as you are, brother, but I do know how to properly court a lady.”  
Sanguinius: “Wonderful words I have to agree.”  
Mortarion: “I really am beginning to regret giving up that excuse of a drink that Leman loves so much.”

Kai couldn’t even be shocked, she was just in awe that someone could say something like that to her… All the others couldn’t talk like that, she was just beyond flattered. She was embarrassed, but flattered… “I… Thank you… Lord-”

“Just Vulkan.”

She nodded, nervous laughter bubbling past her, “ye-yes… Thank you… Vulkan, I-”

And they were interrupted by a squeal, Kai snapping her gaze to see a small gathering near her. This gathering was her family… Namely her mother who now was squealing even more as she ran towards Kai, arms open. “YES! FINALLY! YOU’RE FINALLY GETTING MARRIED MY SWEET KAI BABY!”

Horus: “This oddly reminds me of someone.”  
Guilliman: “Why who ever could you mean brother?”  
Horus: “No one in particular brother, just someone with a newfound personality.”

The Emperor slowly began to catch on.

Emperor: “You two-”  
Guilliman: “Does this someone so happen to have a particular love for his grandchildren brother?”  
Horus: “Why yes dear brother, all the while acting like a father in a midlife crisis to his own sons.”  
Guilliman: “Why brother, I do believe we both know such a man!”  
Horus: “Why, I believe you are right!”

All with the exception of the Emperor were now hiding their laughter as the two brothers slowly stared at their father.

Emperor: *Emperor grumble* “... it’s true.”

Horus and Guilliman, along with every other Primarch in the room then let out a wail of laughter as the Emperor crossed his arms and looked abashed.

Kai was then swooped into a hug, her mother babbling excitedly as her father, brothers and sisters were flocking, making her gasp out questions, “What are all of you doing here!? MOM! PUT ME DOWN!”

Sanguinius: “So that is where that comes from…”

“We wanted to surprise you! We heard that the Primarch came back and- oh don’t fret honey, we’re so proud, we knew already you’d be asked to cater- we wanted to celebrate! And oh, look at you! You have a man asking you to marry him! A Space Marine! Well, there goes your chances of giving me grandkids, but oh, you’ll still be happy! I can just nag your siblings for them now! Oh Kai, I knew you’d be the one to snag a great one!” Her mother was so happy, she was practically crushing her in her hug, swinging her from side to side as she spoke.

Vulkan waved at them, chuckling good naturedly. “I am not a Space Marine, I am the Primarch Vulkan of the Salamanders.”

Her mother stopped her excited thrashing, looking up at the Primarch. She blinked a few times, glanced at her nearly unconscious daughter then back at him. “I told all of you, she’d snag the best man on Nocturne! And look! I was right! Oh, welcome to the family! Kai, sweetie, you take the night off, I’ll cook for-”

“NO!” Everyone except her mother and Vulkan shrieked.

Malcador: “I am starting to think that her cooking was bad enough to be considered a war crime with all of these reactions.”

“-Oh fine, I won’t cook, but we need to celebrate!”

Kai finally regained all of her senses, before glancing at the Primarch, then to her family. “Don’t worry, I’ll cook. It wouldn’t do to… Not prepare something special for my… intended…” She spoke slowly, feeling the pure happiness radiating from Vulkan at her words.

Guilliman: “Aaaaand just like that they are getting married!”  
Malcador: “Like I have said…. Proper courtship seems to have gone down the proverbial toilet in those past ten millennia.”  
Emperor: “Oh it isn’t that bad!”  
Malcador: “You are just saying that because this union means that you are going to get more grandkids.”  
Emperor: “Guilty as charged!”

Aw hell, he’s a nice guy. Marrying him seems like a good idea, and he was actually a great catch. Even if she wasn’t fishing in the first place… if he continues to be a good person, she can definitely see herself loving him.

She was getting pretty close to it already.

Then she heard her mom ask Vulkan, “So can Primarchs have children, because I want grandchildren-”

“I would love to have many children!” Vulkan would answer her.

And now she wants to stab someone.

Emperor: “See! I’m not the only one who wants grandkids!”  
Family: *groaning*

The projector clicked empty.

The Emperor then slapped his thighs. “Right!” He said and got up. “I think we should disband and head back to our posts for the rest of the day before retiring for some well deserved rest!”

There were various signs of agreement from the rest of the Primarchs at this, most agreed that they sat around long enough for today.

“Then tomorrow, we can get back to the big stuff! Or well, a few weeks maybe.”

Horus groaned again and chimed in. “Father… I swear…”

“Fine fine, I’ll stop!”


	21. Orchestrated Catastrophe

After the family disbanded back to their posts the Emperor got up from His massive throne and walked toward another part of the viewing room before beginning to run His hand up and down a column.

“Has to be here somewhere…” The Emperor muttered under His breath, attracting the attention of Malcador who had finally put away his data-slate, satisfied with the amount of work he had managed to get done for now.

“Revelation… what are you doing?” He asked in an impatient tone, standing up and hobbling over to his friend.

“Just give me a second Mal, it has to be here somewhere…” The Emperor’s hand reached a just barely seen hitch in the column and a positive sounding ping echoed around the room. “Got it.” Said the Emperor with a smile even as a holocam came out of a hidden alcove in the column and scanned his face.

“Access granted.” It chimed in a robotic voice even as the telltale grinding of heavy gears was heard and the wall swung open, revealing that it was in fact, a massive armoured door, hidden in plain sight.

The Emperor began to walk forward, motioning for Malcador to follow him. “Got the idea from him, you know? He was always the best at hiding things in plain sight.”

“You know, I was wondering where it was hidden. I see he still does a good job even after all this time.” Malcador nodded his head as he caught up to the Emperor.

“Why do you think I kept him around? Well, aside from some sentimental reasons of course.” The Emperor’s voice was impassive, but he couldn't keep the twinge of pride from his tone.

“After what happened, for a while I did. But he has shown himself to be dedicated to his vow of silence and his will to serve humanity.” The Emperor made a motion in the air. “But I digress, because truth be told Revelation, I had thought you mad after you came back to Terra. But I can still see that you are still up to your old tricks.”

The Emperor’s face developed a slight frown even as the two reached an elevator beginning their descent as soon as they both stepped in. “I hate this now you know? Doing these tricks, hiding things from them.” A sigh escaped his mouth. “But it is for the best. I will try and not do so for long this time around.”

“That is what you said the last time Revelation. Honesty never was your strong suit, but I do hope you keep to it now. A change of pace and a brighter outlook can go a long way with not just yourself, but for everyone, not just the Imperium. They have all suffered enough.”

The elevator reached the bottom and the pair walked down the newly revealed hallways until they reached an airlock, with rebreathers hanging near it. “So what is the plan now Revelation?” Asked Malcador even as he fitted a rebreather across his face and the Emperor looked at him with a slight smile.

“Salvation.” He said before He opened the airlock and they both walked through.

Once the doors sealed behind them, they were sprayed down with various counterseptics, cleaning them of any bacteria they might have picked up. Malcador could also feel the air heighten the amount of oxygen that it contained. As soon as the process was finished, the door on the other end swung open and they were greeted by the various stares and greetings from the Chirurgeons, Biologicus Adepts and Apothecaries of the Legiones Custodes.

“Sire.” Said one of the Custodes who was clad in white power armour, made from an unknown sterile material, standing straight and at attention to his liege.

“Update me Chief Apothecary, what is the status of the breathing chemicals.”

The Apothecary immediately spun on his heels and walked over to a digestorium that housed what appeared to be some sort of organ. Upon closer inspection Malcador noticed that they were human lungs, blackened with what appeared to be various forms of disease.

“The donor of these was a heavy user of Iho and other various alcoholic beverages. As you can see by the various protrusions my Emperor, there are also various ending stages of lung cancer.” The lungs were still working, the Sigillite noticed how as he looked off to the side to see that they were still being fed blood and oxygen.

“Overall in this state, a patient with these could expect coughing blood, extremely labored breathing, chest pains, and finally, death within a standard Terran month.”

The Emperor nodded. “Have the breathing chemicals worked?”

The Apothecary quickly went to a nearby table and picked up a plastek flimsy. “They do sire, quite effectively. However, the mentioned side effects of Barbarus’ atmosphere do contain heavy addictory strains which would cause the addiction to it.”

“Have you managed to isolate these addictory strains?” The Apothecary nodded before quickly scuffling off to a cooling unit and taking out a silver pressurized canister.

“It took a lot of work, not to mention countless test subjects, an untold amount of reworking and numerous retracking, but yes my Emperor. May I present-” The Apothecary held out the silver canister, holding it as gently as if it was the most precious thing in existence. “-Renovatio, full rejuvenate capabilities of the entire respiratory system within one geniusly complexive chemical. A wonder my liege, but not surprising considering we based it off of the rejuve chemicals you yourself have developed for this world.”

The Emperor’s face was graced by a wide grin as he gingerly took the canister from the Custodes and ventured over to the digestorium, before attaching the canister to an air valve.

Immediately, He was surrounded by a team of Apothecaries, all of them holding various recording apparatuses in order to capture the moment for further testing. Another test before their Emperor put them all on edge, hoping that it was going to go as promised.

“Opening valve.” Said the Emperor as he slowly began to let in the bluish-pink gas into the chamber of the digestorium and everyone’s eyes kept careful watch on the lungs

“Canister spent.” The Emperor reported, and they all became glued to the glass, waiting for any type of effect to occur.

For a while there was nothing, for two minutes they sat and lost hope with each passing second. Perhaps their work would again be fruitless, further disappointing the Emperor and his request.

“There my liege! Central lung ventricle!” Reported one of the Apothecaries, and he was right; a healthy pinkish like texture was beginning to stream from the main ventricle throughout both of the lungs, looking like the effect of water when a drop of dye touched in.

“First tumor.” Noticed another Apothecary as the stream reached one of the black lumps. It pulsed and soon started to seize before seemingly relaxing and replacing the infected tissue with healthy red flesh. The effect continued to work with the next tumor, the next piece of destroyed tissue, all to the amazement of the Apothecaries, who were furiously taking notes and recording it all for future study. They were beyond thrilled they were able to accomplish such a task for their Emperor, while some could only watch as their own work amazed them, almost as if it were an artform.

“Testing successful.” Began one Apothecary before being cut off by Malcador.

“Fantastic… absolutely fantastic. I haven’t seen work like this since… The Golden Age...”

The lung worked through the sickness, taking an agonizing amount of time, but through it all, the pair of lungs were completely healed.

The Emperor’s grin was now palpable as He turned to the team who began to congratulate one another. Even though this was all for Mortarion, He knew right then and there that this could help another of his children, one whom even he couldn’t budge past the work of those damned creations...

“Contact Arkhan Land immediately, tell him to come here and that I have redecided on my synopsis about a certain part of archeotech and have need of his skills once more.”

**...  
** **The next day, Dawn  
** **...**

After a hard few weeks of work, the Primarch’s finally decided to take their well earned and needed rest. Rogal and Perturabo had luckily managed to build the holiday palace that would serve as their home and per the instruction of their father, had made all of the Primarch room entries share the same hall.

For the first time in many centuries, the Primarchs all slept peacefully. Being guarded by their gene-sons and the Custodes so that their sleep may yet go unhindered.

When dawn first began to break on the newly renamed world of Salutis, it was Mortarion who first awoke, never being one to actually sleep much even when compared to his brother Primarchs.

His eyes slowly fluttered open and he instinctively reached for the breathing regulator which usually sat by his bed, wanting to turn it from it's sleeping to its average mode. His hand reached out... only to find thin air.

His head whipped around and looked for the regulator, true to form however, it was gone. For a second he felt a panic course through his body even as the chill of anxiety went up his spine. He quickly stood and ran for the attached bathroom, going into the drawers to find the spare canister of his modified breathing gas to directly attach to his rebreather.

He went to grab one of the silver canisters and went to attach it to his mask that was supposed to be in the drawer, only to find it gone too.

Panic now gripping him, he ran toward the mirror, panting from the sheer amount of anxiety that was now coursing through his body.

He reached the mirror and looked up, taking in his own face for the first time in many years. No long the rebreather to mar his visage, just pale, stretched skin over a skull that must be his own. 

All manner of emotions rolled through him at the same time when he found an unknown face staring back at him. Shock, disbelief and surprise all at the same time swirled in his mind. The most prevalent was sheer, gripping panic that threatened to take over his entire being as every single part of him denied that what he was staring at could be his own visage.

He slowly brought his right hand up and gently caressed his cheek and proceeded to trail a finger over lips which were supposed to be heavily chapped from the rough chemicals of Barbarus’ atmosphere.

His respirator was gone. The corrupt skin was fading. He could breathe-

_He could breathe on his own!_

He took a deep breath, feeling his lungs expand on their own before exhaling and feeling them deflate properly into place. It stung, to have his lungs move and work on their own again after so long. But it was a pleasant pain, something to help him realise that it was not all a dream.

His eyes began to sting and blur, his mind wanting to so badly accept this new reality, that he could be free. But something deep in his mind was whispering dark thoughts, telling him that he was deluding himself, that there are just some conditions that could not be helped, that sometimes a cure simply did not exist.

It was all a dream, was what he thought to himself, a dream of longing after the impossible _._ There was no freeing himself from the shackles of his accursed disease, there couldn’t be, there was not-

Then he noticed his Father standing behind him in the mirror, halting his thoughts as he attempted to focus on his Father through the haze in his eyes.

“Good morning Mortarion.” Began the Emperor as He slowly walked up to his son. The radiance shining from him was unmistakable, even through the haze.

Every single fiber of Mortarion's body was radiating disbelief, even as his father finally reached him. “Impossible…” He finally whispered even as the Emperor stood beside him and he turned to fully face his father, his eyes stinging badly with unshed tears.

The sun then shone through the small window of the bathroom, lighting up Mortarion’s face. Showing the healing as it was already going through after just a night of work.

“As handsome as the day I first created you…” Said his father even as He ran a hand as gentle as if it were a feather, down his son’s face. The touch, the feeling enough to wash away the dark voice in his mind, telling him that if it was a dream, telling him that if there was no cure for his sickness, his life had far more meaning then simple bitterness, vengeance and to prove his own strength. His mind was free as he accepted the first real touch from his father in his known life.

“You… I...” Blurted out Mortarion, even as the tears finally began to flow, his own resolve shattering as he was humbled before his Father, who reached out and finally embraced him.

“Never again will you suffer my son.” He said in a determined voice even as Mortarion clung to his Father like a young child, the tears now flowing freely down his face.

“How… how did you know?” He managed to choke out between the tears, barely still being able to believe what had just happened. He hated how weak he felt, how he couldn’t stop it, no matter how hard he tried.

“I am your Father, Mortarion.” Said the Emperor in a quiet voice, even as He began to gently stroke the back of Mortarion's head. “Never have I been more blind to your plights than after Ullanor. No more.” The Emperor gently grasped Mortarion by his shoulders and pulled his son in front of him. “Now and always, you will be my son Mortarion. A true Primarch of the Imperium. A leader of humanity, and one of the greatest warriors of all time. And I swear it, never will I let you fall to the grasp of those who would seek to do you harm.”

“I don’t- I don’t forgive you. I don’t forgive you.” Mortarion whispered over and over again, not wanting to believe that his Father could do something like this for him, attempting in vain to deny the situation happening before him at this very moment, the very reason he could even breathe out the words that decried him. “I don’t forgive you.”

“I know, son.” The Emperor hugged his son tighter, not bothering to fight back the declaration. “I know.”

“I-I don’t. I don’t forgive you. I don’t.”

“And that’s okay.”

For the first time since he could ever remember, Mortarion felt a wave of peace overcome him. It was as if every tense muscle, every single fibre of his very being was loosened, he could feel the tension, anxiety and above all; the self loathing finally let go. The massive weight of anger, frustration, acceptance of sickness and loathing he felt for life fall away into the void even as his Father held him steady and he wept like a newborn held in its mother's arms.

Once and for all Mortarion was **_free_ **.

**…  
** **A couple of hours later, the main Banquet hall  
** **...**

The sun shone brightly through the massive windows of the banquet hall. The stunning greenery of the forests and various plants inhabiting them showed off a particularly beautiful scene in the morning light of the planet's cycle.

Magnus the Red stood by the central window, looking at the simple spectacle of a planet’s dawn and merely observing nature run its due course. The combined work of not just the Primarchs, but the Custodes, the Regent and the Emperor has done wonders for the planet Salutis.

The Rejuvenation and reconstruction of the world was a true marvel, one that they now all reaped the benefits of. And while Magnus was sure that most of his brothers were feeling far more at peace then they usually were, the World Eaters were particularly feeling the planet's surprising effects in full as well.

The instances of the Butcher’s Nails going off in surprising fashion had lessened by an exponential amount. Only heightened even more by the work of Ragio, who was able to work with the World Eaters and help ease their suffering just that little bit more. It worked so well in fact that many of the other legionnaires were reporting being able to actually interact properly with some of the more timid members of the XIIth legion for the first time since the whole legion was subject to the implementation of the butcher's nails.

But it was he himself who was truly the most affected by this world. Only recently learning of his brother's true nature and status had disheartened him, making his travels and study of the Great Ocean slow to a mere crawl, his Father’s warning of what his brother's role would have been had he yet lived echoed in his mind like a haunting call.

Yet at the same time he felt a… safeness. He felt as if he was being watched constantly by someone or something; not that that was unusual. There were many entities of the Great Ocean which often choose to look at Magnus from the beyond. But this felt _different_ , in all of the ways possible. The entity which spied upon him, or rather, looked over him appeared to be completely benevolent, protective even, as if it was clinging onto some last connections it had to this world.

His thoughts were cut off by the sounds of wood tapping against the marble floor, and he turned to see the Lord Sigillite hobbling into the room, leaning on his staff for support.

“Lord Sigillite.” Greeted Magnus politely even as Malcador made his way to him.

“Magnus.” Said Malcador in return even as he came to a halt by his side and stared out of the same window as Magnus was looking out of a moment before. “I feel that your mind is troubled.” Spoke the Sigillite in a plain voice even as Magnus’ eye spread apart in surprise as he looked down toward the ancient man who was giving him a wry grin. However, he soon relaxed knowing that of course the regent was able to guess what was on his mind.

“This planet is different.” Spoke Malcador as an answer to an unspoken question. “I can hear your thoughts far more clearly. Tell me of these struggles that you are having.”

Malcador's voice was old and raspy, but clear enough that Magnus could feel the good intent behind the words.

“I am being looked upon.” Finally said Magnus even as an expression of worry crossed his face. “A feeling I am well used to, however this one feels… different… it feels….”

“Familiar.” Malcador cut in as Magnus nodded his head absently.

“I do not know who though… other than it potentially being a fragment of… well _his_ psyche still attached to this plane of the worlds.”

“You are correct in your assessment Magnus.” Malcador praised, like a teacher pleased with his student, even as he shifted his weight fully onto his staff. “I sense his being here as cleanly as I sensed it in his gestation capsule when you two were but embryos.”

“But there is one part I do not understand.” Magnus turned to face the Sigillite. “How could his being have such a presence upon this world? He died on the moon with his people. How could this planet contain so much of him?”

A quiet sigh escaped Malcador as he turned and walked over to the massive table which lay in the center of the highly decorated room, before pulling out a chair and sitting down on it with a grunt, his old bones and muscles relaxing. “The strands of fate yet move unseen.” He spoke about as cryptically as an Eldar farseer. “Your brother may be dead, Magnus, but his fate refuses to pass on simply due to the sheer power of his psychic nature. He was meant to be your shield, and he will apparently continue to fulfill that destiny... whether you like it or not.”

Magnus could not decipher if he should have felt disturbed or relieved at that statement. Clearly his brother did not plan on leaving them all just yet, he must have felt as if he had to serve his purpose for a family he didn’t yet have the chance to know.

Before Magnus could ask another question, he felt it. He felt the presence of the souls of his family getting closer to the planet. How long has it been since he had seen his family? Ullanor was such a pressing event, with how long he had been away even before… last he remembered with them, Omorose hadn’t even been born yet. He knew she was born many months after he left and that she’s already around a standard Terran year old… But still, he wasn’t there. A child who had never seen her father before… would never if-

“Ah, you must be aware of how close they are.” Malcador intervened in his thoughts as he reclined in his chair, enjoying the scenery. “From my reports, they should be here in around… another week’s time. Enough time to spend getting everything ready.”

“Yes, thank you, Lord Sigillite. I admit that I have been feeling at a loss without them.” He confessed, turning back to the scenery of nature. “I do feel some apprehension, since many of my brothers may claim to accept them and want them to be a part of the family… People have a funny way of speaking their virtues yet never act upon them. I love my brothers and Father, I stand for the Imperium and it’s ideals... but I love and live for my children and wives.”

Magnus nodded as the room fell into silence for a moment..

“Is it wrong for me to have that piece of doubt?” Magnus finally voiced.

“Being wary is nothing to be ashamed of. These are your brothers, have a bit of faith in them. Your Father did go through His transformation to better understand and empathise with all of you. Granted, He needs time to adjust and not be overbearing. Give him a chance to form new opinions. Besides the man being obsessed with having grandchildren, He will most likely accept them with little discomfort.”

The Sigillite took a deep breath, enjoying the clean air, reminded of ancient Terra yet again. “But for now, allow yourself the chance to reconnect with your family, bond with your brothers and find more confidence in yourself, your bonds and everyone here who wants to support you.” He waved a hand at Magnus, relaxing further into the chair. “Now, please. Allow an old man the chance to rest before this palace is filled to the brim with loud, noisy children.”

Magnus could only shake his head, leaving the Lord Sigillite. “Last I recall, you called us noisy children all the time.” He answered over his shoulder, listening as Malcador only grunted at this.

He was almost out of the door as Malcador spoke up again.

“Oh, and Magnus.”

Magnus stopped in his tracks and looked over his shoulder at the Sigillite.

“One final bit of advice to keep in mind. Love is the death of duty.”

Magnus looked forward before responding.

“And duty is the death of love… I shall be careful Lord Sigillite.” With that, he strode out of the room and Malcador slowly closed his eyes, allowing the morning rays of sunlight to warm the old wrinkled skin of his face.

What the Sigillite would give if only their fallen comrades could enjoy a moment here, with them.

His peace did not last past a few calm minutes.

“Lord Sigillite.” Greeted the hard and guffawed voice of Leman Russ as he strode into the banquet hall, clad in Fenrisian noble attire.

“Leman.” Responded the Sigillite, long since reserving the courtesy of calling the Primarch by his first name since time saw them together for most of their adult life.

He turned his chair around even as Leman pulled out his own massive throne sized chair and sat upon it. It wasn’t long before serfs arrived and brought him a weak chilled ale in order for him to start his day. The serfs also began to light a few of the grand fireplaces that adorned the banquet hall in order to get rid of the early morning chill, an unnecessary thing to do seeming as all they needed to do in order to get rid of the chill would be to increase the temperature of the room in the control center. The entire palace had superior insulation and heating elements built into it’s very foundation, but the fireplaces did do marvels in order to ensure a more calming atmosphere. Their installation a direct order from the Emperor himself.

It wasn’t long before one of the two grand doors that lead into the banquet hall swung open and in walked Roboute Guilliman who wore his standard Macraggian uniform.

“A good morning to you both, Lord Sigillite, brother.” He intoned even as he took a seat on one of the massive chairs and ordered some mulled wine for breakfast. It came quickly and Guilliman slowly sipped on it even as Malcador took out his data-slate and began asking questions.

“What is it that you two had planned for this day?” The Sigillite’s voice was raspy and old as ever, but commanded the presence that it deserved. Both of the Primarchs looked up at the ancient one even as Leman answered.

“Me’ sons are settling down nicely, we even got some of the World Eaters and Iron Warriors to finally stop being so damn bitter about a bit of garrison duty and show them that there is more to this crusade than just fighting. Wolfin fuck, I just said that out loud.”

Malcador slowly nodded even as he made a few notes on his data-slate before inclining his head to Roboute who delicately put his cup of wine down on the table before answering.

“The logistical network is more or less finished. I have counted and ensured for a wide array of variables which it would easily be adaptable to. It took a few days, but the Imperial Fists and surprisingly, the Word Bearers have made it an easier job.”

“Good. Perhaps all that economical management the Word Bearers once had is returning to them the farther they get from Colchis.” Replied Malcador even as he added another note on his data-slate. “I know that your Father has the first official viewing session planned for today followed by a war council meeting. The Lords and Commanders on Terra shall be informed about our decisions after the council has had it’s session.”

“It feels like I just missed one!” Came the loud booming voice of Horus as he strode into the Banquet hall with a smile on his face. “Good morning to you all.” He bid even as he took a seat and ordered just some water in order to quench his morning thirst.

“Er ye’ didn’t miss much brother. I’m sure the Lord Sigillite here would have sent us a runner.”

Malcador nodded even as he gladly accepted a cup of recaff from a serf. “I would have, yes. The Importance of this war council can not be understated, it will impact the Imperiums borders, countless policies, and people in many ways that would take far too long to list, and I will not have anyone missing it. This is the first time all of you are under one roof, so we might as well make the best of it while the Emperor is still gathering his wits.”

It was Roboutes turn to speak as he had just remembered something. “This talk of borders has reminded me of something, how fare Konrad and Corvus? I haven’t heard from them for some time.”

“Well enough.” Came a deep and annoyed voice even as Konrad walked in from one of many smaller doors that lead into the hall. His pale face stood out particularly hard amongst his jet black hair and deep blue robe that he was wearing.

“I thought you were in the outer reaches of this sector Konrad?” Asked Horus even as Konrad took a seat and sent a surf scurrying away with an unkind look.

“I was until a couple of hours ago.” He answered even as one of his hands came up and he leant his head on it. “The entire sector has been scrubbed by Father long since past, the little raven and I ran into no… resistance.”

Malcador slowly raised his head even as he scribbled yet another note into his data-slate. “And no attempts at returning to Terra and getting at the Lion then?” Asked Malcador in a darker tone, his voice contained a dare to challenge his command.

Konrad grunted and slightly shook his head, knowing full well that the Sigillite had the Assassinorums spies on him at all times since the close incidents involving him and Lion at the Imperial Palace. He wouldn’t be able to enact his justice on Lion, no matter how justified it was, this time.

“Good.” Malcador confirmed, pleased that it was all going according to plan for once, as he went back to doing something on his data-slate. “Your Father’s judgement is final.”

Just then, distant chatter was heard in one of the two halls which lead into the Banquet hall. One of the two grand doors soon thereafter swung open to reveal Perturabo, Rogal Dorn, Vulkan and Ferrus Manus. The latter three of whom were listening intently as Perturabo was explaining what he would like his new armour to be like. The cables connecting his head to his spinal cord combined with his traditional Olympian dress and the addition of him waving his hands around as to better demonstrate his armour's new design made him look like an image directly taken from ancient Terran Graecia. Vulkan, Rogal and Ferrus politely inclined their heads in greeting toward their other brothers and the Sigillite before taking a seat with Perturabo and ordering four mugs of recaff for them all, Perturabo and Rogal no doubt still had a lot of planning and building to do in the sector while Vulkan and Ferrus would be working on Perturabo’s new armour.

The four Primarchs looked strangely normal in that moment, just four brothers discussing armour design. If one could, of course, overlook how massive Vulkan managed to still appear in his Nocturnean robe, the fact that Rogal looked every bit his Imperial title in his official uniform as Emperor of the House of Dorn, and of course the fact that Ferrus, being the Gorgon, was in addition to having the mechadendrites sprouting from his back already sketching something on a piece of plastek flimsy even as his metallic hands moulded something at the same time from a small pile of modeling clay.

Afterwards, many of the others joined the family at the table. Sanguinius and Fulgrim both walked in together, both dressed in splendid robes which befit their keen eyes for artifice. They were followed by Corvus and Jaghatai Khan, the two of whom were comparing terrain reports of the planet, or rather Corvus was speaking and the Khan was listening, every now and then agreeing and or adding a tidbit of information.

Then came Magnus and Lorgar, their pairing surprised the ones who noticed them entering but any questioning looks were soon satisfied when they noticed that the two brothers were discussing at length on Psykers. No doubt Magnus was explaining the nature of the Warp to Lorgar in a more detailed manner, helping to guide the freshly awoken psyker Primarch during this unusual time.

Seeing how Lorgar and Magnus entered the hall and what they were speaking of, most would think this would cause a rift to grow between the brothers, since Leman and Corvus had shown a true hatred for psykers in the past, but now, surprisingly it was absent from the family. Over the viewing of vids from Text to Speech, different timelines and events from the future, their outlook of psykers had changed. Corvus could not bring the same animosity towards them as in the past once he finally learned the true nature of his wraith slip, and Leman couldn’t bring himself to continue his own hypocritical anger at the psyker’s unnatural abilities. They both simply accepted that another of their brothers was fully awakening to his abilities, a far cry from where they first began. Now, actual consideration had grown between the brothers, instead keeping their words to themselves to avoid another possible rift growing between them all once more.

Soon they heard the tell tale booming voice of the Emperor coming from outside the Banquet hall. He sounded as if he was talking to someone, although no Primarch could tell from the other person’s voice alone as to who it was; no one but Malcador it seemed. For his part, the Lord Sigillite had put away his data-slate and was eagerly looking toward one of the two Great doors.

He didn’t have to wait long, the door swung open and in walked the Emperor with a massive human by his side. While the Emperor was clothed in his typical regal attire the individual by his side wore much plainer and simpler robes. As the Emperor took his seat at the head of the table, the man took a seat on his right.

Leman had a feeling as if he knew this person, his mind making connections in seconds as it started to click. The same height, the same feeling, the same everything except with a missing resp- “Mortarion?!” Came a loud bark of disbelief from Leman as he apparently finally recognised his brother.

A small, almost missable smile answered him as Mortarion actually smiled at them.

“Leman.” He greeted before turning his head to face the rest of his brothers and Malcador. “Brothers, Lord Sigillite.” He looked away, hiding a coy look that was beginning to form on his face.

The Primarchs simply sat in silence for a while, none of them quite believing what they were seeing. It was Horus who finally beat the silence. “How?” He simply asked even as Mortarion looked at the Emperor.

The Emperor had a broad grin as he spoke. “I have been studying Mortarion's breathing chemicals for a while now, after I used them in order to engineer the rejuvenation chemicals for this planet. It was rather easy for my Apothecaries to distill a much more focused strain for Mortarion's respiratory system.”

“I… I didn’t think it possible.” Said Magnus in even greater surprise.

“Neither did we.” spoke up two Primarchs from the end of the table. The family turned to see none other then Alpharius and Omegon sitting at the end of the table even as they were dressed in their plain clothes, drinking some unknown liquid.

“It is a marvel!” Said Lorgar then, not caring that the twins were up to their old tricks yet again.

“Agreed.” Chimed in Roboute. “So many lives can be saved with this, just thinking of the possibilities gives me hope.”

The occasional words soon smoothly transitioned into a calm and quiet chatter even as the platters of food arrived and the family finally began to break their fast. Causing many brothers include Mortarion in their conversations, welcoming this new step for their usually easily irritable brother.

When their meals were finally finished, the Emperor slowly stood and began to speak.

“My sons, Malcador. I believe it is finally time for the first actual viewing session. To focus on the present, we need to have a better grasp on the future and anything else we can find in these messages. So without further adieu, let us make our way to the viewing room to begin.”

The Lord Sigillite stood, followed quickly by the Primarchs as they began making their way to the viewing room centered at one of the palace's many grand rooms. As they walked some of the brothers began talking to one another, various different topics and words exchanged, but by far the most meaningful and important one between Ferrus and Fulgrim. The two brothers lagged behind the rest of the party in the palace’s gilded halls, the topic Fulgrim had brought up being a difficult one for the relationship the two had shared so far.

“I know you don’t care much for children.” Began Fulgrim in an honest tone even as the Gorgon raised his eyebrows. “You consider them weak little things who barely saw the true nature of this galaxy. For a time, I actually agreed with your outlook on them.”

“Where are you going with this brother?” Asked Ferrus in a slightly surprised tone.

Fulgrim sighed and answered. “I know you have no intent or want to meet your niece, my daughter, Rosalina. But I would be honored if you would at least lay your eyes upon her, I would like for her to know all of her uncles.”

Ferrus stopped in his tracks, followed soon thereafter by Fulgrim. The two now stayed behind completely even as the rest of their family moved on. “And why do you think so of me?” Asked Ferrus, the tone of his voice showed that he was in fact hurt by the suggestion.

Fulgrim quickly raised his hands in defense as he answered. “I meant no disrespect brother, but it is well known you have no love for children. I do not judge, I have no ground to stand upon due to my own past.”

Ferrus breathed a deep sigh even as his eyes found the floor. “It is true, I harbor no love for children.” His tone was deep and full of truth, but there was also a hint of… sadness and regret. “I do not trust myself.” Continued the Gorgon. “How can I even hold a child with these hands of mine brother?” His tone changed completely, to one of worry now. “How can I trust myself to handle something as innocent and delicate as a newborn? These hands were meant for only one thing, Fulgrim, and that is war.” Ferrus sounded as if he resented himself then, the emotions playing on his face betraying how he truly felt about the nature of his unnatural gift. “These hands allow me to craft marvels. To create things that no other beings alive could even dream of brother… but they are a curse nonetheless.”

Fulgrim knew of the pain Ferrus spoke of, every fibre of his being experienced the sorrow which his brother was showing then and there. “I thought you believed the flesh to be weak?” Finally said Fulgrim, his voice raw with emotion even as Ferrus lightly shook his head. He knew Ferrus had little love for the imperfections of flesh, had heard of his ideals and his stances many times before, even sharing them at a time. But once he gained a new perspective and had to become something more than just a tool of war, only then did he finally allow these ideas to be brought before the harsh light of truth.

“Yes. For a time I did. I thought the flesh weak. Why would a human ever be content with weak muscle and bone I thought? They wither away, with time they rot and become dust. I thought adamantium and cabling were a fit replacement for them.”

He paused to take in another breath and to look at Fulgrim, his eyes now full of resolve.

“And now?” Gently asked Fulgrim.

“I have changed my mind.” Lightly spoke Ferrus as he turned to look at his hands. “I have watched our entire family experience the delight which comes with their own offspring, including you. Even the darker and more painful side of these bonds, or lack thereof.” With a pained expression Ferrus now looked Fulgrim in his eyes. The Phoenician could swear that he felt his brother's grief in his own heart as he continued to speak. “I will never experience that. How can I hold a child without risk of crushing it to death with these accursed hands of mine? How can I even properly talk to them if I think them so weak… how can I even like my nieces and nephews if they can barely stand the sight of me?”

Ferrus’ words cut deep into Fulgrims heart. For a moment there was silence between the two brothers. None of them found the words to speak at that moment until Fulgrim slowly opened his mouth.

“I trust you.”

Ferrus’ head whipped up to look at his brother even as he spoke in a shocked voice. “You do?” He asked even as a humorless laugh escaped from Fulgrims mouth.

“Brother… I trust you with my life a thousand times over. I have followed you into every battle we have ever fought together with my full confidence and would do so again in a heartbeat if you were to ask that of me.” Fulgrim stepped closer to his brother and grabbed both of Ferrus’ hands by his forearms, as he lifted them in front of their faces he continued to speak. “And I trust you with my daughter. You speak that these hands of yours were meant for nigh but war, but you forget the delicate jewelry for the artifice of magnificent weaponry they have made in the past. The intricate wiring of power armour that they have weaved and the gentle manipulations that they have done for black carapace modifications. I ask you now brother, if they are so capable of doing those things, things that require the most gentle and caring of hands, are they truly not capable of holding a child?”

“They are cold-” Spoke Ferrus even as Fulgrim reached out and stabbed a pointed finger at his brother's chest.

“The warmth comes from here brother. The true warmth.” Fulgrim grasped his brother by his shoulders even as his eyes had a serious look on them. “I would trust you with Rosalina above all others. Even our father. You are her uncle, and my brother, nothing will ever change that.”

Ferrus sighed, knowing his brother was adamant about all of this.

“And it would make me happy to have you named as her godfather.” Ferrus nearly choked before he could ponder what it would mean. “It is an old Terran tradition, where a parent would find someone they trust above all else to be the godparent of their child, effectively making them another parent. If the original parent were to ever be gone, for any reason, the godparent would be the one to care for and raise the child. Like I said, I trust you above even father, and I would trust you with the most precious of all of my treasures.” He smiled softly before taking a few steps back and turning to where the rest of the family had gone. “Just think of it? I will not hold it against you if you say no, but it would mean the galaxy to me if you said yes.”

Ferrus nodded, the two of them walking briskly to catch up to the rest of the family. Fulgrim having said everything he needed to say could only wait for when Ferrus would give his answer. And Ferrus… only wonder if he was even good enough for such a task.

Only time would tell.

As they finally caught up to the family they had just begun to enter the viewing room and take their respective seats. Each one getting comfortable for the no doubt, long viewing session ahead of them.

“Magos Lehm, a main chapter if you would so please.” Ordered the Emperor even as Magos Lehm moved and inserted a holodisk into the projector, murmured a litany for smooth mechanical movement and started up the projector.

“I’m going to need a quick summary of everything that has happened first, if I’m going to be able to follow **any** of this.” Malcador spoke, getting comfortable and waiting for someone to say something. “On Terra, when all of you came back, you only told me what happened during your time on the Bucephalus and your… _‘bonding’_ time. Not to mention what happened to Lion and Angron. If I’m going to watch this with you, I need to know what’s going on.”

Roboute cleared his throat, sitting a bit straighter. “Might as well be me, since this all started with everyone wanting to poke fun at my expense. We met my future son, Aegidius roughly ten millennia in the future, the future has been getting worse with each vid and we found out that Father's soul has been reincarnated into the body of my son.”

“Continue.” Gently said Malcador even as he once more took out his data-slate and began making notes.

“The future has a Human-Eldar alliance and the Imperium has shattered after Father died and Terra imploded. What is left of it is slowly decaying, everything is getting worse with each vid we watch. From what we have gathered, there used to be issues of overcrowding, like with how we witnessed Macragge and it’s new layout with cramped buildings and fortress like walls, starvation, since we seem to be having issues with Agri-worlds and combined with the overcrowding issues, logistical issues and just about shortage of every material required for the war front, all those war room meetings point to this as well. Agri-worlds are being lost and gained at an inconsistent rate, daemon incursions are happening and or reaching the new mainworld, Macragge, and we have Primarchs coming back to help support what’s left of the Imperium. One of the most recent of which is Rogal, thanks to whom, the overcrowding situation has apparently mostly been resolved and our borders lay far more secure… however….”

“I really don’t like where this is going.”

“Neither do I. Thankfully, the Companions and some extra Custodes were able to make their way to the Imperium Secundus and spend their days guarding Aegidius. When he ran away from home for a short time-”

“-And you broke down and started to lecture a bloody vid.” Cut in Leman who snickered.

“Thank you, Leman, for that imperative addition. To the utter horror that I felt at my son running away to a war zone. And almost feeling as if my life was drained away after watching him nearly die after our Father would only say, to trust him, and in no way reassured me or anyone else about what was going to happen…” Roboute took a deep breath before continuing. “... It is only then that we find out the real bond between my son and the Emperor.”

“This happened?” Malcador sighed, rubbing at his temples. Revelation was up to his old tricks and made life worse for everyone there again and waving over a serf in order to bring him something for his quickly growing headache.

Roboute cleared his throat. “After that cavalcade of heart attacks and aneurysms waiting to happen, we found out that cultist guardsmen were on a moon near Macragge. So close, that warp travel was only around a few standard hours. We got to watch my son make his first kill, nearly be attacked by an army of traitors and then be saved and taken back home. We left off with Mortarion rejoining us, somehow managing to switch sides due to his soul being bound to the Eldar Goddess, Isha, and apparently raising a son with her and escaping with a part of his legion to join us.” He sat back, “That is essentially everything that happened, Lord Sigillite.”

“Of course, there were the origins of more children, and even more insight on the affairs of the future. But so far, yes, that’s everything that has happened, Lord Sigillite.” Sanguinius intoned, filling in on the side vids that Roboute had skipped on.

Malcador, sighed and looking every bit his age, taking this surprisingly well. “So our worst fears are happening on screen and there isn’t a thing we can do but watch as there are attempts made to repair them?”

“Essentially.” The Emperor nodded at him. “All we can do is press on, use what we find here to help make our present a brighter one than what we see here. And hope there is a better ending for the children of the future while we make sure to avoid this as best as possible in our timeline before it actually happens. It’s actually why I have scheduled a war council assembly upon this world.”

Malcador gave his eyes one final rub before leaning back and motioning for Magos Lehm to finally play the vid.

The feed finally began to play.

**…  
** **209.M42 - Macragge, Fortress of Hera  
** **...**

The vid opened on what looked like a smaller war room, an open table in the middle with a battle map which featured a hololithic projection of terrain with various figures on top which were spread out. Aegidius stood to one side of the table, he looked to have grown another head taller and seemed to be thicker with new muscle and tone. His baby fat was finally shedding away to show the man he was becoming. The square shape of his jaw prominent and his own patrician features finally shining forth as he was blossoming into a man.

Roboute: “There he is. That’s Aegidius and… He’s really starting to look like a man now.”  
Malcador: “I figured. Children do tend to grow up at some point, you know.”  
Roboute: “I know, I know. We just started watching all of this when he was little and adorable and now I’m seeing him practically almost a man.”  
Emperor: “Now you know how I feel. I saw all of you as embryos and then only saw you all again once you were all adults.”

On the opposite end of the table was Commissar Yarrick, who was moving pieces on the board, his army working against Aegidius’s. When he was done, he tapped a finger against the table, looking back up at the young teen. “That move is never going to work. The enemy has the high ground and is very likely to spot you as soon as you make a move like that. Get your head out of the gutter and focus. You're not always going to be surrounded by advisors to help you all the time, especially not on the field.”

Aegidius sighed, arms crossed as he kept staring at the board. He focused on the task, holding his grandfather back from trying to butt in and give his ‘suggestions’.

**I told you, you should let me play and you watch. I have more experience in this and we only have so much time before your ascension to the Imperial Throne. You would learn far faster by seeing a master at work.**

Malcador: *Glaring at Emperor*  
Emperor: “...okay fine, I forgot to tell you Malcador. The future me is quite… terrible. But to be fair, this is me after suffering on the Golden Throne for ten-thousand years and being torn apart all this time-”  
Malcador: “So they all know about everything?”  
Emperor: “ _Yes_ , they know about everything, so we don’t have to hide our plans anymore.”  
Malcador: “Fine. But I just hope no one overhears us talking about all of this…” *Staring at Magos Lehm*  
Magos: “Not to worry, Omnissiah. My cogitators are not connected to any database that can be looked into by any outside forces.”  
Emperor: “Keep it that way, Magos.”

Aegidius brought a hand up to his face, pinching the bridge of his large nose. _Grandfather, I need to learn on my own. You need to stop butting in on my lessons._ He thought to himself, trying to keep the whole, ‘talking to himself’ thing under wraps. It was already bad enough everyone thought that he was out to kill himself or that he was simply irresponsible, especially after the incident on Bastonye.

It was as if they were trying to rile him up and make him lash out. Then where would everyone be? Knee deep in daemons causing havoc and killing untold millions yet again, _which_ would be his fault again according to his _resident Lich_.

Malcador: “The Astronomicon within him is fickle enough that a simple temper tantrum would cause that much damage?”  
Emperor: “Precisely. It’s been a problem quite a bit so far in the vids. He’s getting better, but it was disconcerting to see how much destruction was caused because Aegidius couldn’t control his own emotions.”  
Malcador: “It’s a recipe for disaster. Children can not control their emotions very well, and yet his tantrums cause this to happen?”  
Emperor: “Indeed. It’s terrible.”

 **Yes, but how will you learn if I don’t come in and tell you what you’re doing wrong?** **_You_ ** **need to keep up, I can’t have you lagging behind when you need to be at your best. You only have two more years before you are physically ready for your coronation and taking on the title of Emperor in official capacity.**

Aegidius shuddered, trying not to think about the looming responsibility that was threatening to come crashing down on him. _Because I_ **_definitely_ ** _asked for that._

**It’s not about what you want, it’s about-**

_The good of the Imperium, yeah yeah_ ** _I get it._** He added bitterly, ignoring his grandfather’s same bit of advice for the umpteenth time and focusing back to the exercise. Before he could answer and do anything to move his men, Yarrick held a hand up, forcing him to look up at his teacher.

Roboute: “I’m sorry, Aegidius.”  
Magnus: “It’s not your fault, all of us keep telling you that.”  
Roboute: “I still feel as if it’s my fault. I was the one who forced him to practically abandon his childhood, I was the one to throw so much more responsibility onto him, I was the one who forced him to become what everyone else needs, I was the one who was ready to sacrifice his happiness for the good of all in this future. No matter what, I keep thinking about how much I hate this and it’s my fault.”  
Emperor: “I know how hard it is, I really do.”  
Roboute: “Thank you… Father…”

“We’re cutting off here. You obviously can’t focus right now, even after you losing six games already. Get your rest and we will reconvene at another time.” He spoke sternly at the young ruler, who bowed his head away. “Six losses, six armies. If this was a real battle, you would have wasted your human resources with nearly nothing to show for it, and all of that war material would go to complete waste which could result in you losing an entire front. Focus and get yourself out of your head, then come back and try again. Study more real-time strategy and how to adapt to situations more quickly by yourself, your thinking is far behind and it truly shows. At this very moment you are more of a hazard to your field commanders than an aid. Rest and recuperate if need be, but I know you possess the capability to do better than this.”

Get out of his head? Thinking far behind?! Hardly, his mind was supposed to be _his_ own domain, but he had to share with s _omeone else who wouldn’t leave him alone and constantly tried to go off and lead the Imperium when he should be_ **_resting_ ** _._

**To be fair, Aegidius, you are resting. Your body can handle a few restless nights while I do what I can to help support what’s left of my Imperium. This is for the betterment of mankind as a whole, if only you followed my advice-**

_Yes, yes, your Imperium, your work, everything is second to what you want. How dare I ask for a little sympathy._ Aegidius thought forcefully as he extracted himself from his training room, immediately flanked by two Custodes. _I bet you can’t wait for the day you can fully assert yourself through me, just like on Bastonye. Oh, how about you just take my body? Hm? I’m not much use._

 **You ask for sympathy, boy, then follow up with ludicrous suggestions.** Aegidius could _feel_ the Emperor shake his head disapprovingly. **What is sympathy for you compared to the plight and future of two entire species that is expected to be led one day by you? Me taking over and doing what I can to help is far from being the malevolent being you so clearly want to see me as, if I could have bypassed you as soon as I could have.**

 _Ugh, don’t you talk down to me. I’m more observant than you think I am, you Lich. I’m mad cause you are taking over_ **_my_ ** _body, you damned wraith! Having you here, taking up space in my mind, in my body, latching onto my soul is one of the worst feelings I can imagine! Of course I see you as a malevolent, malignant_ **_tumor_ ** _!_

 **Oh, fine! See me as a tumor! I was the one who saved this body when you decided to go off and be a selfish idiot by going to Bastonye because having a schedule is** **_difficult_ ** **. Woe is to you child! The thousand agonizing screams of the martyrs of Mankind and the Aeldari** **_sympathise_ ** **with you! Does that make you feel better boy? Sweet nothings with no meaning? This is** **_not_ ** **about you, Aegidius, it’s about** **_my_ ** **Imperium and all you are doing is being a** **_selfish child_ ** **who is failing to see the bigger picture and is very quickly becoming a** **_detriment_ ** **.**

 _Are you saying that my body is property of the Imperium now!? Yes sir, I belong to your Imperium, I have no will of my own, I am but a mere servant, a slave to what you and everyone else wants of me! The more you and everyone else talks about humanity this, your Imperium that, the more_ **_I simply don’t care._ ** _You know what? Why should I care about humanity at this point? Because you say so?_

**No.**

_Why?_

**Because if you do not care, if you do not take the mantle which was given to you at your very birth. Everyone you care for, dies.**

Aegidius did not respond, he turned from his tutor and punched a hole into the nearest wall with all of his contained fury before moving past the crumbling area. He refused to give his resident Lich the satisfaction of being right with the confirmation of only his silence.

Instead, he turned and walked, clamping down upon his mind, shutting out the Emperor for as long as possible, unable to avoid the feeling of emptiness which followed suit. It always ended the same, no matter what he said or how he acted.

He walked out of the strategium, looking to the right, to Pupponius, his ever trusted caretaker even as another Custodes took the left, bringing a small frown to Aegidius’ face. Sicarius was by his side fewer and fewer these days, being far too busy being their father’s equerry, and when Aegidius would ascend to the title of Emperor of Mankind for all… he would lose even him. 

But that was in the future. No point in arguing over it at the moment.

“What is my schedule looking like for the rest of the day, Pupponius?”

Malcador: “You both have a point and are equally at fault here.”  
Emperor: “Thank you Malcador, I noticed.”  
Malcador: “From what I’m gathering, both you and Aegidius are acting out and hurting each other, but have a good reason to. But at the same time, both of you are wrong for wanting to fight each other. No one is right, no one is wrong.”  
Emperor: “This is why you’re my second in command, you just seem to see everything as it should be.”  
Malcador: “Well, I’m your second in command because I don’t take any of your shit, Revelation.”  
Emperor: “That too.”

“You are able to make time for an extra resting period, my liege. After, we will escort you to your newest teacher, a beyond competent instructor for Void Combat and Naval Warfare has recently been rediscovered and has been made to comply. Your father has already agreed to have you learn from him as soon as possible.” Pupponious intoned without missing a beat, continuing to walk alongside his Emperor.

Of course. Of course he would be signed up to meet with _another_ instructor that would absorb more of his already limited time. Of course he would only be made aware of it hours before it even happened. Without stopping his stride, he only nodded and accepted that he was going to be dragged off to another lesson whether he liked it or not. He was simply glad that it was just another lesson and not more surgeries or augmentation sessions…

“Who is it, if I may ask?”

“Lord High Admiral Spire, my liege.”

Emperor: “OH! It’s Spire!”  
Roboute: “Oh, good it’s Spire! He’ll make an excellent teacher!”  
Malcador: “Who is Lord Admiral Spire?”  
Vulkan: “Lord Admiral Spire is a great naval commander of the Imperial Navy! We saw his story from the vids of Battlefleet Gothic 1 and 2!”  
Malcador: “Battlefleet Gothic…?”  
Lorgar: “A hologame set in the same future of the 40th millennium. It’s both playable and also a series of just holovids for people wanting to experience the story.”  
Malcador: “Right… Of course…”

**...**

A lander emblazoned with the heradly of the Imperial Navy gently touched down upon one of the free landing pads even as eight heavily augmented warriors belonging to the Skitarii of the marked Head Forge World of Konor stood by patiently as the boarding ramp of the lander opened and the pressure valves released steam to cool down the engines.

As the ramp hit the floor, the eight Skitarii marched up to it in perfectly synchronized fashion and presented their weaponry as Fabricator General Belisarius Cawl walked down the boarding ramp with Lord Admiral Spire by his side, the latter relying heavily on his cane in order to keep pace.

Roboute: “Konor is the new head forge world? Interesting.”  
Emperor: “And Cawl is the new Fabricator General. I can see that happening in the future. Mars is gone in this reality, so a new Head Forge World and Fabricator General would be needed.”  
Malcador: “Ah yes, because you quote enquote, ‘yeeted’ Terra out of existence.”

*Primarchs shudder at this*

Fulgrim: “Do not. Ever. Say that word again Lord Sigillite. I beg of you!”  
Malcador: “What? I’m just using the same type of words you youngsters are using nowadays.”  
Magnus: “Lord Sigillite, please. You are much better than this.”  
Malcador: “What? Sorry, my hearing is going. Try again later.”

*Malcador smiled, showing that he in fact still had a good sense of humor. Causing some of the Primarchs to chuckle while others breathed a sigh of relief.*

Emperor: “You done now, Mal?”  
Malcador: “Yes, yes. Ruining my fun. It’s not everyday I get the chance to be an annoying old person for a good laugh.”

“I thank you for your service Fabricator General. Not many of your caliber or status would travel so far in order to simply save an aging Admiral.”

There was a sound of dismissal from the Cawl’s voxmitters as he spoke back. “I am merely performing my duty to the Omnissiah, Lord Guilliman insists that you are far more useful alive than dead, thus, I comply with his wishes.”

Spire nodded wistfully as they finally reached the end of the ramp. Cawl had barely been able to replace the ancient Admiral’s heart with a mechanical replacement. A strange feeling nonetheless, but the Fabricator General had taken the opportunity to perform many more inner body augmentations upon Spire, he had even inserted an organ or two, although Spire knew not what their duty was. He had barely convinced the talented former Magos to be allowed to keep his own biological legs, Cawl insisted that Spire needed to have them replaced with mechanical ones. And while it was true that his knees and the muscles of his legs tended to hurt badly from time to time, and cause him to limp enough that he needed a cane, however it was better to feel the pain than become fully cybernetic…

Spire had given his entire life in service to both the Emperor and the Imperium. He would be damned if he could no longer stand on his own two legs and perform his solemn duty.

Emperor: “Nothing worse than a soldier forced into a chair.”  
Malcador: “Exactly. The apothecaries keep trying to tell me to use a chair, but I keep telling them I’m fine to keep walking and the next one to tell me that will be in their own.”

The two continued walking toward the beginning of the landing pad, even as the Skitarri walked alongside them as their escort, the clanging of their metallic feet echoing off for a while even in such a busy War Dock as this. “I had heard that you are to patrol the outer edges today with the young Prince.” Rasped out Cawl’s voxmitters even as Spire’s face gained a thoughtful look.

Leman: “‘Patrol the outer edges’. Right.”  
Magnus: “I can’t see anything going wrong there.”  
Sanguinius: “Definitely just a patrol.”  
Konrad: “Completely safe.”  
Lorgar: “No incursions anywhere!”  
Roboute: “All of you are making me anxious, stop it.”

“Yes. The Prince himself has been assigned to me. I must admit I am not looking particularly forward to showing him off the actual state of our Imperium. The propaganda must have been effective, since from what I have heard of the Prince, he is quite sheltered.”

There was a wave from one of Cawl’s mechadendrites. “I believe he shall be cooperative to a _satisfactory_ degree. From what I have analysed, the boy’s behaviour is most… unnatural yet advanced for his age and upbringing.”

Roboute: “I wonder _why_.”

The two finally came to a halt, having reached the main part of the War Docks. “If what you say is true Fabricator General, then I shall be more than glad to help prepare the Prince for War. But I am still worried about taking a child onto my bridge, even if he will have an armoured escort.”

Soon the quiet chatting around the two ancients increased in volume, then people began to gather in larger amounts, soon there was a full on crowd essentially blocking off the main entrance to the Docks. Both Human and even some Aeldari workers attempted to get a look at the boy Prince.

Malcador: “Hearing about the Eldar alliance and actually seeing it are two very different feelings.”  
Magnus: “And how do you feel about it?”  
Malcador: “Well, I don’t feel a burning hatred and a need for them to die, and I still remember the days your Father and I ran around the galaxy in a group with a few Aeldari in tow. Granted, most of our fun ended up with someone dying or something exploding.”  
Horus: “Was she a part of it?”  
Malcador: “Oh yes she was.”  
Magnus: “Who?”  
Horus: “Ask Father. I’m sure he’d love to answer.”  
Emperor: “Moving. On.”

“The Prince has arrived.” Stated Cawl as a matter of factly. Indeed Aegidius seemed to have arrived with his full escort of no less than a shield host of twelve Custodes. A formidable force in battle to say the least, and an even bigger one for morale as it seemed. Every single person on that dock, no matter if they were not even above the standard ranks all the way up to the officers were attempting to look at their crown Prince as he made his way toward Spire and Cawl. After a few minutes of looking at the crowd, the people at the end of it finally split in order to allow Aegidius with his corridor of Custodes to pass by.

Spire quickly analyzed the boy, or rather as he appeared to be, _man_. For a boy of fourteen standard Terran years he was massive, although Spire quickly assigned that factor to all the augmetic surgeries the child must have undergone. 

The Prince wore a set of heavy Flak armor, as power armor made for him now would most likely simply be outgrown shortly after. As he came closer he saw the details of Aegidius’ face and spotted the traces of his father Primarch in his facial features, it appeared as if the Prince’s mother only came through in lending her son the typical Aeldari ears and eyes, as Aegidius’ body appeared to have taken on the bulky build of his father as well. The fact of the union between the Primarch and the Emissary had been a pleasant surprise, waiting for him at the bottom of a pile of problems that would make even an Inquisitor of the famed ordo Malleus go insane.

Roboute: “Looking at him here and seeing him in his flak armor, I really am seeing how much he looks like me. My jaw, my nose, my brow, it’s odd to see it reflected in him.”  
Perturabo: “At least he isn’t a near clone of you like Rogal and Friedrich.”  
Magnus: “Or Lion and Gabriel.”  
Roboute: “True, very true…”

“My Prince.” Finally greeted Spire even as he slowly went to one knee before Aegidius.

The boy looked down at him with a puzzling stare before quickly realizing that he was supposed to motion for the Admiral to raise. “Please, stand.” He quickly spoke even as Spire got back on his feet with no small amount of pain.

“My liege.” Then further spoke Spire. “May I present, the Fabricator General of the Adeptus Mechanicus, Belisarius Cawl.” Spire humbly motioned toward the massively augmented human who stood by his side.

Cawl for his part gently intoned his head toward the Prince before speaking. “Greetings, my liege. An interesting honour that we finally meet for the first time that your cognitive functions can remember.”

Aegidus’ eyebrows flew up at that. “We have met before Fabricator General?” He asked in a surprised tone even as Cawl’s voxmitters powered up again.

“Indeed. You were but twenty-two standard Terran days and 3 standard Terran hours old. I helped test your entire genome and designed everything from your everyday nutrients to the way your muscles were exercised. So many unknown variables those were back then, you were by far the most interesting being next to your father that I have ever had the pleasure of analyzing. I also see the augmetics are coming along at a fair rate, I shall have to inform my Tech Priests that you will be ready for the next ones soon.”

Aegidus visibly winced. The surgeries were painful at best and outright torturous at their worst. His entire body’s DNA being re-coded by one single organ was not something Aegidius wanted to experience ever again. “I uh… thank you for taking such good care of me Fabricator General.” Aegidius turned to face Spire again, the man's face painted the picture of one who had fought in a thousand battles and won a hundred wars. Aegidius chose his next words carefully, even he knew that he was standing in the presence of one who was essentially a living legend at this point. “Lord Admiral Spire, I would like you to uh… brief me about what we shall be uh… doing on this mission.”

Roboute: “...did he just artificially deepen his voice to sound more mature for the Lord Admiral?”  
Fulgrim: “Yes, yes he did.”  
Magnus: “Leave him alone, he’s still a boy and wants to be seen as mature for someone he respects. I remember when Tyrion, my eldest, did that a few times to… people who… weren’t me.”  
Leman: “Are ye’ alright?”  
Magnus: “I’m fine, fine… Just remembering that my eldest hates me.”  
Lorgar: “Why?”  
Magnus: “The little bastard called me a nerd and refuses to learn how to use his powers! He’s insistent on learning how to become a warrior and being a bit of a snot about it.”  
Konrad: “Called it!”  
Vulkan: “Little Tyrion must have a reason for why he is acting this way?”  
Magnus: “I don’t know! Tyrion just one day decided he hates me and wants nothing to do with my work.”  
Mortarion: “Maybe it’s because you’re gone all the time?”  
Magnus: “Shut up Mortarion you- Wait, is that actual advice?”  
Mortarion: “Yes? I don’t really have it in me at this point.”  
Magnus: “Oh… Well that's good? And you might actually have a point. Maybe I can finally break through and get to the root of the issue when he’s here?”  
Mortarion: “That’s all you can do.”

Aegidius glanced at one of the Companions nervously, who gave the boy a thumbs up before they looked back to Spire.

“Please walk with me, my liege.” Immediately responded Spire as he slowly began hobbling back to the lander with his cane. Aegidius turned to say farewell to the Fabricator General only to find him missing. How such a behemoth of an augmented person managed to quietly disappear was beyond Aegidius' thoughts at that moment as he began to follow Spire, his host of Custodes following in his track.

“Our mission is to patrol the outer edges of Imperium Secundus my liege, furthermore I am to instruct you on both the dangers and nuances of void combat. If we are unlucky we may run into pirates and a skirmish might occur.”

Vulkan: *Eye twitch*

“How much danger will this pose to his highness?” Interrupted one of Aegidius Shield Captains, ever worried for the safety of his Emperor.

“Not much at all.” Said Spire with a confident face. “The Pirates tend to avoid larger Imperial fleets and war ships. And if they do attack, their technology most typically does not allow them to directly attack our bridge.”

“My liege! Please halt!”

The group stopped even as they looked back toward the main part of the port. A Chapter Serf in what appeared to be Space Wolf colors was running toward them. “My liege! I apologize for interrupting yer…” The serf explained even as he panted heavily. “There is… there was a request from the Wolf King…”

Leman: “Oh great! I get to do something!”  
Ferrus: “Hey, at least you’re not dead.”  
Leman: “True, but hey! I get to do things!”

Aeigidus' eyes immediately took on a look of surprise. A request from his uncle Leman? He had never actually talked much to his Uncle, unsurprisingly the Primarch didn’t find the company of children entertaining and was far too busy to even spend time with even his own daughter, especially after it was apparently decided that she would not travel back to Fenris after her time lost in the warp. So what did he want with Aegidius?

“...Lord Russ requests that you take a few more as part of your retinue.”

It was Pupponius who stepped forth from Aegidius’ Shield Host of Custodes. “Who are these individuals?” Spoke Pupponius on his masters behalf.

“Me and my pack.” Spoke a booming voice which was no doubt amplified greatly by the voxmitter which it had come from.

The group turned to look at the beginning of the walkway which led to the landing pad which they stood on. In front of them stood a Dreadnought surrounded by eight Space Wolves in full armour. Aegidius quickly noticed that it was not just any Dreadnought, he did not even have to be a psyker to feel the absolutely ancient presence that the Dreadnought had commanded. But it took Aegidius only a few seconds to realize who the man interred inside of the ancient machine was.

Emperor: “So there’s me in his mind, a retinue of twelve Custodes and now a wolf pack with a Dreadnought to come with him on what can be assumed is a routine long range patrol mission.”  
Roboute: “Usually I’d ask if this is really necessary, but it’s my son going off to the outer borders and knowing how bad it is out there, I can only say… Is there anyone else they could send with him?”  
Emperor: “Glad you can see the humor in this, Roboute!”  
Roboute: “What humor?”

“Lord Bjorn.” Spoke Aegidius, his voice fragile and careful. If Lord Admiral Spire was ancient for a human and a legend amongst the Imperial Navy, Bjorn was ancient compared to _the Imperium itself_. He was old enough to remember not only fighting with his Primarch, but fighting by the Emperor's own side. No Space Marine had ever lived as long as he had, not even many Primarchs. Even few Eldar could come close to his age...

The heavy Dreadnought chassis slowly bowed, ancient servos whirring in protest as Bjorn bowed his “head” toward Aegidius.

“My Prince.” He rumbled even as he straightened again. That was strange, noted Aegidius, the Ultramarines were the only ones not deigned or required to call him their prince. Only the people and standard humans like Lord Admiral Spire were required to call him that. And only the Custodes knew about the Emperor using him as a host, that is unless…

Aegidius’ eyes flew directly to the vision port of the Dreadnought. Of course he could not see Bjorn’s eyes but that did not mean he did not feel something in his very bones, something irked and scratched at him that Bjorn knew far more than he had thought.

Leman: “That pup would be the one to know, he is old enough to remember everything from the Great Crusade, so maybe…?”  
Emperor: “I am quite unforgettable, you know.”  
Malcador: “Mmm…”

**…  
** **209.M42 - Snow moon of Bastonye, Spaceport Alpha  
** **...**

Leman Russ watched patiently as his people disembarked from the heavy transports belonging to the Administratum, or at least what was left of it. The evacuation of Fenris had been a hard choice but a necessary one. One that he had argued with his brothers about over the course of _years_.

“Fenris is undefendable.” Had argued Roboute.

“The Fang is one of the most fortified structures in the entire Imperium, but it will not be easy to hold as Fenris is far too isolated.” Had added in Dorn. Snows of Fenris be damned, even Dorn was speaking sense! All of his brothers had chimed in one way or another that Fenris needed to be… evacuated. He couldn’t say what he had truly done to his homeworld however.

He argued in favor of staying, he tried his hardest to get his brothers to understand his plight. After everything that had been taken from them all during this age of darkness, Leman had wanted to keep one part to call his own. But the sense that had been instilled inside of him, the sense his brothers had spoken had broken through and caused Leman to do the one action he would never forgive himself for, but knew it was the right choice.

He had _abandoned_ Fenris.

To others, Fenris was a barren, snowy, rocky wasteland in which almost nothing grew and everything wanted to kill you, but to Russ… it was home.

Leman: “I still stand that it would take a lot to get me to abandon Fenris-”  
Rogal: “But you would be seen as a stubborn fool if you do not.”  
Leman: “Ye… That. I don’t like that future reality me is abandoning Fenris, but I do see why. I don’t like it, but I see why.”  
Rogal: “You have said you do not like it twice already.”  
Leman: “Keep talking and my throne will be your new face, Rogal.”  
Rogal: “But I cannot have a new face-”  
Perturabo: “Shut up. Before I smack you again.”  
Rogal: “...I will do so.”

In the end he still gave in and gave the evacuation order, and he would sooner slit his own throat then let any true Fenrisian be claimed by those damned traitors. The people of Fenris were all he had, they were the only ones who could fill his ranks and support his legion. The people were more important to the Space Wolves than any other resource.

And so, with Roboute’s help, he requisitioned any transports he could get his claws on and told his gene-sons to gather all the civilians in the massive halls of the Fang as he would come for them with the transports and the still considerably sized Space Wolf fleet.

When he had entered the main entry hall of the Fang upon the faithful day, weeks ago now, a sight greeted him which he would never forget for as long as he lived. The Fang was massive, large enough to easily hold hundreds of thousands of regular humans and the entirety of the Space Wolves when they had counted legion strength. Now it played host to millions of civilians, some of which had never even seen something as simple as adamantium or electricity.

In his hearts, Russ had worried that his people would not cooperate or even fight. But it seemed that being in the presence and the halls of the beings they considered their very gods had calmed them down just enough that the Wolves and Serfs were able to slowly start hoarding them toward the transports. He saw all kinds of men and women that day. Some old with great grey beards looking around as if they had just gone to the afterlife with the Valkyries. Some women carrying their children, either in their arms, wombs or even both. And then there were the children who walked by themselves. It was not uncommon to lose a parent to the extremely dangerous environment of Fenris, it explained the many many orphans which walked toward the transports as simply as if they were going to collect wood for a fire. It was a miracle at just how much Fenris was able to harden its people.

Of course Russ took this opportunity to do something else.

Leman: “I would but-”  
Roboute: “It’s an efficient way to find candidates.”  
Rogal: “And it is optimal for finding new serfs if needed.”  
Sanguinius: “Are we going to gloss over the fact that these **people are losing their home** ?”  
Vulkan: “Do you think you could have waited after the evacuation?”  
Leman: “I could, but- What if we lose track of them!?”  
Sanguinius: “Then you find them again!”  
Konrad: “Ugh, move on! People lose their homes every day.”  
Leman: “Shut up you damned bat!”

“How many so far did yer get that ye think might be compatible?” Leman asked the Wolf Priest that stood next to him in the snow on Bastonye.

“About fifty thousand so far Lord Russ.” Replied the Wolf Priest even as Russ nodded.

“Good, we will need recruits, damn my brothers codex for all those limits.”

“Are you planning to go against Lord Guillimans plans, my Primarch?” Asked Bjorn who stood on his right.

“Aye, and I care about it as much as I care about the snow we're treading on at the moment.” Responded Russ in a gruff voice even as he continued to watch the refugees disembark under the watchful eyes of his gene-sons. “We need wolves Bjorn. Wolves.” Russ barked. “I don’t care how many regiments my brother raises, humans won’t be enough to turn the tide.”

“It’s far less harsh here than on Fenris, Lord Russ.” Said Ragnar Blackmane as he approached his Primarch. “Perhaps it shall incentivize the people of Fenris to grow faster?”

“Aye.” Responded Russ. “Like a light summer breeze it is compared to home, but it’s the best we have. The people will make do as we build.” He sniffed, the air not even considered cold by the old Fenrisian standards.

“We already are above strength Lord Russ.” Ragnar informed the Primarch. “This movement has been kind to our numbers, but they will wane, however… I see no way of hiding the build up from the Lord Command-”

“I will handle my brother and his idiotic decisions. I swear, by Fenris, if he doesn’t see reason, I am going to rip his ‘ead off myself.”

Ragnar Blackmane simply nodded even as a messenger came by with a scroll

Leman quickly took the scroll from the serf that had delivered it, and as the messenger scurried away he broke the seal and read quickly. After he finished he rolled the scroll back up and looked back toward the groups of refugees. “I am needed back on Macragge. The Prince is leaving on a training mission and my brothers need me to be stationed in the capital in case something goes wrong. When Hrist gets here with the last of the transports you all know what to do.”

“Understood Lord Russ.” Said the Wolf Priest even as all the others bowed before him and left him in peace. That is, all but Bjorn.

“Old friend.” Said Russ as he turned toward the war machine. “Why do you stay?”

“I may be old.” Spoke Bjorn. “But I can read perfectly fine when I am as tall as you.” A smile graced Russ’ lips as Bjorn spoke. Bjorn had been a rare treat in the pile of grox manure that he had to shovel when he had returned, he should have known that age and a sarcophagus would never be enough to deter Bjorn’s sight.

“Well it is good you stayed I suppose.” Further spoke Russ. “I want your help in picking someone to accompany my nephew on this patrol, getting a read on the state at the north-western borders is a fine idea.”

Bjorn made no sound but Russ had felt that he had agreed with his plan. “So, who would you suggest, old friend?” Asked Russ as he now turned to look at Bjorn. For a moment there was silence, then Bjorn answered.

“Me.”

Russ’ eyes went wide with surprise.

“You?”

“Aye, me Lord Russ.”

Russ now crossed his arms over his chest. “And why is that?” asked Russ yet again even as Bjorn’s Dreadnought form shifted to face the sky.

“There is something special about that lad.” Spoke Bjorn. “From what I have heard of him, I suspect something. It’s been bitching at my mind ever since I saw a holopict of the Prince for the first time, but I must see it for myself in order to see if it's true. ”

Leman waited for a few seconds, a conflicted look on his face. “My friend, If you hunger for battle I can assure you that you will not lack any-”

“I will.”

“Pardon?” Said Russ in surprise.

“I will lack the blood needed to sate me in the battle you planned on putting me in. And I have to sleep soon, it is beginning to take a toll on me.”

Russ sighed as he looked down at the snow covered ground. Bjorn was right, soon he would have to sleep, the fact that he had lasted so many years awake was a miracle in it of itself.

“Fine, go Bjorn, just don’t get yer damn head chopped off.” Russ couldn’t see it but he had bet that there was a smile under all that armour at that moment.

Leman: “Fight well, pup! You better not die anytime soon!”  
Roboute: “Why Leman, I’m sure he can’t hear you from over here-”  
Leman: “Hush! I’m just cheering on my crazy son! I’m not lecturing the vid.”  
Roboute: “Right, of course. No differences here.”

“Now, where's my bloody equerry?!” Russ shouted at the top of his lungs. “Did the lad run off somewhere again? If I find bloodlice in my armour again I am giving them straight back!” Further spoke Russ even as one of the Space Wolves who was looking at the disembarking Fenrisians broke off and came to stand before his Primarch with a bow of his head before speaking.

Leman: “What kind of equerry would I have if I get bloodlice from them!?”

“My Primarch, the Trickster was last seen heading into the woods. Shall I retrieve him for you?”

Leman: “Oh. Yeah, that makes sense.”  
Magnus: “Oh no.”  
Lorgar: “We have to sit through this again.”  
Malcador: “Sit through what?”  
Leman: *Wolfish grin* “You’ll see…”

Leman sniffed then thought for a moment before answering. “Aye go get the lad.” The Space Wolf walked off even as Russ thought about how Lukas the Trickster managed to become his Equerry.

**…  
** **Years earlier, the Fang, Fenris  
** **...**

Russ sat at his desk in his Solar going over various reports and the status of his chapter in general. The wolves had luckily been in better shape than he thought they would be at the time of his return. All was not well however, there was that whole business with Hrist that he had to juggle along with trying to find any remnants of the Imperium and making sure to get as many initiates as possible. It had been a month since their “accident” in the training hall and he had no bloody idea what their relationship had turned into, but she **had** stopped trying to kill him so there was at least that.

Leman: *Blushes* “Crazy Valkyrie…”  
Malcador: “Calm down, she’s great for you.”  
Horus: “Yeah, you two are great together, two crazy Fenrisians in love.”  
Leman: “I don’t like doing things on here anymore.”  
Horus: “Get over it. At least you aren’t being treated as the ass end of a joke.”  
Lorgar: “I am sure they treated you with a certain ass end brother.”  
Roboute: *Dickish laughter*  
Horus: *Sighs, smiling all the while* “I hate all of you.”

But one thing that he had yet to do was pick an Equerry. He needed one in order to get past all this damn paperwork and to help him be his second in command. It needed to be an individual that would never shy away at giving orders as if he was Russ himself, it also needed to be one which could be groomed by Leman in order to become a better commander and one that would always actually stand by his side. And preferably one that didn’t look at him as if he was a bloody fuckin’ god! He was long since over the hero worship, he needed an Equerry which would tell him to his face when he was making a mistake, not look at him with dreamy eyes as if he was the prettiest lass they had ever seen!

That is when one name caught his attention on one of the lists. What was most surprising was that this name was on the list of the Blood Claws… and that under the time spent as a Blood Claw _was over 500 years…_

Magnus: “Uuuuuuugggghhhhh…”  
Malcador: “What!?”  
Lorgar: “NNNNnnnnnngghhh…”  
Malcador: *Confused noises*

Who in their damned mind managed to spend 500 years as a Blood Claw and even still be alive or not promoted!? The Blood Claw, Lukas he was called, was old enough to even be a Wolf Lord! What was he doing within the Blood Claw packs?

“Guards!” Bellowed Russ, and the door to his Solar opened as in walked one of the Space Wolves serving as his guard.

“Get me someone that knows and can tell me more about the Blood Claw Lukas.” Spoke Russ even as the Space Wolf visibly recoiled before bowing his head. “Yes my Lord.” The Space Wolf quickly walked out, closing the door to Russ’ Solar behind him.

After some time there was a knock on the door and Russ quickly spoke. “Yes yes, come in!” The door swung open and in walked a Wolf Priest who walked in front of Russ’ desk and quickly bowed his head.

“My Primarch.” Muttered the Wolf Priest before he looked up and directly at Leman.

“What's yer name?” Kindly asked Russ.

“Wolf Priest Hrek Galrerunner my Lord.” Answered the Wolf Priest even as Russ continued to speak.

“Tell my Galrerunner. What can yer’ tell me of the Blood Claw Lukas?”

The Wolf Priest's eyes flew open at the mention of the Blood Claw as he spoke. “I uh… he is the oldest amongst the Blood Claws my Lord. He has his own way of doing things, ways that do not follow our traditions. These ways of his involve countless tricks and make him the outcast that he is. It has even earned himself the moniker of the Trickster. We know not why he acts in such a way my Lord, but Lukas follows his own Wyrd.”

Magnus: “Can I step out?”  
Lorgar: “Please, me too.”  
Leman: “No, no. Stay. Stay for Malcador.”  
Magnus: “I hate you.”  
Malcador: “This better be good if it has you two like this…”  
Leman: “Oh trust me- _it is_.”

Leman grumbled for a bit before speaking up again.

“I don’t want excuses for his damned Wyrd. I wanna know if he is any good.”

The Wolf Priest blinked. “Good my Lord?”

“Aye, good! How good is he at fighting and commanding? The reports on him are either lacking or missing completely. I wanna know how he fights and responds to commands.”

The Wolf Priest sighed before thinking for a second and responding. “I know that he is good at fighting my Primarch. Good enough to defeat multiple traitors at once. But he relies on his tricks in order to do true harm against them.”

Russ raised an eyebrow. “And those tricks be?”

“Depending on the situation my Primarch… at one point he managed to convince a planet of orks into a civil war amongst each other.”

Malcador: “Wut!?.”  
Emperor: “Yes, this happened in the future.”  
Malcador: “But- orkz.”  
Emperor: “I swear Mal, this actually happened.”  
Leman: “This guy is great!”  
Malcador: “Then why are Magnus and Lorgar like this-?”  
Leman: “Just watch, Sigillite!”

Russ slightly gaped at that, but the Wolf Priest was not done speaking.

“He also managed to trick a warband of Word Bearers to land on the thin ice of the Sea of Lost Souls, causing all of them to die from either the Krakens or drowning.”

Malcador: “Ah… I see. Lorgar.”  
Lorgar: “Yes, Lord Sigillite?”  
Malcador: “...don’t let your sons become that stupid.”  
Lorgar: “Y-yes Lord Sigillite…”  
Leman: *Rising laughter*

Leman barked a laugh, he was beginning to like this Blood Claw.

“He even managed to rescue a pack of Space Wolves stuck in the ruins of Prospero all the while tricking the traitor Primarch, Magnus the Red, into letting him go.”

Malcador: “Magnus...”  
Magnus: “Not my shining moment, Lord Sigillite, but in my honest defence… my soul is shattered in this future.”  
Malcador: “Even still, a regular marine that was capable of outwitting Magnus?”  
Leman: *More laughter*  
Malcador: *Sighing* “...wow.”

Leman’s jaw promptly hit the floor. “He did _what!_?” Bellowed Russ in complete and utter surprise.

“It is true my Lord… I have seen the records before they were purged.”

Russ took a deep breath before getting up and walking out of his Solar. “Come with me.” He said to the Wolf Priest as the two began walking down the halls of the Fang.

“Where are we going, my Lord?” Asked the Wolf Priest.

“To the halls that the Blackmanes call home. You will lead me to this Blood Claw, I want to meet him in person.”

After walking for sometime, they finally arrived at the entrance to the home of the pack of Blood Claws belonging to the Blackmanes. As they entered the tunnel, Russ noticed a rune carved into the walls.

“Hloja?” Asked Russ in confusion. _Laugh? What did this have to do with laughter?_

By his side the Wolf Priest sighed. “The Trickster is always doing his pranks, my Primarch.” Leman grunted, undeterred as they continued walking. “I would be careful however, the Strifeson might have booby-trapped this part of-” 

No sooner had the words come out of the Wolf Priests mouth had they heard the tell tale _snap_ of a trap being sprung. Russ quickly stepped back, but it was too late. A black ball was flung at the two and they had no choice but to run out of the hall leading to the Blood Claws home. Behind them they could hear the laughter as they ran. Soon they felt the contents of the ball begin to unfurl and bite them on any exposed skin. _Bloodlice_. Thought Russ, as he began scratching at his skin and swiping away any Bloodlice not yet touching his skin. The Wolf Priest was lucky, he was wearing his full battle plate. Russ however was only wearing his robes…

Leman: “...this means war pup.”  
Corvus: “In the Grimdarkness of the far future, there is only war in the legions.”

*Silence*

Corvus: “Oh come on! I can make jokes too!”  
Konrad: “And this is why you stay silent, Little Raven.”  
Corvus: “At least I’m trying, unlike you Mr. I-Must-Act-Like-An-Asshole-At-All-Times.”  
Konrad: “Asshole humour is still humour.”

**…  
** **A couple of hours later  
** **...**

Everything **_itched_ **.

Every single part of his body felt as if it was going to fall off from just how much it **_itched_ **...

The Wolf Priest had tried to warn him about this, apparently it was one of Lukas’ favourites. And even with his advanced Primarch physiology, it was taking a while for the remains of the Bloodlice’s bites to go away.

The Wolf Priest had also told him to refrain from scratching his skin as the itch would go away quicker that way, but he was finding that _extremely_ hard to do.

Even as he cursed both Lukas and his own luck however, he internally smiled. Long ago in his youth he remembered not being so different. Indeed, while externally he was feeling as if his skin would fall off, his mind was reminding him of older, simpler times. Times when the galaxy seemed so small.

It also reminded him of one thing, retaliation. And he had just the lass for the job…

Leman: “I wouldn’t do that, would I?”

**…  
** **One hour later, home of the Blackmanes Blood Claws pack  
** **...**

Lukas lied on one of the benches in the chamber of Blood Claws. He was still grinning at the memory of someone running into his trap of Bloodlice. A classic he couldn’t believe people were still falling for after so long. Some of the Blood Claws however were worried about just who it was that Lukas had managed to prank this time around. Lukas, being half drunk and well… Lukas, didn’t care much. It earned a good laugh and that was all that mattered to the old Blood Claw.

Soon enough however the Blood Claws all perked up as they heard the telltale stomping of heavy armoured feet.

The massive door to the chamber swung open violently enough to throw the doors from their hinges, causing one of the massive said doors to land on a Machine-thrall, destroying it completely.

“Which one of yer’ damned bastards is Lukas!?” Howled an armoured Valkyrie from the door.

Leman: “Apparently I would.”  
Horus: “Yes Leman, sic your wife on your enemies. Let her fight your battles.”  
Leman: “That is not what i’m doing I am making use of a resource-”  
Horus: “Who also happens to share your bed?”  
Leman: “Yer’ would know all about that, wouldn’t you? All those ladies of yours have to come in handy at some point!”  
Horus: “Hush you.”  
Konrad: “Wait, what- OH! Lovely.”  
Corvus: “What?”  
Ferrus: “You don’t want to know.”  
Fulgrim: “It’s not worth it.”

“Aye, that will be me lass!” Said Lukas even as he drunkenly got to his feet and looked at the small woman. She recently became famed amongst the Space Wolves for being able to take on some of their best and even win a few fights. What did she want from some Blood Claws?

“Yer? Yer lukas?! I'll smash yer mouth for sending me that letter!”

 _Letter_? Thought Lukas, he had never sent any letter.

“Yer mistaken lass, I never sent any-” Lukas stopped talking as he had to dodge the massive halberd which came his way and smashed clean through the bench that he was lying on just a moment ago.

“You are going to pay for that!” Roared the Valkyrie as she skillfully twisted the Halberd. Lukas, being unarmoured for his annual bath, could only block the next strike with his forearms, moving so that the handle of the weapon would hit them. As soon as the halberd impacted, he felt the bone crack and released a loud yelp of pain.

“I’m not the one yer lookin for lass-” He tried to speak even as she kept pummeling him with multiple painful hits. “Stop it yer mad woman!” He spoke again, but the Valkyrie took that moment to get close and kick the side of his head with her armoured sabaton hard enough that Lukas felt his teeth smash even as the world went black.

He awoke sometime later, feeling as if his head was going to explode from the pain.

Leman: “...I love that woman.”  
Malcador: “Told you.”

“Yer finally awake.” Spoke an unknown voice. It did however cause a tingling sensation to travel up Lukas’ spine. His genes reacting to it by instinct. Slowly he turned to his side and noticed the big hulking form of a Space Wolf in power armour. Though he didn’t recognise this particular one, judging by the amount of artifice that adorned his power armour and the Wolves sheer size, he should have.

Then it clicked, making him wince internally.

“Primarch Leman Russ. My Lord.” Slowly spoke Lukas, using an actual moniker for the first time since he could actually remember. Even he would have to show respect to his own Primarch.

“Aye, and yer be Lukas, Lukas the Trickster correct?” Lukas slowly forced himself to nod, the massive headache temporarily pushed away due to the sheer amount of anxiety and unknown emotions he felt at the moment.

“Right, just the one I was looking for. Tell me lad, how would yer feel about being my Equerry?”

Lukas’ mind went blank. _An Equerry? To the Primarch!?_ His mind couldn’t comprehend the meaning of it at that moment.

“Eh… eh… your Equerry my Primarch!? What I have done to earn such…” _A pain in my ass title._ Thought Lukas. “A title… I'm barely a Blood Claw!”

Russ slowly wagged his head sideways as he spoke. “No yer not. From this moment on you are a Wolf Guard.”

“What!?” Lukas howled in disbelief for the first time since becoming a Space Wolf. He quickly grabbed his head and quieted down however as the splitting headache came back twice as bad.

“I have been talking to the Wolf Priests and other older wolves. It’s high past time you took up another wyrd. People respect you just enough not to kill yer, but also know when yer serious. Yer also got the skill for fighting.”

Lukas groaned in annoyance. Everything he did was coming back to bite him on his ass.

“That’s why I’m asking yer if yer gonna become my Equerry? It’s either that or another round with the Valkyrie.”

Lukas’ eyes flew open as he realized just who it was behind that. “I… accept my Primarch.” He spoke reluctantly, not happy about the responsibility but knowing it better then taking on that damned crazy Valkyrie again.

“Good.” Said Russ even as he slapped one of Lukas’ shoulders.

“There is a war meeting going on in the main war room. Join it when it stops itching.” Russ explained, before he walked out of the Apothecary ward that they were in.

 _Itching_? Thought Lukas wearily before he felt his shoulder indeed begin to itch, followed by his neck, followed then by his chest. He then began to smell the telltale acrid odor of Bloodlice.

As the itching grew in intensity, so too did Lukas’ smile. He knew that he finally found someone who could bite back just as fiercely as he did, and at least as the Primarchs Equerry, he would never be bored again.

Leman: “Hehehe, don’t mess with the master pup!”  
Horus: “I-”  
Leman: “Hush.”

**…  
** **209.M42 - Snow moon of Bastonye, Spaceport Alpha  
** **...**

Leman had just finished discussing the plan with Bjorn when the Grey Hunter who went to retrieve Lukas returned with the Trickster slowly walking behind him. “Fukin’ finally Lukas.” Said Leman even as he turned toward the Strifeson. “I told yer to stick close.”

The Jackawolf smiled before speaking. “Sorry my Primarch. Got interested in the local wildlife.”

Leman let out a sigh. “Doesn't matter I suppose. Find Bjorn here a transport and eight willing Wolves to form a pack and escort him on a mission. And **no** yer can’t go, I need you with me on Macragge.” Finished Leman even as Lukas gave a slight bow and walked off wordlessly before beginning to sing some bawdy song loudly.

Leman: “He won’t follow that order.”  
Fulgrim: “Nah, you think?”  
Magnus: “I don’t need future sight to see that coming.”  
Sanguinius, Lorgar and Konrad: “ **Hear, hear!** ”

“I don’t know how I tolerate the lad.” Slowly spoke Leman as he turned back toward Bjorn.

“Maybe because he reminds you of a younger you, my Primarch?” He said in a teasing tone even as Leman scowled.

“Perhaps.” He spoke quietly before looking Bjorn directly in his vision port. “Best of luck to you my friend.” He said again before walking off even as off in the distance Lukas was slowly returning with seven other Space Wolves.

Leman: “Told ya.”  
Magnus: “Well, everything seems to be shaping up rather nicely. We have a lot of well renowned warriors going with Aegidius, things should be going well.”  
Roboute: “Why the ‘should’?”  
Magnus: “When was the last time something ever went according to plan?”  
Roboute: “...Oh no.”

**…  
** **On the** **_Conqueror  
_ ** **...**

“...I swear, being on this ship is like dealing with a bunch of rabid children who happen to be wielding chainaxes.” Ragio griped, finding a quiet place on the _Conquerer_ to read.

He still couldn’t believe that so many of these Space Marines were willing to try and get the Butcher’s Nails planted into their heads to somehow identify with their Primarch. He had to hold his tongue more often than not about how stupid of an idea it was and how the Nails were beyond destructive to their psyche. Thus, he kept his mouth shut, since he knew that them wearing armour and being armed spelled doom for him who had no armour of his own and the only thing he had to fight back with was a very aggressive book who bit everyone and was currently lovingly gnawing on his arm.

At some point he stopped caring about the book becoming apparently attached to him, acting like some impromptu guard canid and taking him for it’s master.

Another negative part about being stuck on board the _Conqueror_ was that the only place where he got far away enough from the Marines and Legion Serfs was either in his Father’s quarters or in some secluded Apothecarium where he could advance his studies.

And in the weeks it was taking them to get to their destination they were stopping by on certain planets every now and then for apparent Legion and Imperial business.

It was difficult to relate to the Space Marines, as they had little interest in him and more interest in fighting, fighting each other, fighting the servitors, fighting to get the Nails and occasionally drinking. All activities that he could not relate to in the slightest. They embodied the ancient gladiator culture of Desh’ea perfectly, truly, his Father really was a hypocrite and a barefaced liar if he really did keep shouting out the fact that he hated the dust bowl that was his homeworld and yet incorporated the most hated part of it directly into the culture of his Legion.

Perhaps the worst part was that he had no one to even talk to about any of it.

He tried to find Khârn in the first few days, hoping to talk to him to figure things out but as it turned out, the only things Khârn did these days was either fight, sleep or sneak off somewhere for a few hours. 

After that, he tried to talk to some of the Serfs, which as it turned out were even more tight lipped then the Marines, acting more like slaves than individuals, despite claiming otherwise when he pried hard enough.

In short, he felt like he was home.

It was just like living in the mountains back on Nuceria. The only difference was that there he could easily keep himself busy and someone always needed either healing, advice or just an old fashioned extra pair of hands.

Here, he was treated like a lonely prince. The medical servitor brought him anything he needed. The positively tiny library aboard the _Conqueror,_ while containing plenty of reading material, quickly also grew boring. 

He adamantly refused to join in the sparring sessions that went on at all hours, he was above that. He wasn’t going to be some mindless War Hound unleashed on the others, he wasn’t going to act like how his _Father_ had acted with them all. So that left little else that could occupy his time.

On his way to find another secluded spot away from the Marines who wouldn’t talk to him in the first place, he was found by a serf who passed along a message. The Captain wanted to speak with him.

“Wait, the ship has a Captain?” He mused to himself, wondering what kind of person the Captain of the _Conqueror_ had to be to deal with a Legion of psychopaths.

He followed said Serf, walking down a few corridors and up a few massive lifts until finally, they arrived on the bridge.

It was massive, as any Gloriana’s bridge was, and crewed with hundreds of personnel. Everything from Servitors to Tech-Priests, to Marines attended to their tasks diligently. 

But there, next to the command throne, stood a woman of small stature, facing him, a bloody hand honour emblem adorn on the front of her uniform.

As the Serf guided Ragio to her, he took ample opportunity to examine her.

She looked surprisingly young for a woman of her station. A rare occurrence from what he knew of Imperial commanders. But her eyes spoke the words that her body did not. This was no fool, nor no glory hound that was handed her rank on a silver platter.

“Flag-Captain.” The Serf bowed. “Lord Ragio, as you requested.”

“Captain. It is good to meet someone such as you.” He gave the Captain a warm smile, looking so much like his mother at the moment. “For what reason have you called upon me?”

She looked back at him, her stern face not moving so much as an inch even as she turned back around to look at the shutter enclosed viewport.

“Shortly, we shall be reentering realspace above our destination, as you are a Lord of this Legion and I am the Captain of this ship, it is my duty to ensure that you are supplied with an adequate guard of the Legion to escort you from the _Conqueror_ and down to the planet.”

He was about to disagree with her about needing a guard, then the memory of those people surrounding him on Terra resurfaced. Their questions and the lights and sounds- it had been too much for him. He still had trouble getting used to living on the ship itself, much less being a Lord and also a “celebrity”. 

“If that is needed, then I shall accept it. What do you recommend? I am still incomplete on my studies on Imperial culture and protocols.”

She looked back at him, over her shoulder.

“You are best asking someone else… my Lord.”

“I would, however I have found most refuse to talk to me or even answer my questions.” He did mentally add on that he didn’t make it easier for them on his side, but kept it to himself.

“Then you are best at seaking your answers from Lord Angron.”

He barely controlled the growl that escaped him at the mention of his _Father_. “He is not here. Last I heard he’s indisposed at the moment.”

Lotara simply turned her head back towards the shuttered viewports as the activity around them continued unabated. 

Letting out a frustrated sigh, he turned and began to walk away from the Captain. “I swear, no one on this ship has any common decency.”

An hour later, the _Conqueror_ exited warp space above Salutis, and as its crew began the long winded process of revitalizing and resupplying the ship, all the while deploying some of its occupants, its Captain traveled to the main Hangar deck, overlooking the Stormbird which Ragio along with a select few World Eaters were boarding.

She heard and felt the heavy steps behind her, as the unmistakable presence of a Space Marine came to a halt to her right.

“He is his. The only thing missing are the nails.” He grumbled.

“I’d wager they couldn’t be very similar. He’s polite and tried to talk to me. When has our Lord actually attempted such?” She answered the familiar Marine. “They do share the same anger. Even I could feel it threatening to boil over.”

“That’s my point.” He growled. “He was raised differently. Our Primarch only respects strength, power and victory, damn everything else. Though it is not as if you need anything else.” 

Lotara chuckled, “he actually asked about Imperial culture and protocols with me.”

She heard the rumbling from the Marine’s helmet, a rare chuckle. “Idiotic child.”

“He’s older than me, yet I probably outrank him through life experience alone.” She rolled her eyes at this, “He’s almost the same as a stray from a feudal world that we were forced to pick up. What have you learned about him?”

“He won’t leave the Apothecaries alone. He’s naive, wants to… help people.”

“Isn’t it our duty to help people? To bring them into the Imperium whether they like it or not?”

The Marine scuffed. “Tell that to my chainaxe.” He grumbled again, his hand reaching for and almost lovingly caressing the weapon, the nails biting. 

A small hand lied on his own, her gaze heavy with worry though her face betrayed nothing. 

As they watched the Stormbird take flight, she felt as his heavy armoured hand pulled away, lingering just for a second longer than strictly necessary if someone were to see the two.

It had been getting worse with the nails. At one point, at least he had the capacity to care more. Though now, he was losing more and more of it each day.

She hoped that whatever the Emperor was doing on the world below, it was going to save the Legion from the abyss that they were staring at. 

**…  
** **Down below, on Salutis in the Viewing Room  
** **...**

The realization of what was to come caused Roboute to stand from his throne, take a few deep breaths and immediately walk out of the viewing room in a sharp marching pace. He didn’t stop when his brothers asked him why, only grunting in response as he left.

A few brothers glanced at each other, the pure stillness emanating from Roboute made them uneasy, the only ones who had an inkling of what was to come was the Emperor, Malcador and Magnus from a passing look into Roboute’s head. With a heavy sigh, The Emperor turned in his seat, calling out to Roboute before the door closed.

“Third door on your right, Roboute!”

A loud sound of muffled agreement came from the corridor, then the door closed.

Moments of silence passed. Such silence that you could hear a pin drop. Some wondered what could possibly happen now, what could Roboute do alone in a room with that type of mindset-

They heard the first crash, then the second and soon a third. Then they heard the sounds of falling masonry. Then Vulkan, Sanguinius, Mortarion and Horus had to stop Perturabo and Rogal from getting up and attempting to stop Roboute. Violently.

 _Then_ they were pretty sure they could hear a cry of pure rage emanate from the room even as the entire palace began to shake.

 **_Then_ **they had to bolt Perturabo’s and Rogal’s thrones to the ground and heavily secure the two aforementioned Primarchs to them.

Then Leman finally had enough, got up, and walked away, heading straight for the room in which Roboute was currently releasing his “feelings” on the situation. But as soon as the Emperor’s Executioner entered the room, the doors shutting closed behind him, the Wolf King of Fenris came out flying not ten seconds later, sporting a massive growing black eye.

“So.” Began Sanguinius, leaning over from his throne, looking down at Leman from over his shoulder. “Is he busy in there?” He finished even as Leman got up and turned to look at his brother, cracking his jaw back into place.

“Busy? Aye, but you get your turn quick enough.”

A couple of minutes later, the screaming finally faded and the doors to the room opened. Out walked Roboute, his Macraggian uniform completely spotless despite the room behind him being the very meaning of the word “destroyed". He carried with him a massive fluffy pillow.

No one said anything as Roboute sat back down on his throne and some of the brothers quietly released the now calmed down Perturabo and Rogal. Then everyone slowly looked at the Lord of Ultramar as he clutched the pillow in his lap even tighter.

He looked back at them and spoke.

“It is my screaming pillow. I know that this vid is going to require more trips to my de-stressing form, so to help not waste more time and rooms...” He patted the pillow a few times. “My adoptive mother on Macragge taught me this one.”

The Emperor quirked an eyebrow, staring at Roboute. “And where did you learn the room destruction from?”

He was met with an even stare from Roboute, who dared him to ask that one again. Horus off to the side chuckled, before nodding.

“Yeah, I can see that. You should have seen Father when he found out about-” Horus stopped speaking when the Emperor shot a look at his eldest. “I mean… Yeah. I think we all get our destructive side from you.”

“I’ll take that one.” The Emperor sighed, knowing that they were going to make light of it anyway. “Now that everything's alright, may I send for Serfs to clean up the mess so that we may get back to the viewing?”

Sounds of affirmation came from the Primarchs, and the vid was resumed.

**…  
** **209.M42 - The War Docks of the Fortress Hera  
** **…**

As Aegidius finished gazing into the Dreadnought’s viewport he slowly looked toward the wolves accompanying the ancient. Most appeared to be your standard Space Wolf Grey Hunters, though there was one that stood out. He had on a strange looking pelt, had lightning claws on one hand and a Plasma pistol was maglocked to his thigh. Like most of the pack, he had no helmet on, which showed off his long auburn hair that flowed past his shoulders. He had some signs of old age, a miracle in Astartes, meaning that he had served for a very long time indeed.

There was a cough from Aegidius’ side and he looked up to see Spire standing there and looking at the wolf pack.

“It is a great honour to meet you my lord.” Spire spoke in a humble tone even as he awkwardly inclined his head before looking back at the Space Wolves. “You are to join us on the patrol then? By the orders of Lord Russ?”

As Spire finished talking, Bjorn’s massive form turned to face the old Admiral.

“Yes. Me and my wolf pack have been chosen to accompany the young prince in order to advise him. As well as provide protection.” Bjorn’s voxmitters turned off with a notable click.

 _Advise? Protect?_ Thought Aegidius. _Why would my uncle think I require_ **_more_ ** _protection? And advise me on what exactly? Is this a political move?! I… uh should I accept?!_

Magnus: “I said this at the beginning, brother, but you taught your son so well. So eloquent with his words. Inspiring.”  
Roboute: “And like I have said the last time, leave him alone. It’s his first time, give him time and he’ll be just as skilled of an orator as the rest of us.”  
Konrad: *Slowly rising laughter* “Get ready to wait a long time then.”  
Sanguinius: *Covering his face with a hand, already feeling awkward and knowing it’s only going to get worse*

**Yes. Accept already, we are wasting time.**

_I loathe you._

**I don’t care.**

Malcador: “Do you really have to-”  
Emperor: “Malcador, please remember this is the me that suffered for 10 millennia on the Golden Throne, had his soul shattered multiple times, and has been a bitter fuck for most of his life. Give me a break?”  
Malcador: “Hmph. Fine. But I am watching you in this and if I see anything-”  
Emperor: “Yeah, yeah, I know. I’ll get the thing ready.”  
Horus: “Wait, what thing?”  
Emperor: “Can’t explain right now. I promise I will later.”  
Horus: *Grumbling*

Aegidius’ thoughts were cut off as Pupponius stepped forward. “On the behest of the Prince, we will gladly accept your escort.”

Aegidius wiped off some non-existent sweat, making a mental note to thank Pupponius for saving him at a later time.

Yet again there was a cough from the side and the group turned to face Lord Admiral Spire.

“If we are done then my Lords.” Spire gestured in the direction of the nearby Lander. “Shall we?”

**...  
** **Some time later, Somewhere in Imperium Secundus, Gloriana-class Battleship -** **_Macragge's Honour  
_ ** **...**

Malcador: “Oh great. Time for exposition.”  
Emperor: “Don’t call it that, we are learning-”  
Malcador: “Through exposition.”  
Emperor: “If you are going to be a killjoy, I don’t know if I want you here.”  
Malcador: “You kidnapped me from Terra and I have no way of getting back because you want me here. I’ll be as much of a killjoying old man as I want.”  
R oboute: “Can you two stop bickering?”  
Corvus: “This is making me want to do literally anything else at this moment, instead of watching a life changing vid about the future.”  
Jaghatai: “Enough. Let Father bicker like an old woman with the Sigillite.”  
Emperor: “I take offense to that.”

Roboute Guilliman sighed as he leaned over the hololithic projection in the middle of the War room. He then reached up with one of his armoured hands and gently rubbed his eyes.

The meeting he was currently stuck in had gone on for half of the ship's cycle. And even he was beginning to feel the effects of exhaustion.

To his sides stood Cato Sicarius, yet again acting as his Equerry and to his right stood Tetrarch Decimus Felix. All the while in front of him were various Astropathic choirs, all tapped into the raging currents of the warp, valiantly attempting to keep a live connection to Macragge in order for the War Council to continue.

“Leman. Are you on your way back to Macragge then?” Asked Guilliman even as he looked toward the Astropath responsible for that connection.

“Aye.” Came the voice of Leman through the Astropath. “I’m makin’ my way back there. Our new fortress on Bastonye is comin’ along nicely by the way, thanks for askin ya git.”

Roboute groaned slightly at his brother's antics. He hadn’t slept for two weeks at this point, and most likely wouldn’t for two more the way things were proceeding.

“Yes, thank you Leman, I am sure _Vargr Heim_ is coming along nicely. I apologize for not asking but there are more pressing things on my mind, like Sevastes VII being lost yet again to more Ork raids…

Magnus: “Did you-”  
Leman: “No, no!”  
Magnus: “You just-”  
Leman: “Don’t you **dare** tell them!”  
Magnus: “You just named your new Fortress Monastery, _Wolf Hom_ e!?”  
Leman: “Look I’m not the most creative out of all of ye, and well, I probably didn’t think anyone else would know and um-”  
Magnus: “All I can hear is just wolf, wolf, wolf, wolf, wolf, wolf, wolf-”

*Snickers from the entire family*

“Or like our dwindling supplies and dangerously low ammunition?” Rogal would intone.

The family had gone quiet, the atmosphere turning serious.

“Yer, yer I get it, but if yer gonna keep seeing only the terrible side of everythin’ then no wonder we're **losin**!”

Emperor: “...oh.”  
Roboute: “...I… I see.”  
Emperor: “I know we picked up on the signs from before, and all the meanings, but…”  
Rogal: “The knowledge of having our situation so plainly spelled out is enough to make us all think about how truly desolate the future is?”  
Perturabo: “Yes, Rogal. You know, you don’t have to speak up and throw the obvious in the face of everyone here! I’m socially inept and I know not to do that!”  
Rogal: “But perhaps speaking plainly can help shock those back into action. Everyone had gone quiet and nothing was being said until I decided to shock all of you to your senses.”  
Emperor: “You… have a point Rogal. But right now, just hearing from the last defenders of humanity plainly say that we’re losing is a bit too much, really.”  
Konrad: “Really? This is what finally shocks all of you into seeing the reality of things?”  
Roboute: “Well I mean it’s like this. We were constantly looking at our children growing up and going on KHM KHM ‘adventures’, not focusing on the state of the Imperium itself! Watching all of those vids previously set ten millennia in the future has practically conditioned us to expect nothing short of a shadow of the Imperium we know now but… well… this confirms just how bad things really are…”  
Ferrus: “Not to mention that we still had the idea that possibly everything couldn’t be so bleak in the future, that there was still the hope that we would be able to work it out and still survive in the future.”  
Fulgrim: “And having so plainly spoken that the Imperium is **losing** , with no ifs, ands or buts, just a statement of fact. That’s why we’re so shocked, Konrad. It was spoken of so plainly, that it can’t be a lie.”

“Oh yes, speaking of how everything is terrible- how about we go over again how we need to retake those agri-worlds? Because last I checked, food rationing has been making our armies weaker. How close is that revolt coming again? I do so look forward to the damn Eldar revolting against us because we aren’t feeding them lavish feasts every day.” Mortarion would ground out, his melancholic tone only emphasizing the words he spoke. “Unless all of you want to keep depending on Isha spending her time using her powers for food and keeping her people calm.”

Roboute let out another quiet groan. He had to face the facts at this point. Between all of the Ork raids, the Daemonic Invasions, and even some Necron interferences, they… were **losing**.

Emperor: “I am forty millennia old… and this just… just…”  
Malcador: “Saps all of the good humor out of a situation?”  
Emperor: “Yes… It’s a miracle the Imperium is still together at all really…”  
Konrad: “Yes yes, everything is bad! We get it! Can you please stop your moaning father?”

*The Emperor then looked toward the Night Haunter. And in his eyes, Konrad could see, he could see the very same look he had given so many people in the past. It was not one of pity, but one of utter hopelessness **.***

Emperor: “This Imperium is my dream Konrad. My _only_ dream of saving humanity…”  
Konrad: *Looking away, unable to face his father when he looked so hopeless*

“How are the outer edges to the galactic North-West doing at least? Tell me that there is at least some **good** news there?” Asked Roboute even as he turned toward Tetrarch Felix.

“The news is somewhat good my Primarch. The supply lines are largely un-disturbed, but any excursions beyond the border typically result in us running into either Ork or Human pirates.”

Emperor: “Of course there are. Humans do tend to turn on each other rather quickly when the balance of power is tipped.”  
Malcador: “It’s a different scale of the Unification Wars.”

The Tetrarch need not explain himself further. Everyone of the Primarchs knew what that meant. _Destroy the encountered fleet or risk exposing Imperium Secundus._

The Patrols outside of the border were a necessary risk however. Multiple augur probes and even some smaller stations were set up there in an attempt to find any Imperial survivors. It was that very way which granted Imperium Secundus it’s Custodes, multiple Imperial Navy and Astartes ships, and most recently even Lord Admiral Spire, who sailed in with a small battlefleet of his own, determined to save and gather any nearby forces rather then make the run for Imperium Secundus’ safe ports immediately.

“Good, good.” Intoned Guilliman as Felix finished speaking. Then something itched at his mind. The tiniest fraction of a worry.

_Aegidius is set to be there right about now…_

“Tetrarch?” Asked Guillliman, even as in the background Rogal and Mortarion began to lightly argue over the priority of ammunition or food.

“Yes my Primarch?” Responded Felix even as he stepped closer to his progenitor.

“Send for a live read out of the North-Western border. Of all the augur pods if you will.”

“Of course my Primarch.” Felix bowed his head, before walking off toward the direction of a Techmarine.

“What are yer so damn worried about? I even sent Bjorn and a pack of my wolves to escort yer son on that damn patrol.” Spoke Leman even as Guilliman glanced back toward his brother’s astropath.

Leman: “Ye’ are a bit more concerned about yer’ kid than the Imperium Secundus.”  
Roboute: “Well, he’s my flesh and blood. I can’t help it, apparently.”  
Emperor: “There isn’t anything wrong with worrying about family and duty. But there has to be a balance between the two. I’ve seen many great men drag themselves down because they worried about family over duty. And same with putting duty over family. Really tricky business.”  
Malcador: “Especially since there really isn’t a right answer.”

“I simply require peace of mind, brother. To lessen the load so to speak of.”

A dismissive noise came from Lemans astropath even as Guilliman continued speaking.

“But… why the pack, brother? I appreciate the extra protection to be sure… but-”

“Pah! Don’t try yer damn politics on me Roboute. I sent Bjorn and a pack for simply one thing. I need information, my people are to live here now, and I wanted to get a closer look at the lad.”

Guilliman frowned. _A closer look? Why, by the throne, would he do that? Does he know?_

Roboute: “So only, me, the Custodes and few others even know... Not even the rest of my brothers…”  
Magnus: “At least it's not in the public, then everyone wouldn't give Aegidius time alone.”  
Roboute: “That's true…”

“I do not-”

“My liege!” Came a cry from Tetrarch Felix even as Guilliman was about to speak.

“What is it, Tetrarch?” Spoke Roboute even as the Tetrarch ran back to his side and began to work the holoprojector on the table.

“My Lord… the augurs showed nothing merely an hour ago… but approximately twenty minutes ago…”

A Techmarine came by and inserted a chip into the hololithic projector.

Initially everything was clear aside from some golden aquilas, showing Imperial Navy and Astartes vessels in the augur arrays scans.

But then came a red icon.

In the shape of the eight pointed star of chaos.

“Traitors!” Barked Sicarius by Roboute’s side.

“Pah! They can handle one damn ship can’t they?” Said Leman.

Roboute: “See! My concerns were justified!”  
Horus: “As hard as it is for me to say this Roboute… it is just one ship.”  
Emperor: “Agreeing with Horus on this one.”  
Roboute: “When is there **ever** only one ship!?”  
Fulgrim: “Overzealous pirates thinking that they could run the blockade in that sector?”

“I am afraid it is much more than just that my Lords…” Intoned Felix as yet another red icon appeared.

Roboute: *Gestures slowly to the screen*  
Horus: “It’s not that-”

And then another.

Roboute: *Gestures more pointedly*  
Horus: “Okay, mayb-”

And then yet another.

Soon the icons were appearing at such a rate that almost the entire projection was covered in them.

Roboute: *Gestures wildly to the screen, barely held noises of pure frustration were coming from Roboute’s tightly wound face*  
Horus: “...okay fine you had a point.”

“By the throne…” Slowly spoke Sicarius by Roboute's side.

The Primarch, for his part, seemed to be taking this all rather calmly on the outside. Even as his mind was already raging with plans on how to combat this threat.

_And how to save his son…_

“Begin deploying any fleet assets we can. Who is nearby?”

Silence answered his demands.

“Who is near-”

“We are the nearest fleet my Lord.” Spoke Felix from his side.

“Then mobilize the fleet! Deploy the entire first garrison! We are dealing with a preliminary invasion here!”

“Well, I suppose we see which is more important at the moment.” Mortarion commented at that moment.

Soon the War Room became a flurry of activity even as Guilliman zoomed in on the small fleet of golden aquilas.

_Stay strong my son…_

He could only hope that would be so. But a small part of his hearts refused to believe it even as he beat it into his head as a vain hope. Knowing that this point was always to come at one time. And that now… their resolve and defences would truly be tested.

For at that border, that greatest and most ancient of horrors had come. That most feared of threats. The very thing which collapsed the Imperium into its decrepit self so many millennia ago in the orbit of Terra, where they set fire to the Throneworld and Horus killed the Emperor.

And now… they had come to finish the job.

The Black Legion had come for Imperium Secundus.

Horus: “By the Emperor’s Gold plated tits!”  
Emperor: “Hey-!”  
Horus: “I’m sorry, but this is just at a point where I don’t know what else to say but just watch in horror and spew out expletives until we see a resolution, if any!”  
Roboute: *Slowly bringing the pillow up to his face, takes a deep breath and starts to scream into it. Screaming for a full minute before he stopped, pulled it away, and sat back with a haunted look in his eyes*

**…  
** **204.M42 - The Dark Angels Fortress Monastery,** **_The Rock  
_ ** **...**

Sanguinius: “ **_Why are we changing to the Rock of all places!? Five years in the past!?_ ** ”  
Konrad: “It’s most likely going to connect in some way, so we might as well just sit back and watch the trainwreck.”  
Emperor: “Or it’s the writer's blue balling all of us as well.”  
Konrad: “What?”  
Emperor: “Nothing.”  
Malcador: “Put a lid on that or I’m bringing up your old days in the late 2nd millennium.”  
Emperor: “What could you possibly mean by-”  
Malcador: “I am referring to the seventies, also known as the time of your hippie-”  
Emperor: _“Alright Mal you made your point.”  
_ Malcador: “Good. Next time I will bring up the eighties. With the founding of a certain company that made overpriced miniature-”  
Emperor: “Shush! I don’t want to remember how empty my wallet got that day.”

The screen cut to security footage of _The Rock_ , deep in space. The inner sanctum crawling with modern day Dark Angels, Watchers in the Dark, the entirety of the former first legion, including most of their successor chapters. All of them congregated into one area of space, having lived through the Emperor’s Death in relative peace among the vast emptiness of deep space.

But there was one who was closing in on _The Rock_ , one who had been waiting for the right time to strike, the right time when there would be the most Dark Angels in one area. A time where he could make them pay for the sordid deeds of their past. An avenging angel, who was ready to strike at the ones who destroyed him and the one he saw as his _Gene-sire_.

Emperor: “...take notes everyone! This is what happens when you try to control your children and shape them into you.”  
Horus: “Are you sure _we_ should take notes, or should _you_ ?”  
Emperor: “I am making great progress and doing better. We just narrowly stopped Lion from doing this. So let’s see how badly it went and learn from this experience.”  
Lorgar: “Debateable.”

Millenia of waiting. Millennia of constant struggle. Millennia of constant improvement and fighting for survival. His anticipation for revenge, now finally in reach, only continued to grow as the stealth ships approached _the_ _Rock_.

It was time to finally infiltrate and take his revenge, to avenge the many who saw the truth. 

The Marine in question towered over his fellow Fallen, a name they quite resented. They never fell, not in their eyes. It was the ones who hunted them to this day that had fallen. Who had been blinded to the truth of the Emperor’s word.

One of his brothers came to him, telling him it was time. The chance to slip closer was upon them all, the chance to finally get their revenge upon them all. They didn’t need _him_ , they had him. They didn’t need the one who betrayed and hurt them all, they had the one who fought alongside them and was their brother in arms and soon to be their new gene-father.

They were finally going to kill the Lion, and Gabriel would have the pleasure of finally riding the galaxy of a useless man that deserved to be exterminated. Then he would be free to take his place and **_make_ ** them all pay, the Dark Angels would return to the light and they would make them face judgement for their transgressions against their true leader. _To avenge Luther._ His memories whispered, as he watched their target getting closer and closer.

 _For Luther._ He thought forcefully, once more, as he donned his helmet, ready to board the section of _the Rock_ no one even knew existed. It was time to hunt down and kill a monster, like the animal he was.

 _For the Emperor._ He thought even as the tiny ship docked.

Emperor: “Wait what?”  
Horus: “What-”  
Leman: “-the fook-”  
Magnus: “-is even-”  
Fulgrim: “-going on-”  
Jaghatai: “-anymore?”

It was like stepping through a portal to the past. Everything was exactly as he remembered, the shape of the docking chamber, the smell of the ship, the same architecture of days long since passed. With them standing here, it was like he was only twenty Standard Terran years old again, Luther was keeping their planet safe and news of the heresy hadn’t even reached them yet.

The last moments of peace, so long ago…

The thought steeled his resolve, he knew what he was fighting for, why he was doing this. He couldn’t let his own grudges paint this moment in red, he had his brothers and even his own gene-sons behind him now.

Emperor: “Do you mean to tell me he thought Lion betrayed the Imperium?”  
Magnus: “It would certainly explain **a lot** …”  
Malcador: “So, you mean to tell me…”  
Emperor: “No… just-just… no… I just hope not…”  
Sanguinius: “But the codexes and the vids from before all said that Lion was loyal! But now we have his son saying he went traitor?!”  
Konrad: “Maybe, maybe not. Everything is true, yet not everything is real.”  
Guilliman: “Looking at the Lion’s records, and his clash with his gene-sons back on Caliban after the heresy… something far **far** worse might just be possible…”

“Team Vigilus, I want you to fully secure this area. We can use this as our fall back position if our plans go awry. Team Terminus, I want you to coordinate with the rest of the legion. If we succeed, this entire place will turn into a warzone and we cannot let this ship go. Team Barus, you will be with me. We will take the lesser route to the antechamber, no bolters until we are secured inside, silent clean kills only. No chain weaponry.” He spoke to his three kill teams, who nodded, a fist to their chests.

“Yes, my Primarch.” They agreed.

Mortarion: “...I didn’t want to bring it up, with everyone questioning Lion’s loyalty but… Does anyone want to stop and think about this right here?”  
Emperor: “After the vid, Morty. After the vid.”

“Good. With honour and health, my brothers.” Gabriel nodded to them one last time before turning to the nearest exit, his own power sword already out and ready for their long trek through _the_ _Rock_.

And so they delved into the dark, their minds, bodies and souls burned with the same intensity of times long past, millennia of waiting soon to be finally over.

The trek through was excruciating. They snuck through the corridors as best they could, anyone who saw them was dispatched immediately with little trouble. It was as if these modern Dark Angels were a downgrade to the original legionnaires. Their dark green and white certainly was deserved, they would only bring dishonour to the black and red.

But what made Gabriel apprehensive was that he hadn’t yet seen a single Watcher. Where were they? How long until they would be swarmed? If they don’t see them now, they must have been spreading the news? Yet no reinforcements came.

It put him and his team on edge, ready for the fight of their lives at any moment. He was almost tempted to make a distraction and clear out their area to allow a faster infiltration…

The costs and benefits of that though… No. He couldn’t put his brothers and sons in danger like that. Even if he so desperately wants to just run in madly to behead the bastard, he couldn’t risk them. Not after all this time and waiting.

“Team Terminus to Team Barus, organization of fleet has been completed. Waiting on orders to deploy.”

Gabriel activated his vox link. “Route to the objective has been postponed. Detection has been kept in shadow. The eyes have not been seen, expect a full assault at any moment.”

A pause before he heard an answer from Team Barus, “Acknowledged, bringing in the fleet.”

The warning klaxons began blaring all around them, even as the first shots were heard impacting the void shields.

“So it begins.” Slowly spoke Gabriel even as they continued walking deeper and deeper into _the Rock_. They would find no Dark Angels here. Nothing lived here, courtesy of the Watchers in the Dark.

Soon they came to a path of eight different hallways. This… wasn’t part of the plan. Gabriel quickly tapped his Vox-link. “Team Vigilus, we have reached a point with eight different hallways. Give directions.”

The eerie sound of static was his only answer.

“Team Vigilus, report.” He attempted once more, only to be greeted yet again by more static. He knew something had happened, the chances of the operation going south had just risen exponentially.

“I do not like where this is going, my Lord.” Mentioned one of his kill team.

“Neither do I, nonetheless, we push on-” Gabriel whirled around, his honed reflexes so quick that he had his sword leveled at the diminutive xenos’ head quicker than a human could blink.

The Watcher in the Dark seemed unfazed. Merely looking up at him through the darkness of his hooded robes.

Vulkan: “I am unsure on how to feel about these little xenos living on _the Rock_ .”  
Corvus: “Father did say that we don’t have to kill every single xeno we come across, since the protectorate system exists. If they aren’t hurting the Dark Angels, then what’s the point of killing them?”  
Vulkan: “I suppose...”

“Is it dangerous, my Primarch?” Said one of the team even as he pointed a bolter at the xeno.

“No.” Wairily answered Gabriel, even as he sheathed his sword.

Gabriel stared at the diminutive creature. His mind wondering what exactly it wanted. Despite common belief, the Watchers always had an agenda.

“What do we do, my Lord?” Asked yet another of his team.

“Follow.” Answered Gabriel, even as they began to walk after the small xeno.

For minutes they walked in complete darkness, the only way forward illuminated by their helmets night vision. The route was long, winding, and made Gabriel become more on edge as time passed. Every silent moment only added to the anxiety making him wonder more and more when the enemy would pop out. The entire operation was too easy.

Then, finally, they came upon a grand looking wooden door. A door that had haunted his mind for millennia.

“I would recognise this damn door anywhere.” Softly spoke Gabriel to the rest of the team. His senses strained to listen to any movement behind the door, even the smallest brushes. Silence met his probing, only heightening his mounting paranoia.

“How so, my Lord?”

“When I was but a toddler, I remember sitting in front of it. I sat there for hours, hoping to catch even a glimpse of him.”

“Him?”

“My _gene-sire_.” Spat out Gabriel. The word left a sour taste in his mouth. So much wasted time, hoping to see him. Hoping fruitlessly that he would acknowledge him. Bitter memories of so long ago made him want to retch out his organs and peel his eyes out. 

The hatred he felt at the moment forced him back to the present. He was here for one reason, after all.

“Open it.”

He commanded slowly, savoring the moment. Finally, all of the waiting and countless planning. All of the training, the patience…

It would all be repaid in full.

His team spread out, and even as two Astartes began to slowly pull open the door, the rest of his team pointed their weapons toward the door. Expectations of a fight being relatively high.

As soon as the door opened, a massive billow of smoke filled the room.

Corvus: “An ambush if I ever did see one.”  
Emperor: “Making it obvious, but yeah.”  
Malcador: “The question is, who is on the other side?”  
Emperor: “I have an informed guess.”

“Heat vision!” Commanded Gabriel via his Vox, even as he did so himself.

It didn’t help one bit. The smoke looked completely red.

_Heated smoke… anti-astartes weaponry._

“Huddle together! Watch each other's backs!”

The Astartes fell together quickly. Pressing back to back even as they waited for the smoke to clear. When it finally did, to say the sight they found was alluring, would be the understatement of the century.

There, in the doorway stood Lion El'Jonson. Not in a cold medical sleep as previously thought. But standing, fully armoured and alert. His cold green eyes scanning the warriors in front of him with contempt even as his black and red armour stood dull, adorn with the signs of obvious negligence.

“It took you all this long to discover me?”

Horus: “Ten thousand years and he hasn’t changed a bit.”  
Emperor: “Really, no one really changes. Look at future Corvus. And future Vulkan. And-”  
Corvus: “We get it.”

The Primarch’s very voice commanded respect and obedience. The genes in all of the present Astartes began subconsciously twitching as they registered the presence of their _true_ Primarch for the first time in millennia.

Their resolve shook, falling deaf to the orders from their Pri- their brother. Hearing him and seeing him, their genes were working against their plans. Their vox-links came to life, with Teams Terminus and Vigilus calling out their active engagement with the enemy. Team Barus kept their distance from the coming clash of the Primarch and his son, but were able to intercept enemy Astartes who were coming to support their Primarch; finally able to forgo just their melee weapons and use their own bolters.

But one felt nothing from his own genes, the same one who led them into this moment. He stood before his brothers, eyes boring into the Lion’s in this moment. He was tempted to take his helmet off now, they were almost the same height, the same build. But he knew, he knew this man would know who he was before he could say anything.

So he stayed silent, sword at the ready, his earlier jitters replaced with calm, cold resolve. Filled with determination in the face of his true enemy, even if there were the sounds of battle around them, he focused on his target before him, confident that they would not be interrupted.

Lion, almost looked bored as he readied his own blade, it wasn’t his own fabled Lion Sword, but it would have to do; it was, only Gabriel after all. He pointed it toward his son, his voice echoing around the chamber, if it had not been drowned out by the sounds of battle. “Of course it would be you, here. Exactly as I would have done.”

Those words set Gabriel off, letting out a shriek of anger as he threw himself into combat with his own father. The clash of the two was hard to keep up with, even to the present Astartes, it looked like a massive blur even as they heard the distinct noise of two power swords colliding with each other. 

The son attempted to wildly charge at his father, making his onslaught of an offense be his defense, fueled by his anger at the one before him. His mind brought up every single snide comment, every time he put him down and every single disappointed glare to dance in his mind’s eye.

Leman: “The kid is admittedly doing pretty badly.”  
Sanguinius: “And Lion is going to take advantage of that, no doubt.”

“Still the child. This is not a training duel.” Spoke Lion even as he used the pommel of his sword to knock away Gabriel’s enraged blade before bringing around his sword and swinging directly for Gabriel’s head, who was just barely able to dodge it, the tip of the blade shearing directly across the armourglass of his helmet’s lense and the cameras behind them.

Sanguinius: “Called it.”

Now effectively blind, Gabriel swung out with his legs in a desperate attempt to knock away his father even as he reached up with one of his arms and ripped off the damaged helmet. He knew he had to calm down, letting anger cloud his judgement would be his undoing, he couldn’t be held down, not now of all times! But the words, the voice, it made him feel unhinged rage and hatred fill his entire psyche.

He found his father staring at him with a cold contemplative look. Disappointment slowly edging its way onto his face.

“I did not expect much. Yet you still manage to disappoint me.”

_“I did not expect much. Yet you still manage to disappoint me.”_

_Young Gabriel was a crumpled form on the dirt of the training grounds, his body ached fiercely from the beating he took. He looked up, from between the fingers of his hands that tried to cover his head. He saw it._

Emperor: “A flashback this powerful?”  
Magnus: “His connection must be strong.”  
Emperor: “In the irregular way, yes…”  
Magnus: “Odd, really. I have noticed a trend when it comes to our children, as if they must suffer their own curses that they must deal with for the rest of their lives.”  
Roboute: “Really now?”  
Magnus: “Yes. Aegidius must bear the curse of having Father with him at all times, his own lack of faith in himself and from what I’ve picked up on him, a lust for freedom.”  
Emperor: “And what can you see with Gabriel?”  
Magnus: “A short fuse, prone to anger quickly, also seems to suffer from intense memory resurfacing. I require more time to really analyze them all, but so far? I believe my hypothesis on them is getting more and more clear…”

_That disappointment inside of his father, as he looked down at him with that look on his usually stoic face. The pure disappointment and hint of contempt._

_“You had the advantage, I didn't even have a weapon on me. You had the odds stacked with you and still you haven’t landed a single blow on me. Again, you have shown me you are beyond inept.”_

_Gabriel only further curled into himself, trying to escape that look on his face. He was a failure._

_Just a failure._

_He tried his hardest, he tried so hard to finally do something right, to finally hit him. But he was still just the same fourteen year old boy who was brought in from the forest only months ago. He couldn’t do it, and now..._

_He was a failure, because he just wanted this psychopath to stop looking at him like that._

_Why wouldn’t he stop looking at him like that?_

Horus: *Glances vaguely at Emperor*  
Emperor: “What?” *See more of the Primarchs looking at him* “What!?”  
Malcador: “You gave him that trait Revelation.”  
Emperor: “I did not-”  
Horus: “I will bet my own right hand that you did.”  
Emperor: “I didn’t mean for Lion to turn out like this!”

The jeer roused Gabriel, memories pushing him as he threw himself into the fight with renewed fury. He was not a failure! He was not a failure dammit! He hated that look on his face!

_That is where he found him._

_That same voice, that same gentle hand. He found him still curled into a tight ball on the dirt, humming to himself to stop his mind from replaying those words to him again, and showing that face of disappointment._

_He felt that hand rub his back, careful to not disturb the still healing breaks in his bones and the discolored flesh of his back._

_“You did your best.”_

_Gabriel stopped his humming, cautiously looking up and hating how he wanted to see a different man there. But he still was grateful to have Luther there, giving just enough comfort._

_But he still looked away, wanting to go back into the dirt where he felt he belonged. “I failed.”_

_Luther didn’t say anything, but he did stand up. “Get up.” When he didn’t, he cleared his throat and repeated it._

_He slowly sat up and got to his feet, looking away from Luther. He didn’t want to talk, he didn’t want to train anymore. He just wanted… He wanted… Someone. He just wanted the face to go away._

_“Come at me. I’ll show you what to do.”_

_He hated how he wanted to die, just from hearing that gentle voice. But he relented and decided to keep training with Luther._

_“Good, now the trick is to-”_

The lessons were breaking through his anger, all the lessons Luther taught him were emerging; all about how he needed to focus, to calm down. To only then show his true strength. To never bite the bait. He swallowed his rage, focusing on his stances and his own strength. He needed to focus, to not think about him, to think about Luther.

Fulgrim: “Impressive! Most impressive!”  
Emperor: “His skills have grown since last they met.”  
Fulgrim: “Wha-”  
Malcador: “But he is not a master yet.”

*Collective familial confusion*

The shift in Gabriel was instant, his rage no longer clouded him for the moment as he turned the tables and made the battle much more balanced, his ferocity with the blade moving from defending against his father, to now trading parried blows. The chamber around them was alive with battle, bolter rounds being shot, the sound of power blades clashing, the revving of chain blades, the explosions of plasma, it was all simply white noise to the two demi-gods, the two warring factions giving room to them, despite their frenzied state of trying to kill each other, all knowing that getting in the way of their fight would only result in their own swift death.

Finding his opening, he began to slowly drive his father back, through the chamber from whence he had emerged and up a grand staircase, the height difference giving his father the edge, but allowed Gabriel to push him back enough to switch from two handed bladed combat, to one handed with his bolt pistol. He became a flurry of movement and shells, his father responding with more calculated attacks to disrupt the rhythm that Gabriel was moving to. At some point, one of the Fallen had been thrown into the mobile arena the two fought in, he had been cleaved into two with a single swipe, not given so much as a second glance by the Primarch.

Gabriel sneered, his brown eyes burning with hatred. “Don’t you even feel a shred of remorse for the one you just killed? Maybe that’s why you stood back, you don’t care for life, do you?” The words falling from him naturally, his anger at the past coming forth during their battle.

Lion parried another blow, dodging the shell sent his way as he pushed Gabriel back. He narrowed his eyes at the petulant brat, he knew nothing of what he spoke of-!

Malcador: “Hey, Revelation, how well did that one go? I always did say taking away most empathy from one would backfire, but did you listen to me?”  
Emperor: “That was right before you tried to get me to make half of them female!”  
Malcador: “You almost did, and now we have nothing but boys in a giant dick waving contest.”  
Primarchs: “We take offense to that!”  
Malcador: “Tell it to Horus, he did it literally.”  
Horus: “Can we not talk about my conqu-!”  
Sanguinius: “Shush! This is interesting!”  
Horus: *Grumbling*

Both enraged, they clashed again and again, the factions in the back nearly matched, the black-red and dark green-white almost a blurred mix of shattering ceramite and splattering blood. 

The battle between brothers only escalated when Fallen reinforcements flooded in from their makeshift base from the forgotten side of _the Rock_ , just as the reinforcements of Dark Angels came from deeper within _the Rock_ as well. The increased bodies and the bolter rounds and heavier weaponry, exploding into the architecture of the chamber causing large pieces of masonry to crack above and even some to fall and crash into the grand staircase and floors of the chamber.

The fallen masonry quickly began to be used for cover and vantage points by both factions, serving only to the even battle further, threatening to cause more destruction to _the Rock_. 

Gabriel had rolled away from the piece that fell onto the staircase, using those precious seconds to rethink his strategy. Wide open areas like this weren’t good, his father was in his element here, the height advantage was against him as well. 

He quickly holstered his bolt pistol, instead activating his power sword to split into two blades, the dual wield stance could be better-

This was the moment that his father burst through the debris, looking like an avenging daemon as his eyes blazed with anger, his Fortress Monastery being ruined, enough to make him more and more angry with each passing moment. Gabriel just barely blocked the blow, his feet sinking into the ground of the stairs from the force behind the slash that was thrown at him even as he physically slid back.

_Having two swords in his hands wasn’t very comfortable, his sixteen year old body wasn’t used to this new stance, he was taught that two handed was better-_

Emperor: “There he goes again! Looks like you were right Magnus.”  
Magnus: “It appears so… poor child…”  
Konrad: “Not really a child anymore is he? He is almost as old as us at this point, a few centuries up or down.”  
Magnus: “True… however seeing how much he has suffered as one… From what I am gathering, he seems to randomly jump to moments of the past, either by random chance or by a trigger. Almost as if he’s living in both the past and present.”  
Emperor: “You might be more correct than you think, the time anomaly which, at one point or another, had swallowed all of the future Fallen forces could have influenced his mind particularly hard, a time stretch in a mind is a low price to pay.”  
Konrad: “Egh, it’s not so bad. I live in both the present and the future at the same time, and look how I turned out!”  
Everyone: “Exactly! You paranoid bat of perverted justice!”

_“What are some advantages to dual wielding, Gabriel?”_

_He grumbled at Luther, wanting to go back to two handed swords. That’s what his father told him to use-_

_“Answer me.” Luther commanded, making Gabriel shudder._

_“Well, you have two weapons…” He shrugged, testing the weight of one sword in his hand. “You can attack more often… Can attack in different ways too… But it’s not as strong-”_

_“Strength behind your blows isn’t everything. If strength was all that was required to become a master duelist, then the damned Orks would be able to kill us all easily.”_

_He winced, knowing he had to be smarter when answering Luther._

_“The speed and the timing of a strike can be as powerful as a strong cleave from a large sword. But remember, many small hits can be just as devastating as a large one.” Luther lectured him, adjusting his stance to show him the proper way to use his new blades. “Flexibility in battle can save you. Changing your blades into one can help you when you need strength, but separating them and using them both can help you when speed is what you need.”_

_Gabriel ducked his head, feeling a bit more confident in his skills. But it couldn’t, and wouldn’t be enough…_

_But he would try, for Luther._

Using the old lesson, Gabriel used his versatility to practically dance around his father, using his speed against the strength he was against now. 

As the duel continued, they chipped off bits and pieces of each other's armour, never directly drawing blood, even as their surroundings were decimated by both their fighting and the fleets outside firing upon one another.

The two knew that the fight on the grand staircase would leave them at the mercy of the crumbling chamber, the fleets causing more damage to the Fortress Monastery with stray or even intentional shots.

They consciously pushed each other into the connecting corridors, their own personal duel not stopping for so much as the blink of an eye. They fought through the heart of the chamber, breaking through the fighting Astartes and through yet another wall, and using the smaller space of the corridor for a tighter form of combat.

Any Astartes who ran into the two fighting, be it Dark Angel or Fallen, was overtaken by the sight of two Demi-gods fighting each other. Their very genes refused to intervene in the fight, sometimes giving their enemy a chance for a free blow if they weren’t looking at them.

The chaos of the battlefield nearly overtook their personal arena, but thankfully only broke through rarely when either of them had to cleave through either a Fallen or Dark Angel, respectively.

The battle almost came to a still hush once the corridor they were engaged in was hit by a lance from the Fallen Fleet, causing Gabriel to become unbalanced, giving Lion a chance to deliver a free blow downwards at his son. Only by sheer damn chance, did Gabriel cross his blades in time to catch the cleave, his arms straining to hold back the blow.

He shuddered as his arms nearly buckled from the force, the blade of his father nearly touching his exposed face. From between the crossed blades, did Gabriel see it.

That face. He was making that face again-!

That look of utter **disappointment**...

“S-Stop it!” He shouted at his father, red filling his vision as he was filled with the damned memories of the past. He could hear the sound of it in his mind, the sound of a body hitting the ground with a wet thump-

_He watched it-_

_Oh by the throne why-_

_He watched her, the first time he had ever seen her since he was taken and thrown into the forest-_

_No!_

**_NO!_ **

_He couldn’t stop it, the image of her climbing up the railing of the balcony, standing and spreading her arms open as she stepped off. He could see from where he stood far away, he could see her face._

_Her face was one of suffering and woe. She had empty eyes, no light to be found, her face was thin and her hair hung loosely. She looked as if she refused to eat, refused to bathe, refused to continue on._

_He screamed out to her, hands out reached towards her, too far away to stop it-_

_She fell._

_He was silent as he stared at the body, watching as her body was cleaned up like any other common death._

_He knew_ **_HE_ ** _was to blame for this. He knew it._

_That was when he truly began to hate that psychopath._

Sanguinius: “Oh no…”  
Emperor: “He really is mentally scarred from Lion that just looking at his face, he only spent twenty-ish years with Lion? This is ten millennia later!”  
Horus: “More to the matter, we now know that the boy watched his own mother commit suicide.”

*There was a moment of silence from the family as they all let this fact sink in.*

Konrad: “I swear… If he wasn’t under such good guard at the moment…”  
Vulkan: “Get in line brother.”

“You! It was **_you_ **who did it!”

“Did what, you petulant child? What are you blaming on me yet again?”

“You!” Gabriel said with ever growing rage and ferocity. “You killed mother!”

Even as the Lions blade grew closer to Gabriel’s face, the young man did not relent. The memory of his long dead mother stabbing at his hearts far worse than any other pain he had ever experienced.

His father smirked.

“She did that herself, if you recall.”

“Yes! And it was you who pushed her to it!” Screamed Gabriel even as his father's sword was now barely even a millimeter away from his face.

“It was of no consequence to me.” The Lion clarified, the smirk transforming into that all too familiar look of disappointment. “She had served her purpose… and judging by you, failed in that as well.”

Emperor: “Wait… something isn’t right here…”  
Leman: “Like wolfin what? Lion is obviously using the poor lad’s mother’s death against him!”  
Emperor: “Yes… however there is something else… he is pushing the blame on him as well.”  
Lorgar: “Father, you cannot possibly be implying that-”  
Emperor: “I am. He grieves as well.”  
Malcador: “I’ve seen plenty of people react like this… it is a possibility.”

Hearts wrenching, Gabriel could feel the shuddering of his arms, struggling to hold back the blade of his father that came so close to his face. Attempting to put more strength into his block, Gabriel couldn’t stop the stinging in his eyes as his mind told him the truth he couldn’t face.

He wasn’t strong enough to fight against his father, he wasn’t strong enough to make Luther proud, he wasn’t strong enough to avenge his mother. It was a miracle he had lasted this long and done as much damage as he did. No matter what he promised to himself, his resolve was weakening as reality was hitting him full force. Luther would be so disappointed in him, his mother would have died for nothing.

Time stopped.

Her memory awakened something in Gabriel. An ancient memory he long since thought lost.

_The soft touch of her caring hands as he had hurt himself again…_

_Her gentle singing voice as he was sung to sleep…_

_And her blood curdling screams as he was taken from her so long ago._

_Taken from her by_ **_him._ **

**_Taken._ **

**_Humiliated._ **

**_Abused._ **

**_Broken._ **

_Pushed until she could last no longer…_

The rage fueled Gabriel. It began to give him power. Power enough to defeat, to even **kill** a Primarch. Ten thousand years of training, ten thousand years of waiting, ten thousand years of humiliation.

_Ten thousand years of not even remembering how she looked…_

_All because of_ **_him._ **

**_He killed her._ **

**_He killed her..._ **

_He killed the only one who ever cared for him besides Luther..._

_And he took the latter one as well..._

His blood boiled.

Sanguinius: “Fury is useful but this-”  
Leman: “This be rage! The lad is going to lose himself in the bloodlust!”

With one move of his new found strength, he swept aside his father's greatsword and headbutted the Primarch hard enough with his forehead that his whole world had spun, breaking a fraction of his own skull in the process and causing blood to stream down from his forehead.

Looking toward his father, he noticed that the Lions nose was at a semi awkward angle, he had evidently broken it, drawing blood.

First blood went to neither.

The two unleashed their hatred upon each other, no words exchanged nor necessary. Pure loathing in each attack, each hit. Nothing stopped the two figures as they battered each other. Not the inter-legion war going on around them. Not the destruction of the Dark Angels home. Not the shaking blows from the fleet battle they were currently fighting through.

The Dark Angels knew that they had to escape from the Fallen Fleet, the continued void battle was going to get them all killed. The helmsmen began to navigate an emergency warp jump, hoping to cut the enemy off from the rest of their fleet and give their men inside a chance to win against the invaders. Coordinates put in, a path was charted, the navigator began to open the massive warp rift, and soon _the Rock_ would Warp Jump away, giving them all the chance to win against the enemy.

The flicker was unnoticed until it was too late, the warp jump initiated and commenced, the enemy fleet doing their best to follow and ignoring the flicker of the Astronomicon. The Primarch was in battle, their brother still inside. 

Their desperation caused them to commit to the dangerous maneuver of setting course directly for the warp rift, hoping against all odds to cut off the mobile Fortress Monastery even as the rift itself grew more and more unstable even as the navigator began to scream, his connection to the astronomicon blinding him as it flared.

And not even when the announcement of a massive warp phenomena, beginning to occur outside, came over the Vox-mitters of _the Rock_. Father and Son stayed locked in their fight. Murderous intent evident on their faces even as _the Rock_ and surrounding fleet was swallowed whole by the seething tides of the warp.

Magnus: “Hold on… 204, a flicker… That was Aegidius! When he had one of his tantrums!”  
Emperor: “That is not damn good…”  
Guilliman: “How bad are we talking here?”  
Magnus: “Bad…”  
Lorgar: “How-”  
Emperor: “Me ordering the burning of Monarchia bad.”  
Lorgar: “Oh… I… I see…”

**…  
** **209.M42 - Emperor-Class Battleship -** **_The Ardent Will  
_ ** **…**

Sanguinius: “Oh come on!”  
Fulgrim: “Sanguinius, calm down-”  
Sanguinius: “ _The Rock_ is about-”  
Rogal: “This is… annoying.”  
Perturabo: “I agree too much with you for once to smack you.”  
Jaghatai: “Patience, brothers. We will receive our answers, this has to be connected.”  
Corvus: “When Sanguinius has more in common with Angron, then you might want to reconsider those words.”

“As you can see my Lords. The situation across the entire North-Western border of Imperium Secundus has been a peculiar one.” Lord Admiral Spire briefed the Prince and his escort on his flagships bridge. He was surrounded on all sides by Space Wolves, the Custodes, Bjorn, and of course Aegidius. All were watching intently as the Lord Admiral was showing off their current sphere of operations on a holomap that was displayed in front of them on a massive holotable.

Guilliman: “North… Western… border…”  
Emperor: “Oh no…”  
Guilliman: “The… the… the same one as… the-the…”  
Horus: “Brother?”  
Guilliman: “The same one as the… Black Legion…” *Pulls pillow to face and begins to scream again*  
Sanguinius: “Maybe it won’t be so bad?”  
Guilliman: *Screams harder*

“While the border is absolutely teeming in Augur probes and weapons platforms, it seems to have no need for them other than discovering new friendly ships entering the system.”

The holomap zoomed out to show more of the zone outside of the North-Western border.

“As we see here, the system outside is absolutely crawling with hazards of all types. Ranging everywhere from pirates, to daemons, to warp storms. The area is quite unstable in the centre due to the waves emanating from the Eye of Despair, however, the Cicatrix Maledictum appears to be inadvertently keeping them semi-stable as well. The warp storms do not approach the maledictum itself, while an unknown factor has been drawing most of our enemies attention.”

A red dot lit up on the map, about the distance of Imperium Secundus away from the North-Western border.

“Something, or rather, someone is keeping them busy, and attracting a lot of attention while doing so.”

Rogal: “I would be proud. That is a well fortified border.”  
Corvus: “I believe you have just jinxed us brother…”  
Konrad: “I agree with the little Raven on this one.”  
Rogal: “I must find my anti-jinx lumber-”  
Magnus: “Better find it fast, then.”

“We ought to be grateful to them.” Spoke Bjorn, even as his heavy Dreadnought chassis walked closer to get a better look.

“Whatever is positioned here is drawing a lot of our enemies attention.” The Dreadnought stopped for a moment as if to think. “I recall this area being a moment of great importance in the Great Crusade, specifically after the triumph of Ullanor…”

Everyone edged closer to the Dreadnought, all wanting to hear more about the fabled times of the Great Crusade.

“... though I cannot seem to recall exactly as to why at the moment.”

Sanguinius: “Really?”  
Fulgrim: “Ok, now I am getting annoyed.”  
Sanguinius: “This is the worst.”  
Emperor: “Wait… they aren’t saying that it is still all there?”  
Malcador: “Oh… that would be bad… or good… depending on who the planet belongs to.”  
Sanguinius: “Will you _please_ enlighten us?”  
Emperor: “Hush Sanguinius, I promise that all will be revealed in good time… I hope…”

*Grumbles from all around*

Everyone’s shoulders sagged slightly in disappointment, most were quick to dismiss those thoughts however. If Bjorn did not remember, then the area was most likely not _that_ important. There would be time for speculation and archival research later.

Malcador: “Can I say it?”  
Emperor: “No no, let them stew.”  
Primarchs: *Glares*

“What other forces are in the area?” Asked Aegidius in a desperate attempt to make himself feel as if he was contributing something, anything really, to the meeting.

With a motion of the Lord Admiral's hand, the hololithic projection changed into a statistical screen, showing various icons and numbers. “A small part of the main fleet garrisons this border, roughly two dozen war ships, two of which are battleships.”

Roboute: *Pointedly stares at Sanguinius*  
Sanguinius: “Oh… so maybe not so well fortified…”

“Why fortify an empty border?” Asked Aegidius yet again, this time genuinely interested. The voice of his grandfather let out a pained noise, asking him: **And you want me to stop treating you like a child? That was beyond painful to hear from you.**

Spire turned toward Gidius, a stern look in his eye. “If we are to lightly defend such a massive border, any attack would cut through us like an armed moon. In but a galactic moment, the entirety of the Imperium Secundus would have the possibility of shattering from even a lighter war fleet. Thus, we require a hefty force in the area.”

Perturabo: “Only one line of defence?”  
Rogal: “Desperation and lack of resources.”  
Perturabo: “I agree with that, however, it leaves the entirety of the Imperium Secundus open to an attack if it breaks.”  
Horus: “More of a testament to the Imperium’s state than anything.”

*A chorus of half-hearted agreements*

Aegidius merely nodded, both out of a mix of humiliation and understanding.

“But although the force here is sizable, we would only be able to hold off a small preliminary assault. To hold off a main one would require mass amounts of reinforcements.”

Suddenly, a massive force shook the battleship.

“What in Leman’s hairy balls was that?!” Yelled out one of the Space Wolves even as the ship stabilized again.

Leman: “...really?”  
Magnus: “Would you have preferred they say ‘wolf tits’ instead?”  
Leman: “I would prefer they keep wolves out of this! And me too!”  
Jaghatai: “Says the man who named his new Fortress Monastery ‘Wolf Home’.”

*Wolf grumbling*

Horus: “Anyway, ignoring connotations to Leman’s nether region, I am more interested in what caused the battleship to shake like that?”

“Sensorium, what do you see?!” Shouted Spire toward the rest of his bridge crew even as some of them scrambled to their controls.

“Uh… just a moment sir, an image is coming up now.” Reported the master of the Sensorium even as on one of the screens there appeared a heavily damaged and war-torn transport ship. The ship was drifting away from where it emerged from the warp. It looked as if most of its armor plating was forcibly shredded off at one side, with plenty of areas where there were hastily made patches to keep the punctures from opening and spilling out their personnel.

Corvus: “I have seen some beat up functional ships in my time.”  
Guilliman: “Yes… this one takes the cake for me too.”  
Rogal: “There is no such cake product.”  
Perturabo: *Backhands*  
Emperor: “Only the first one of the session, Rogal is improving.”  
Malcador: “Maybe speed up the learning process, so I won’t have to sit through another one of Rogal’s ‘quips’.”

“Sir, they are sending out a distress call.”

“Let them through.” Ordered Spire even as one of the crew opened up a Vox link.

“-anyone out there? Please, we are in dire need of assistance!” The newly opened vox link between the two ships crackled, the voice of a distressed captain coming through.

“Captain, we were in dire need last week. We are in ‘beyond death and slightly peeved that we’re still alive’.” Said another voice.

Horus: “What kind of-”  
Emperor: “Ahhh, been a while since that reference was made.”  
Sanguinius: “What reference?”  
Malcador: “Old one. You had to be there.”

“No, we are in dire need! ‘Slightly peeved’ passed months ago! We are definitely in ‘we are going to die without a bar in sight to ease our pain’.”

“...maybe we can stick the bucket in one of the holes and have him be another set of eyes-?”

“We are not sticking the last of our servitors into one of the holes, _Skipper_ ! We wouldn’t be able to put it there, in the first place, **_Skipper_ **, if it wasn’t lodged halfway in the floor, ya bloody wanker!”

Horus: “I uh… perhaps they have gone mad due to warp corruption?”  
Lorgar: “I… don’t think that is the case here.”  
Malcador: “Sounds like farmhand Albyon to me.”  
Ferrus: “Are they seriously considering putting a servitor into the hole in their ship to make a quick patch job?”  
Emperor: “I don’t know, Ferus, alright?”

“Well, then, we’re rightly **facked** then, aren’t we captain?”

Lord Admiral Spire now stepped forward to the Vox hailer himself. “Who is this? Identify yourself immediately!” He was _far_ too old for this shenaniganry.

“-yes? Hello? Hello, hello, right! This is Captain Jerenn of the- actually no, the name doesn’t even matter anymore the ship is kind of a pile of scraps. Bugger. We are in dire need of assistance please? We have been running and getting attacked by enemy ships for months now.”

“Yes!” Spoke the second voice, “We have a small crew, around fifty souls worth of us? Not including our Space Marine friend of course. Should also tell you that we are still drifting and I can’t really stop it. So maybe some assistance? We’re on a bit of a collision course with you guys and-”

Roboute: “They waited until now to tell them they’re on a collision course with them!?”  
Rogal: “...I suspect they are high on narcotics.”

Spires eyes widened even as he turned toward his crew again.

“Sound collision alarms!”

The Alarms barely began to wail even as the smaller transport bumped into the battleship. Causing minor dents in the battleship's meters thick armoured hull.

Guilliman: “I have uh… seen some incompetence in my day…”  
Emperor: “Roboute, just remember this. Humans are by far, the most frustrating, insane, genius, stubborn and surprising race in the galaxy. They will always find a way to shatter your expectations, be them good or bad.”  
Malcador: “The sooner you boys understand this, the easier it is to not be surprised by your fellow man anymore.”

“Oh, maybe I should have opened with the collision course warning. Sorry about that, well hey! We’re going to meet face to face soon so we can talk about it then!”

“Captain, they may be a bit more inclined to scrape us off now…”

“Have some hope, Skipper.”

“My name isn’t Skip-”

“Well Captain, it would be useful if we could actually _see anything_! I mean we covered up all the bridge windows in spare armour plating to cover ourselves from enemy fire...” There was the distinct sound of metal bending. No doubt the crew was taking down the aforementioned armour plating. “…but-by the Emperor's blue balls! We are fucked! Run! Run! Get us out of here before…”

Konrad: “Lots of colorful swears this time. I need to remember these.”  
Emperor: “Konrad, do not use that one in front of others. If Lorgar can’t worship me, you can’t use me as a swear.”  
Konrad: “Hiss.”

Everyone on the battleship looked at each other and just stared for about a minute as the crew of the transport ship continued panicking at an increased volume by the second.

It was Bjorn to break the silence with his booming voximitter.“They said they had a Space Marine on board.”

Aegidius opened his mouth before closing it, repeating this action a few times before looking to Lord Admiral Spire. “...have… have you had to deal with this sort of situation before…?”

Lord Admiral let out a long, suffering sigh as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “No. No I have not.” He glanced at the collected Space Wolves and Custodes. “I assume you will go and greet our new friends if you please, my lords?”

Bjorn looked to Aegidius, and Aegidius looked at him. It took him a few seconds to realize something.

_What is he waiting fo-_

**He is waiting for you to give him command of the Custodes you idiot!**

_Will you stop insulting me!?_

**When you give the order!**

“Uh, Lord Bjorn, you of course have command of my Custodes?” Aegidius supplied lamely, sounding more unsure than actually giving access to a shield host.

Bjorn nodded and said a measly thanks before the raiding party walked off to the nearby airlock where the transport was now attached to.

When the raiding party reached the part of the ship that had been caved in by the transport ship, they were able to hear the voices of the people inside the ship, a myriad of voices all arguing and trying to figure out what they were going to do. They ordered the servitors to cut open that part of the ship to gain access to the crashed party, the hole opening and allowing them to look at the group.

“-Look, I understand, I should have opened with ‘we are on a collision course with you, please help’. But well, hindsight is twenty-twenty you know.”

“I don’t think the leader can be more disappointed with you now than he was when we were flying by that falling Fortress Monastery with that horde of Khornates attacking it.”

“Or what about that time we were chased by an army of war machines, captain? That wasn’t fun either.”

“I still think we should have listened to the red marines and maybe have given them a chance?”

“How was I supposed to know that they were friendly!? The last group of red marines we met tried to kill us with chainaxes and constantly screamed! We didn’t even have half a crew then!”

Malcador: “Has all this happened yet or…?”  
Emperor: “No, I assure you, none of this has happened.”

A new voice spoke up, putting all of them at edge and even made the raiding party stiffen, as if reliving a part of their pasts in this moment. A tall and large man wearing second and third hand armor pieces and cloth was visibly shaking as his hands mimed at the crew.

“I fall asleep for ten minutes, and we crash into an unknown ship while we have the Black Legion chasing after us!?”

Horus: “Wait... NO! NO NO NO **NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO-** ”  
Emperor: “ **Horus, why is your voice coming from that ship.** ”

“You what?!” Thundered the voice of one of the Space Wolves.

The Crew that was in their vision turned their head extremely slowly toward the raiding party. Everyone could swear that they could hear the sound of stone grinding on stone. The crew shrunk slightly and started to crowd behind the tall man in the mismatched armor.

“Who… is that?”

“Hey, uh… Rhous? Can… Can you protect us from them?”

Emperor: “ **Really? Are you kidding me? I raised you better than this.** ”  
Horus: *Continues to vehemently deny the situation going on screen*

“Hey, we saw him cleave through a Blackstone fortress with a spear and free fell onto our ship, he can do anything.”

“I uh… I’m not sure I can kill an entire Shield-Host of Custodes.”

“What!? But, we saw you murder an entire army of daemons! We saw you lead us through the army of war machines! Ohhhh… I don’t like how they’re looking at you…”

The one known as Rhous cleared his throat and slightly waved at the raiding party, apprehension and awkwardness coming off of him in waves. It was Bjorn, again, who was the one to speak up, all while the Custodes had their Guardian Spears pointed straight at Rhous.

“Hello there,” Bjorn spoke, leaning ever so slightly towards Rhous. “ **_Old friend._ **”

Horus: “Oh… **_fuck…_ **”

Rhous jolted, as if he knew that Dreadnought and nervously laughed, “Oh! Yes. Yes, it’s… nice to see you, you’re still alive, ha… ha…”

“Yes. Good to see you too. **Horus**.” At that, the Custodes as one all cocked their Guardian-spears in unison.

Horus: “...I’m guessing clone me is fucked.”  
Emperor: “As long as future me doesn't see you, you should be fine for the most part.”  
Konrad: “Don’t bet on it.”

**...  
** **209.M42, on the Bridge of the** **_Ardent Will  
_ ** **…**

**I can’t believe this…**

Emperor: “You're fucked.”  
Horus: *Internally screaming*

_What now Grandfather?_

Aegidius was once more lured into talking with his grandfather soon after the raiding party had left for the transport ship and the Lord Admiral went to do a damage assessment of his ship.

It was a normal conversation until his Grandfather suddenly fell quiet and spoke those words.

Aegidius didn’t like it. Not one bit. He could feel the Emperor becoming angry, well and truly furious. There was no mistaking the swing in his mood, it was like a switch on the trigger of a flamer. And Aegidius could feel the fire beginning to rise...

**You need to let me take the reins for a bit.**

_Wha-what?! No! If this is some ploy to get me to lower my guard again so you can-_

**I promise you, it is no such thing. You would be far better off to allow me to take the lead.**

There was none of the usual mocking tone present in his Grandfather's voice. For the first time in a while, Aegidius actually believed that his Grandfather wasn’t attempting to trick him. Whatever was causing this bout of anger, it was serious.

_I don't trust you one bit... But... Fine… but only for this._

**Yes yes, you'll get your body right back. I promise...**

Aegidius felt as his soul slipped back to a viewing seat, a chill going up his spine from the Emperor’s voice becoming more… menacing, even as he took full control, Aegidius almost tasting the disgust as the black mass of fury and fire clawed its way to the forefront of his mind and took control, making Aegidius almost intoxicated upon the Emperor’s emotions.

But… he held it back. Just barely, his training was finally beginning to show results as he maintained some level of control and awareness. 

He saw as his Grandfather began walking toward the transport. Some of the crew realized that there was something off about him and immediately looked away as the Emperor used his massive psychic powers to distract them.

Slowly, they descended until they came up to the airlock which fused the Battleship to the Transport ship. As the Emperor stepped through in Aeigidus’ body, they could both hear arguing going on.

_What's the rush?_

**You shall see.**

Aegidius could _feel_ the anger coming off of his Grandfather. It was almost as if it were rolling off of him in tsunami-like waves, threatening to drown anyone who was in their way. It was like being bathed in liquid fire like… like…

_Bastonye..._

They came up to the group of Custodes with their Guardian-spears pointed toward the Transport ships crew, and a massive marine in scrapped armour with a newly revealed head of short, brown cropped hair.

As Aegidius’ body approached them, the Custodes shifted apart by instinct to allow him through.

Bjorn in an act of surprise turned toward him.

“Little Prince, this is no place-”

“ **I can take care of myself Bjorn.** ”

*Stunned family*

Malcador: “That is…”  
Sanguinius: “Not Aegidius.”  
Magnus: “Not anymore, no.”

The voice Aegidus’ body spoke with was his and at the same time, someone else's. A strange amalgamation of human with a god-like baritone mixed in.

The Marine stared at him. For a minute he merely looked at Aegidius’ body like that of a child’s. Then he looked into his eyes. Really, truly looked.

Emperor: *Blinks many times, a hand coming to his head as he watches*

And Aegidius could pinpoint the nano-second that the Marine made the connection.

Not that he needed to. The Marine instantly took a step back. His shock and fear was apparent in his new stance, unable to voice the thoughts rushing through his mind.

“ **Greetings**.” Aegidus spoke again, the baritone in his voice even stronger as he felt his eyes begin to glow with a pale golden light, the malice and fire threatening to overtake him as he spoke with barely restrained fury.

“ **_Traitor_ ** **.** ”

Lorgar: “I can… feel the power even from here…”  
Magnus: “Father is literally making his own soul corporeal! No wonder you feel it!”  
Emperor: “Yes… Yes, you’re correct.”  
Malcador: “Are you alright, Revelation?”  
Emperor: “No… not at this moment. This is my former throne-bound self.”  
Malcador: “Meaning?”  
Emperor: “Meaning that I am essentially facing down the man who put me there in the first place.”  
Malcador: “Revelation… stay calm…”  
Emperor: “I’m perfectly fine. Tell it to the future me.”

The Marine fell to his hands and knees, unable to stand in the presence of his Father, the Emperor, in all his horrific glory. The fear and sorrow beyond apparent, the Marine fully cowed before the Emperor, head ducked down, the salt of tears in the air as he awaited for something, _anything_.

For his part, Aegidius could feel the Emperor coming through in a bigger way than ever before. He could even begin to feel his face shift and form that of the ancient beings old physical form.

Fulgrim: “That is-”  
Sanguinius: “- **impossible**!”

Unbeknownst to the rest of the family watching, the present Emperor, for only moments at a time, felt and saw what his own future self could as well. He would stay silent, unsure if he should be speaking up, or not…

...

Escaping from the warp this time had been a desperate venture to escape from the Black Legion. To be fair, that is how his life was for the past few years or so. Always running from the chasing threat, putting everyone he helped and saved back into immediate danger.

Falling into the warp and saving this ship had been one of his newest ventures, one he didn’t think he’d actually come to care for. Nor did he imagine he would come into contact with those that band of pure disbelief.

Word Bearers with Emperor’s Children and Thousand Sons along with World Eaters? The galaxy had gone truly insane at one point.

Yet that is what happened. He helped them when he could, they helped him when they could. He would divert that army of war machines chasing after them, they dragged his ship with them for a quick getaway. Even making friends with the unorthodox ship crew he happened to chance upon who risked life and limb for him.

But now, after running and hiding for so long, needing just a moment of rest, he awoke to find that the moment he was most dreading was here.

He was caught by a group who wanted nothing more than to murder him in cold blood, by his old enemies. And he deserved it, he would think to himself.

He knew he only had so long to live when he looked to see the Custodes pointing their Guardian-spears at him, a unified front ready to kill him in a moment’s notice. Even the ones who looked as if their spears were slightly lowered compared to their brothers.

He had removed his hood and wrap, his face revealed to the raiding party, but also his crew. His time living as an unknown marine was over.

Then his Father came back.

He could feel the overwhelming power of his Father, his anger was palpable in the air as he saw what looked like a young man approaching him, light golden hair, a fair visage, long ears, but the eyes…

Those were the eyes of his Father, burning so passionately at him.

He knew his Father died, he felt it the moment it happened, but seeing him through the eyes of another, alive and well…

Then he spoke. A simple greeting, but the word that made him fully collapse onto himself was the next. Spat out in such disgust, with a voice containing the fury of a million condemned souls, by an arbiter unmatched in celestial law, by the very true owner of his soul...

“ **_Traitor_ ** _._ ”

*Even across the presence of the vids, the family could _feel_ the very intensity of that moment. The psychic waves somehow managing to travel even space and time itself.*

Fulgrim: “Oh… oh no…”  
Sanguinius: “This is _not_ going to end well…”  
Lorgar: “I am getting flashbacks to a time and place I do not want to…”  
Konrad: “All of us are.”

Horus couldn’t handle the intensity of that glare, falling to his hands and knees before his Father, his eyes filling with unshed tears, the contents of his empty stomach threatening to come pouring out from the amount of soul quivering in fear and anticipation. 

His Father’s presence made his crew behind him duck their heads, some were openly weeping at the sight of them. But Horus only kept his gaze down, hands clenched tightly and droplets of water falling to the floor below him.

He felt as the Emperor began to gaze into his mind. Tearing through his memories almost as savagely as a Khornate Bloodthirster. Searching for something. What, Horus could not tell, especially not with the extreme amount of pain that this was putting him through. His mind far too concentrated on simply staying alive and wondering on how it was even possible that the Emperor was alive.

Finally, his Father found what he was searching for, and a certain memory was brought to Horus’ attention.

_“Who… who are you?”_

_“I am the Emperor of Mankind, your father.”_

_“Your… your my-my… papa?”_

_A chuckle._

_“Yes little one, I am your father.”_

_“Papa!”_

_He remembered running, and then a hug. Embracing the massive man who came from the stars and called him his father._

_“Let us go home, Horus.”_

And then there was only darkness… such… deep… unending… darkness…

It stared at him.

It _stared_ at him.

 _It was_ **_alive_ ** _._

The fire that burst forth blinded him entirely as he stood, forced to stare at the face of a decomposing corpse, with eyes burning with such fire that the heat threatened to turn him to ash.

“Father.” He whispered, with such fear and apprehension that he felt as if his very soul was being removed from his body even as the fire in the eyes grew and grew until it consumed him entirely.

*The family sat there in silence, the moment shocking all of them.*

Magnus: “I think father might have just…”  
Sanguinus: “Just what?”  
Magnus: “He might have…”  
Emperor: “Deleted his soul.”  
Malcador: “Revelation… you couldn’t-”  
Emperor: “I have told you Malcador… my future self is unstable…”

**…  
** **???.M42 - Somewhere in the Warp,** **_The Rock  
_ ** **...**

Horus: “No! Please stop it! I need to know what happens to me! Answer my questions you damned vid!”  
Emperor: “Nothing we can do, but watch now.”

When _the Rock_ slipped through into the warp, the flicker of the Astronomicon hadn’t been conveyed to the rest of their forces, too deep into their war with the Fallen to notice or even care.

Vox-links were quick to inform the Dark Angel forces that they were making the jump and were in the warp, giving them a second wind; it was only a matter of time before they would outlast the enemy. But this was a double edged sword, Fallen forces rejoiced. There wasn’t anywhere for their enemies to run now.

Only three didn’t care in the slightest, and two were currently trying to murder each other while the third watched from his spot, hidden away from the main fighting forces and the whirlwind of anger from the two dueling demi-gods. The savage whirl between the two cut through the air between them, sound sliced from the ferocity of their duel.

But the younger of the two, he was fueled with hatred. A hatred so potent and so filled with anger, it was only a matter of time before _the Rock_ was going to be attacked by a horde of Khornate daemons, maybe even the legion of a Bloodthirster.

The conflict was going to get even more complex…

Cypher dodged Fallen and Dark Angels alike, keeping close to the shadows and staying hidden. The Gellar fields would only be able to hold off for so long, he had been the one to see that their course had veered off wildly, their destination had changed so drastically that he couldn’t see it from where he hid. Something made the new Astronomicon flicker, at the exact moment they had planned their jump that made their entire plan go awry.

But now, he had only untold amounts of seconds before everything got even worse. He had to deliver it, he had to witness the moment the sword let itself be wielded once more.

Emperor: “Is it-?”  
Malcador: “Perhaps.”  
Horus: “Can you two stop being so cryptic?”  
Emperor: “But if we are, then we will ruin the surprise.”

The time was up.

A ferocious scream came from the younger of the two demi-gods which tore through the battle, the hate and anguish it carried nearly shattered the minds of those close enough to him, but they held nonetheless.

However... it did shatter something else.

The gellar field that protected _the Rock_ as it made it’s jump through the warp tore open at its weakest point, the continued beating it received from the Khornates outside and the sheer anger and hate coming from Gabriel was the straw that broke the grox’s back, pushing the daemons into a blood frenzy as they forcibly tore through with cries and promises to the God of Skulls and Blood.

The moment the first Khornate manifested itself into the battle, Cypher was able to see the look that Lion sent Gabriel, a face of a man that had been proven right.

“Stop looking at me like that!” Gabriel screamed, his twin swords being parried by Lion’s own two hander, holding them both in place. “What- What are you doing!?” He ground out, arms straining to push back against his father, eyes burning straight into Lion’s.

“Perhaps you haven’t noticed through your blood frenzy and annoying need to scream at me, but this duel has been invaded.” Lion spoke calmly, which made Gabriel even more pissed off at his tone, but he did glance to see the invading Khornates manifest and begin their own slaughter of their forces, both Dark Angel and Fallen alike.

“W-what…?” He pushed himself back from Lion, arms limp as he watched the battle turn into a near free for all, his mind cooling and his own actions coming back to slam into him. No… No this is… “This is my fault…” He whispered to himself, before forcing himself to defend himself against a Bloodletter who tried to cleave him into two. He let out a battle cry as he pushed back and in a flurry of strikes, and sliced the Bloodletter into pieces.

The Lion continued to fight the fallen daemon, making sure the monsters wouldn’t just manifest themselves again right then and there. He glanced at Gabriel, eyes cold and with a voice to match, “Yes. This is your fault. You not keeping a hold of your emotions and letting your petty grudges take control, your brothers are now dying against a horde that was attracted here by _you_. Now stop acting like a sniveling little child, take up arms and help me defend our Fortress before your mistake costs more lives.”

Vulkan: “I do not wish to say this, but it does appear to be the fault of the boy.”  
Magnus: “The anger certainly would attract the Khornates in the warp yes, but this number?”  
Emperor: “The anger he feels is strong. Much stronger than we see. It’s entirely possible for him to attract that large of a warband with how intensely he hates Lion.”

_“-many times do I need to tell you? You need to control your anger! You can’t give into it from a single mistake, you need to have better control.”_

_Luther was making that face at him. He_ **_hated_ ** _it when people looked at him like that. No. Doesn’t like it. Bad face. Doesn’t like it. Makes him angry._

_He tried to calm himself down, but with Luther looking at him like that, it was so... hard… He wanted to punch and scream and tear and rip and-_

_“Don’t look at my face. Focus on my words, and work from there. You are the master of your emotions and only you can calm yourself down.” Luther spoke, the voice that he had grabbed onto and forced himself to calm down._

_Luther was always right..._

_He just needed to control himself and calm down-_

“ _-I am calm!_ ” Gabriel ground out, snapping himself to the present and cutting through the hordes. He had to fight, he had to defend his brothers, he had to-

He felt as if he was going to be sick, thinking this. He was going to have to work together with his father and- oh… oh, no he couldn’t think about this...

The two were thinking along the same line, both angry with having to put their showdown on the side and having to work together to survive against the Khornates. “Ceasefire until the menace is gone and we are back in realspace.” The Lion spoke, sending off the order to the rest of the Dark Angels, both modern and past.

Sanguinius: “Impressive. Controlling his anger like that and thinking for the better of his own forces is what makes a good commander.”  
Roboute: “Agreed, however it is the situation that pressured them into it. I doubt we would see such cooperation without it.”

He hated agreeing with his father. But he would have to suck it up and have to fight alongside the man he hated the most for all of life. Alongside the traitors of the Dark Angels and their cowardly leaders and- no, he needed to put aside the blame for now. No matter how much they deserved to be hated...

It was time to clean up a mess.

When not fighting each other and being evenly matched, the father and son duo were a vision of magnificence. 

They moved in perfect sync and fought alongside the Dark Angels and Fallen equally, the slaughter turning to a more balanced fight against the Khornates. The smaller ones were the easiest to deal with, but it was the damned Bloodthirster that made everything worse.

The Bloodthirster was the biggest issue in this new battle, their very presence deadly against the legions, threatening to wipe them out if they weren’t a solid force against it.

That was the moment that Cypher was waiting for. The moment of the two demi-gods would be open to receiving the sword and not trying to kill each other every moment.

Ferrus: “Truly? That was his purpose?”  
Lorgar: “Can’t argue that it has some logic, not much, but some none-the-less.”  
Konrad: “All for one sword.”  
Guilliman: “From what we have seen, let us not judge him just by that. Father’s own sword in the future has a rather… unique… aspect of its own.”

**…  
** **Present time, Interrogation room aboard the** **_Ardent Will  
_ ** **…**

Sanguinius: “ _I’m not even surprised anymore._ ”  
Corvus: “Careful with that salt there, or else you’re liable to join Konrad and I.”  
Konrad: “hiss”  
Rogal: “What sa-”  
Malcador: “Stop.”

The next time Horus came to, he was vaguely aware of the massive straps holding his legs, torso and hands to the throne sized chair.

Horus: “I’m alive!”  
Konrad: “For how long?”

“-But I don’t understand grandfather! How could he be alive then if you erased his soul from existence!?”

The voice that was yelling was young, very young. He slowly peeked his eyes open and noticed the same little blond boy as he had before, only with none of his father present in his features.

“ **I already told you Aegidius, he is a clone, I saw it in his memories.** ”

Father? Where was he?! Horus wildly shifted his gaze left and saw what looked like a floating apparition of his father, gently floating off of the ground, where his legs were supposed to begin at the bottom of his torso there appeared to be a mere wisp of a warp like essence.

“With all due respect my Emperor. Wouldn’t it be wise to simply kill the bastard again?”

Bjorn. That was Bjorn’s augmented voice, there was no doubt about that.

“ **No, I have questions for him. A good one to start with is, what are you doing here Horus?** ”

Leman: “Nothing escapes father, you had a better chance of convincing an Eldar that we are superior beings then fooling him.”  
Horus: “In my future self's defense, it was worth a try.”

Knowing that there was no bluffing his father as to the state of his consciousness. Horus slowly moved his gaze back to the wraith, as he did so, he found two golden orbs staring back. He groaned slightly as he attempted to sit straight but was blocked by the restraints.

“ **I am waiting Horus, do not-** ”

“Grandfather! You just knocked him out by mentally exhausting him! Can’t you at least let him fully wake up before you start questioning him?”

His father's wraith whirled on the small boy, Aegidius, Horus remembered was his name.

Lorgar: “Wait, other people can see you now!?”  
Emperor: “It seems so. It seems future me is growing stronger, but for how long he can keep it up, remains to be seen.”  
Magnus: “Well, you do have an abnormally strong soul, so it would stand to manifest itself for short periods of time.”

“ **Do not presume to lecture me on his capabilities, boy! I have hand sown every single cell in his body at a point! I know when he is fully capable of answering me.** ”

Horus groaned again. The massive headache he had, now becoming obvious as his consciousness returned to him fully. “Leave the child… alone father… please.”

The wraith turned his attention back onto Horus. The golden orbs staring intently at him.

“I will tell you everything… I promise.”

And so he spoke. Telling his entire tale. Of how he came back to the world among a massive cabal of daemons and sorcerers. And of how he escaped thanks to a certain gift from the Emperor...

“ **I have not interacted with you in this, nor my throne bound life before this very moment. What lies are you weaving for me Horus?! Do you take me for a fool?** ”

“No father… I am telling the truth… I swear it.”

He felt as yet again his father probed his mind. Far more gently now. He felt as he dug deeper and deeper. And he watched in amusement as his father's wraith-like face slowly twisted in confusion.

“ **You speak the truth, yet I have never…** ” The Emperor trailed off, then he slowly turned back toward Horus as a revelation seemed to come about him. “ **Of course, the Star Child.** ”

“Who?” Asked Aegidius from behind the Emperor.

“ **A massive collection of my souls. He accounts for roughly half of my collective psyche.** ”

Emperor: “It seems that in this future he has only grown stronger in my absence… interesting.”  
Malcador: “And why isn’t that the case here?”  
Emperor: “Because I pulled him back into my original soul.”

*Sound of glass shattering and pointed staring*

Emperor: “We can talk about this later.”

“Then where is the other half?”

“ **Mostly I am that half. The miniscule parts are imbued in so called living saints and… other things that I am keeping an eye on. The Star Child is the only actual fragment of my soul that is a seperate being. Though there is… no, it is not important.** ”

“Grandfather… you… you split your soul?!”

The wraith form of the Emperor turned away from everyone.

“ **It was the only way.** ”

Horus: “Pause.”

The vid went still.

Horus: *Turns to the Emperor, the rest of the Primarchs doing so as well* “...care to explain this one?”  
Malcador: *Raises hands and sits back* “...I’m not getting into this one.”  
Magnus: “Simply told… might not be such a bad idea.”  
Horus: “You of all people are defending him, Magnus?”  
Magnus: “Yes actually, Father’s soul is supremely powerful. No matter how devastating soul shattering is, it can be extremely useful. Allowing father to keep an un-naturally powerful connection to the warp while also keeping a strong corporeal one in the matterium.”  
Fulgrim: “Yes but… still… splitting one's own soul? How painful must that feel?”  
Emperor: “As if every single fiber of your being is being torn in half.”

*The Family looked at the Emperor. The shock and surprise now being replaced with pity. Their father had done something he had thought the best for the Imperium… and he might have just been right.*

Emperor: “It’s the most excruciating event I have ever gone through, and even then sometimes I am unsure if it was the right thing to do. But at the same time, it has helped me put aside emotions I felt were unneeded. The Unification Wars had made it necessary. If I had been too kind, or too empathetic, anything could have gone wrong. Malcador has brought this up to me countless times, since after the wars, I thought and truly believed that I could continue on in the Great Crusade without my kindness and empathy. And well, all of you have all stood witness as to what happened there…”

*With a slight motion of the Emperor’s hand, the vid was un-paused.*

Silence took hold of the chamber as the Emperor appeared to sink deeper into thought. Horus however, had questions of his own. And there was one he wanted answered above all else. “You keep calling my father… grandfather. Why?”

The blond boy turned to him. “Well… because he is?”

Horus’ eyes almost bulged out at that. “What!?” He abruptly exclaimed, his shock evident to all present in the room.

“Well uh… you see.” The boy stammered as he tried to answer him. Horus’ cry of disbelief made him jump and doubt himself even more. “Uh well… My father- oh um… you- you know him as Roboute… that is… my father… when-when people love each other very much…”

Horus simply stared along with his father and Bjorn as Aegidius’ cheeks seemed to get redder and redder by the second as he continued explaining how he came to be.

Horus: “I um… ha…”  
Fulgrim: “This is most awkward…”  
Magnus: “Yes I uh… I agree…”  
Roboute: *Already screaming into the pillow again*  
Rogal: “Aegidius is rather awkward.”  
Roboute: *Screams harder*

At some point, Horus took pity upon the young boy and just cleared his throat, cutting off the explanation. “I know the process, little one.”

“Oh-Uh you do!? Why didn’t you just say so!? _Look I just found out recently and- and…_ ”

“ **Aegidius. Stop.** ” His father’s voice was actually gentle. It in fact sounded as if it might even have the tiniest smidgen of humor in it. “ **He is Roboute’s son.** ”

That one surprised Horus the most, even after the boy said that a few times himself. But still, he was shocked. “Roboute?! Honestly!? That politician managed to get a wife? Last I recall, he literally bored women to death and couldn’t be arsed to actually be interesting enough to keep even politicians entertained.”

Roboute: *Slowly looks up from his pillow and at Horus*  
Horus: “Uh… well… that is to say…?”

“ **I was more surprised than you, believe me. The fact that it was an Eldar only made it worse.** ”

Roboute: *Slowly turns gaze to the Emperor*  
Emperor: “All jokes have a sliver of truth to them, Roboute.”  
Roboute: “Doesn’t mean I don’t take offense to that. Also, you’re lying there.”  
Konrad: “ **_I was more surprised than you_ **\- yeah, whatever.”

Horus’ gaze whipped straight at where Aegidius was standing. When the boy noticed that he was under the Primarchs scrutiny he blushed lightly before turning his head to the side and showing him one of his ears.

Horus blinked many times as his mind processed this. “I uh… wow, that is… possible.”

“ **Surprisingly, yes. It’s all due to something called the ‘Treaty of Eden’, where Aeldari and Humanity decided for the best of their own species, a non aggression pact would be needed. One of the stipulations of the treaty was a marriage between two representatives of each race. An age old tradition, really. I believe this happened a couple years before I died on the throne and the Imperium we know now came to be. Any more questions?** ”

Malcador: “Exposition...”  
Emperor: “I can sing the song if you want.”  
Malcador: “No, no. No need to subject everyone to that.”  
Emperor: “I take offense to that.”

Aegidius looked at the Emperor, confusion evident on his face. “Wait, Grandfather, weren’t you supposed to be asking the questions here?” He thought this was an interrogation...

The Emperor slowly reached up with a hand and rubbed the golden globes which served as his wraith’s eyes.

“ **Horus. I only have one more question.** ”

Horus looked up slowly. The Emperor's tone sounded… different. Even… sad.

The wraith turned toward him again.

“ **Why?** ”

It was the simplest of questions, whose answer could only be more difficult.

“I… I never wanted to…”

The Primarchs: “Wha...what?”

Horus’ mind went back. Back to a greater, easier time. A time of happiness and unity… the times of the Great Crusade… the Triumph of Ullanor…

_“I now proclaim, Horus Lupercal, Primarch of the XVIth legion, Warmaster of the Imperium! Follow his orders as if they would be my own, obey his commands as if they are fate, and look to him as an example!”_

Warmaster… the title which caught the attention of **them**.

 _Them_. Those so called gods. The tumors upon the whole of reality. The very thought of them disgusted him even now as he saw them for the only thing they were in his eyes. A cancer. A cancer to be cut out and thrown away.

But that is not how we saw them then…

Twelve thousand years ago he saw them as helpers. Guides that would help him bring unity to the stars.

Lorgar: “Oh no…”  
Magnus: “Tricked…”  
Mortarion: “Just like the rest of us.”  
Malcador: “I feel so hopeless.”

He followed them even as they began to whisper to him about his father's “treachery.”

He followed them even as he manipulated the entire Great Crusade in order to prepare for a rebellion.

He followed them even as he poisoned the minds of his brothers and turned them against the Emperor.

He followed them even as he slaughtered his own kin and nephews.

He followed them as he committed treachery upon treachery on the Imperium he so carefully helped to build.

And he followed them even as he slew his father…

And he lived just long enough to hear their laughter through his tears even as he had truly realized what he had just done…

He didn’t have to speak.

He knew then that the Emperor had heard every single thought.

But he did so anyway.

“I was deceived…”

Horus: “I…”  
Vulkan: “No need to speak brother… we understand.”

Those three words held more weight then anyone could possibly imagine. Aegidius could feel the sadness and horror roll off of them.

Emperor: “You never betrayed me consciously… that is why future me spared you.”  
Horus: “I…"  
Magnus: “It was not your fault Horus.”

The Emperor for his part appeared to be… sad. His wraith was frowning even as inside of his shared souls, Aegidius felt his emotions roll off of him in waves. Suddenly, the restraints of the chair popped off one by one. Flying in all directions as the Emperor’s wraith floated by the chair.

“ **Horus**.”

The Emperor’s wraith outstretched a hand and offered it to the Primarch.

For a moment, Horus hesitated. Was it a trap? A test of some kind?

Then he decided that he did not care.

As he took the wraith’s hand it changed color. From a wispy warp like material it actually solidified and imagined skin and fabric became _real_. With surprising strength Horus was pulled up from the chair and before he knew it, he was standing before his Father, the man looking equal to the same one which had met him upon Cthonia.

Magnus: “What!?”  
Emperor: “How!?”  
Malcador: “Revelation-”  
Emperor: “I don’t know how!”

“Father.”

He spoke slowly, his voice cracking even as he reached up with his arms and gingerly attempted to feel more of the wraith than just a hand, but falling straight through the wraiths body.

“ **Welcome home… son.** ”

A tear then slid down one of Horus’ cheeks as he realized something.

His father had forgiven him.

He had gotten a second chance…

Horus: “I…”  
Fulgrim: “Hush brother, we all understand.”  
Konrad: “Stop trying, no need to blab pointlessly. Good manipulation there, it’s almost as if you have a heart here.”  
Emperor: “...”

“Father…”

Horus: “I…”

*Horus felt as a hand was put on his shoulder and looked left to see Sanguinius.*

Sanguinius: “It was never your fault brother.”

He spoke again, his voice full of emotion.

“ **I must… rest now… I have… much to ponder over.** ”

The wraith’s voice sounded… weaker even as it slowly wisped away into nothingness.

Magnus: “That answered the earlier question on how long you could last.”  
Emperor: “I am surprised as you are. This shouldn’t be possible in the first place…”

“Father?!” Horus barked out in confusion, turning to Aegidius. “Where did he go?!” He demanded even as Aegidius lifted his hands in a defensive motion.

“He just went quiet. He is ok… I-I think?”

Horus blinked once. “You think?”

“I uh-yeah he never really went this quiet before.”

Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of the door opening and they both looked to see Bjorn walking back in.

“Bjorn?! When did you walk out?” Asked Horus even as the Dreadnought stomped up to him.

“Yer three were so deep in conversation that none of yer saw me walk out. I went to get this.”

Leman: “Fair enough, I suppose.”

Bjorn’s thunder clawed hand swung up to reveal a Space Wolf helmet on the tip of one of the claws.

“When I saw where the conversation was headed I went to get one. Seein’ as the others won’t be so forgivin’.”

Horus smiled and reached out for the helmet. Only for him to be pulled much closer to Bjorn’s viewport by the Dreadnought’s other arm.

“I see one teny tiny bit of yer going traitor, and I'll chop yer head off like a melon, yer understand?” Bjorns voice was surprisingly quiet, but it carried every bit the threat it needed to.

Horus: “I would expect nothing less.”  
Leman: “Even if you are a clone Primarch in there, Bjorn does have the experience of ten millennia. He should be able to keep ye in line.”  
Horus: “But this brings up another line of thought… How the rest of you are going to react to me being alive.”  
Roboute: “Probably try to kill you.”  
Horus: “No, no. Please, answer that faster. I think you can get you point across better if you do it faster.”  
Roboute: “Just being honest. Future me would try to kill you.”  
Rogal: “I agree.”  
Mortarion: “My future self escaped from Chaos, so yeah… He’d try to kill you.”  
Leman: “I think all of them would try to kill you.”  
Horus: “And I don’t really blame them.”

Horus slowly nodded even as he took the helmet and stepped away.

“Good. Now, we have bigger fish to fry.” Said Bjorn again even as he started walking out the door.

“Lord Bjorn! Where are you going?” Yelled Aegidius after the retreating Dreadnought.

“The bridge.” Came back a booming reply. “We got the Black Legion to deal with after all.”

Horus and Aegidius looked at each other. Both nodded once even as Horus put on the helmet and they ran off after Bjorn.

**…  
** **???.M42 - Somewhere in the Warp** **_, The Rock  
_ ** **…**

Sanguinius: “An-”  
Malcador: “If you even breathe that sentence, I will personally throw you out of a window, Sanguinius. Just like Horus did to that Ork Warboss on Ullanor.”  
Sanguinius: “...y one getting hungry? This has been going on for a while now.”  
Emperor: “Nice save.”

Peculiar thing about the Warp. You never really knew how long you have spent there and time never has any meaning. Usually that would be quite a fascinating thing to study, but at the moment?

Gabriel thought that the Warp was an overrated pile of grox-shite. It felt as if the combined forces of Dark Angels and the Fallen with their two leaders were fighting an endless horde for… **_Great_ **, he hadn’t a clue anymore. It felt as if they were on the defensive for hours, but it must have been longer than that.

He continued to ponder, quite angrily to himself if he might have added on, as he slew through the countless daemons that threw themselves into the proverbial meat grinder. No, definitely not hours, if it was, he wouldn’t be feeling this kind of fatigue. When was the last time he went this long in a fight-?

Nearby, Lion unknowingly glanced towards his failure of a son, seeing that glassy look in his eyes as Gabriel was lost in a memory that randomly decided to invade his consciousness. He frowned and smacked the young man behind the head with the flat part of his sword, shocking Gabriel from his reverie.

“What- What happened? Oh, yes. Daemons.” Gabriel grumbled as he chopped through yet another Bloodletter. “Have I mentioned how I can not wait to get back to killing you?”

“Stop being over dramatic. And that is _attempting_ to kill me. Your attempts so far have been… less than impressive.”

Roboute: “You know, for hating every single bit of each other's existence. They are without a doubt, father and son.”

“Not my fault that my psyche is more fractured than the Imperium has been for the last ten-thousand years. All thanks to a certain _someone_!” Gabriel shot back, parrying a Bloodletter and with a quick whirl, reducing it to sliced mush.

In a dark corner, Cypher was once again watching the duo, desperately avoiding the assaulting daemons while trying to get closer. He had been trying ever since _the Rock_ and surrounding fleet had been flung into the Warp by the anomaly, but anytime he got close he was thrown off by either the Daemons or the Demi-gods themselves.

But now he saw his chance. The two were fighting almost back to back. This was the moment! Sure, they were bickering like two jealous old women, but it was the best shot he would get.

Grasping the massive sword on his back, he unclasped it for the first time in millennia, hoisted the majestic weapon and flung it at the two Demi-gods.

Ferrus: “Moment of truth!”  
Fulgrim: “The unsheathing of the blade.”  
Konrad: “One-hundred Thrones on it going wrong.”  
Emperor: “I am with Konrad on this one.”  
Magnus: “Oh come on, be a bit more positive! They aren’t actively trying to kill each other anymore at least! They are bonding! What can possibly-”

Only for the two to see it as a threat and bat it away harmlessly where it proceeded to fly at a nearby viewport, the weapons massive weight and accumulated psychic energy shearing clear through and sending the Lion sword plunging into the warp.

*Ferrus instantly began raging in an untranslatable binary even as most of the Primarchs felt the shock of their lives.*

Horus: “Well… might as well…”  
Sanginius: “Might as well what?”  
Horus: “Like fucking father… like fucking son.”  
Roboute: “Both at times dafter than a bag of rockcrete.”  
Malcador: “Coming from you just makes that better.”

Cypher felt his entire body temperature drop in horror even as he felt every single bit of hope he had left fly away. All of these millenni, all this time, all this planning-

Were for _nothing!?_

After having dealt with the collective seizure that was the history of the Dark Angels and their stupidity, the unabashedly backwards workings of the legion- because that is what it was and not chapters- having to have dealt with the worst secret of a legion in all this time, all of it had been for **nothing**! Cypher couldn’t hold it back anymore, the Lion Sword, a relic of such incredible power and might, batted away through a viewport of all things!

Cypher had been about to fight his way to the two demi- _idiots_ and tell them what they just did, but was stopped.

He felt as the entirety of _the_ _Rock_ shuddered.

What was happening now!?

The daemons slowly started disappearing even as an announcement came over the Vox. “We have transitioned back to the materium! My Primarch, we require your presence on the bridge!”

Both Lion and Gabriel stepped toward the grand stairway leading to the bridge at the same time. When they realized this they looked at each other, both realizing the absolutely _horrible_ state of their armour and weapons as for a split second their eyes connected.

“Truce until we secure _the Rock_.” Spoke Lion.

“Agreed.” Quickly said Gabe, even as the two ran toward the bridge.

Jaghatai: “Impeccable logic on display.”  
Corvus: “The best.”  
Ferrus: “The very best.”  
Emperor: “Like no one ever was.”  
Malcador: “Stop it.”  
Horus: “What?”  
Malcador: “Something that shall not be named. You had to be there to understand.”

Once they arrived, the bridge was a scene of pure chaos. Everywhere around them, the entire bridge appeared to have been heavily damaged in the battle. Control panels and cogitators smoked and sparked, there were cracks in the main viewports, masonry was lying everywhere and wires were poking out of every panel. All completed with a fine layer of daemon blood and guts stuck to nearly everything.

“My Lord!” Greeted the lead Captain of _the Rock_ as he approached his Primarch.

“What is it you need, Captain?” Asked Lion in his normal commanding tone even as the Captain turned back toward the viewport. He had a duel to get back to and this was getting in the way of that.

“Not so much need anything, my Lord, as to simply report to you.”

Both the Lion and Gabriel quirked an eyebrow. Neither knew just how perfectly clone-like they looked like at that moment.

“And what is that, Captain?”

The Captain turned back toward Lion, behind him the bridge crew were running around erratically. Both Fallen and Dark Angel Techmarines alike desperately attempting to repair the damaged systems.

Malcador: “You know a situation is bad if two former hatebound enemies are working together to fix the situation.”  
Jaghatai: “Especially if they were trying to kill each other just hours ago.”  
Lorgar: “Isn’t mutual impending doom such great bonding time?”

“We have transitioned directly above Macragge!” The Captain’s voice sounded _incredibly_ full of anxiety at that moment.

Roboute: *Gets an extremely far away look, possibly develops PTSD* ...no...

“And that is a bad thing because?” Slowly asked Gabriel, trying hard to force his mind to be in the present and not eternally flitting to the past.

The Captain turned toward him, not knowing what to make of him, but still answering.

“The Warp anomaly threw us completely off course! We came in far too close! We are locked in the planet's gravitational pull! To make matters worse the enginorium has been heavily damaged in the fight and the control systems are almost completely destroyed!”

Roboute: “ **No.** ”

The Captain whirled around and looked toward one of the Techmarines who was desperately soldering together some wires. Their gazes met and the Techmarine slowly shook his head.

“We cannot stop our descent! Our void shields are up but…”

“But what Captain?” Spoke Lion, an impatient tone evident in his voice.

Roboute: “ **Don’t you** **_dare_ ** **-** ”

The Captain looked his Primarch directly in his eyes as he spoke. A small amount of what was perhaps fear, now evident in his voice. And suddenly, father and son alike were able to agree on something else for the first time ever, that didn’t have to do with the death of each other. The Captain didn’t need to say his next words, they both could tell what was about to happen, but they needed to hear it.

“We are on a direct collision course with Macragge my Lord… and there is nothing that can stop us.”

Roboute: *Instantly rips apart his screaming pillow and gets up, sharply marching straight to the nearby wall*  
Horus: “Ehhh, Roboute, are you o-”  
Roboute: *Proceeds to walk cleanly through the wall*  
Horus: “I will take that as a no.”  
Magnus: “Is Macragge seriously going to be-”  
Emperor: “Demolished by a massive chunk of a planet? Yes, the chances are _very_ high.”  
Roboute: *Scenes of pure rage coming from the de-stressing room*

**…  
** **Present time, On board the** **_Ardent Will  
_ ** **…**

As Aeigidius, Horus and Bjorn began walking back to the bridge, Horus slipped on the Space Wolf helmet which Bjorn had given him.

“Ugh! Oh by the throne! This helmet smells of vomit and Space Wolf liquor!”

Magnus: “Do they all smell like that?”  
Leman: “Sometimes. You get used to it.”

Horus complained even as what sounded suspiciously like a chuckle came from Bjorn.

“Bjorn... I swear I'm going to …” Started Horus even as his complaints dissolved to grumbles.

Aegidius smiled lightly even as he thought about what had just happened. His grandfather had managed to become part _corporeal_. If only for a moment, but if he was hiding that from him, then what else was he not telling him about? What else was he capable of?

Well, there would be no answer from him there, even if he could ask him that is. Ever since he had forgiven Horus he had gone strangely quiet to the point that Aegidius felt as if he wasn’t even watching his actions at that moment. Something he hadn’t felt since his grandfather had first revealed himself to him…

Corvus: “This is going to be the first time the child won’t have Father with him in… years. Well, he’s there, just…”  
Konrad: “Asleep.”  
Emperor: “As much as I want to disagree with that sentence… it’s true.”

His thoughts were cut as the trio reached the massive doors leading to the bridge of the _Ardent Will_.

As they entered they noticed Lord Admiral Spire sitting at the war table which was projecting the current layout of their forces even as he was surrounded on all sides by various Captains and other Admirals. They were all in such a heated debate that they did not notice the trio approach until Spire himself turned his head to face Aegidius.

“My Prince.” He greeted politely, demonstrating to the others the meaning of the man standing before them even as two Custodes came up to stand by Aegidius’ side.

All of the present Captains and Admirals turned and slightly bowed their heads even as they murmured various greetings.

“Where uh… where are we with the battle plans?” Aegidius had to stop himself from deferring to them, remembering the countless lessons that both Yarrick and his Father had given him on how to actually be a commanding presence. Do not ask, command.

One of the Admirals stepped to the table and pressed a few runes which made the holoprojection of the fleet zoom out.

“As you can see my Prince, we have moved the fleet into a defensive position. We are currently holding all of the defensive monitors in the system along with the weapons platforms in reserve, should the enemy simply try to break through.”

Aegidius slowly nodded along even as his eyes looked over the fleets positioning, and then he noticed something…

“That, the groups of Cobra Class Squadrons. Why are they positioned at the bottom of the fleet?” He asked, genuine interest in his voice even as the Admiral stepped forward again.

“My Prince, we are presuming the traitors will come in from the bottom of the navigational paths. This way, our squadrons are in position to engage them as quickly as possible.”

Aegidius nooded, his mind racing as he thought through the countless war scenarios he had read through and seen.

“No.” He said.

Sanguinius: “Uh oh…”  
Leman: “‘Ere we go again…”  
Roboute: “Wait!” *Walking back through the hole in the wall he had made, not caring for the glares that two certain brothers were giving him* “He has a point!”  
Every single other person in the room: “What!?”  
Roboute: “Just watch! He has a genuine, good, point!”

“No, my Prince?” Asked the Admiral back in surprise.

“No. We cannot position them below the fleet. While your reasoning is uh… sound Admiral it lacks… uh… future thought.”

The Admiral and collective Captains blinked once.

Jaghatai: “That point certainly isn’t in his oratory skills.”  
Roboute: “Hush and wait brother!”

“Future thought, my liege?” Asked one of the Admirals.

“Uh well… uh… yeah! I mean look, we have them coming in on the front yes, but we are thinking that they are going to be coming through the standard navigational pathways, but according to uh…”

Aegidius looked toward Horus in his scrap like armour and Space Wolf helmet. Begging with his eyes for the Primarch to help him.

“Eye of the Emperor.” Spoke Horus in his booming voice even as most of the people present seemed to relax slightly. A retired Custodes would explain many things about the mysterious individual that accompanied their liege.

“Who has uh… been in the traitors ranks.” Said Aegidius, happy that he now had a reason for all of the knowledge that the Emperor pried directly from Horus’ head.

Horus: “And que the panicking in-”  
Magnus: “-three-”  
Konrad: “-two-”  
Roboute: “Ugh… one.”

“Been in the traitors ranks?!” Exclaimed one of the Admirals.

“Are we sure we can trust him?” Said another even as the command staff began to argue.

Spire appeared to be getting ready to quiet them down, but he was beaten to the point when one of the Custodes besides Gidius slammed the floor with the butt end of his Guardian-spear, causing all of the arguing personnel to stop and look at the transhuman.

“Do you dare doubt the words of my brother? The word of one of the Emperors' very own eyes?”

The tone and threat in the Custodians voice was audible to everyone present. To doubt an eye of the Emperor, was almost equal to doubting the Emperor himself.

As the Admirals and Captains quieted down, Aegidius continued.

“But um… yeah… the space beyond our borders is… bad… warp storms, anomalies, pirates and everything else! So how can we expect them to come from the normal navigational routes?”

The Captains and Admirals talked between each other in quiet murmurs of agreement even as Gill looked toward Spire, the old Lord Admiral had the tiniest trace of a smile on his face.

_Wait… was he testing me?_

Emperor: “Of course he would.”  
Roboute: “And look! He was able to do this on his own without having you hovering over him.”  
Emperor: “Try telling that to future me.”

“I uh… I’m not done.” He said as he managed to get the Admirals and Captains attention again.

“So uh… with them being in a bad position, we should put them where they would be useful. On top of the fleet! That way they can engage any incoming ships with ease!”

The Admirals and Captains once again murmured to each other with agreement even as Spire’s smile appeared to grow ever so slightly.

Roboute: “See! He came through!”  
Rogal: “After almost sowing chaos across an entire battlefleet.”

“You are correct my liege, we shall issue the movement orders immediately.” Answered one of the Admirals even as he bellowed a command toward the Vox officer nearby.

Horus was glad his helmet was on, so no one could see the pure pain on his face from that entire exchange. It was clear that the kid inherited absolutely none of his brother’s logistical mind or his natural skills in oration. 

His thoughts were stopped as he noticed the old Lord Admiral standing up with the help of his cane.

“My lords, we have planned well. Our ships are properly positioned to defend against any type of assault. However, we must accept the fact that we can only hold against them for so long. We can only hope to defend against a preliminary attack, and even then we can expect the casualties to be high.”

Spire’s words brought a sobering note to Horus’ mind even as he continued speaking.

“Our hymnals will take too long to reach any friendly forces. Far too long for them to help us during the Preliminary assault.”

Spire turned and looked up at all of the Captains and Admirals.

“Any more suggestions my Lords?”

Horus stepped forward slightly and was about to speak, when suddenly...

“Lord Admiral!” Came a cry from the Master of the Sensorium.

“What is it?” Said Spire as he turned toward the man looking at them with obvious fear in his eyes.

“The Black Fleet has transitioned in the system!”

Malcador: “Time’s up.”  
Emperor: “We can only hope this won’t end too badly.”

The collection of Captains and Admirals followed Spire as he quickly limped his way to the main viewport of the bridge.

What they saw outside caught the breath of every single one of them.

Ships of all sizes were present in the enemies ranks. Everything from escorts to even a Despoiler-class battleship.

“Sir, sensors confirm the Battleship at the lead to be the _Damnation’s Fury_. Followed by… almost two dozen cruisers and countless escorts.”

Spire turned toward the Captains and Admirals.

“My Lords, it appears that we are out of time. Return to your ships, may the Emperor guide your guns, and may these heretics feel his wrath.”

Spire turned toward his own bridge crew even as the Captains and Admirals rushed off.

“All hands, battlestations.”

The Crew immediately sprung into life even as all of the regular lights aboard the _Ardent Will_ turned off and were replace with their red glowing counterparts, armoured panels began to slide into place and the ships gunners were being plugged into their various ports even as a call went out over the entire ships Vox.

"Battlestations, Battlestations! All hands man your posts! The route of travel is forward and up to starboard, down and aft to port. Set material condition ‘Bellum’ throughout the ship! The Black Fleet has transitioned in the system!”

The announcement was followed by an ominous sounding klaxon even as Aegidius realized something.

_I am going to be in a battle… one where the odds are against us and we are fighting traitor astartes… My own grandfather isn’t responding and I’m helpless inside of a ship..._

He took a deep breath, slowly inhaling and exhaling even as he glanced at the approaching Black Fleet through the main viewport, only one thought crossing his mind.

“ **_Fuck_ **.”

The vid finally ended, leaving the viewing family in shock that it would end at such a high tension moment where anything could happen next.

“Well then.” The Emperor chirped, leaning back in his throne. “I assume everyone wants to watch the next one?”

“Yes I do!” Roboute called out, worry etched on his patrician features. “I can’t wait and imagine the trouble Aegidius is going to get into! I need to know what happens next! Not to mention that _the Rock_ is falling towards Macragge.”

“I believe my future self will have a plan to enact in just such a case.” Rogal nodded, he knew he would do so in the future. It was, after all, himself. And he knew himself better than anyone else.

“But what about the Black Legion?” Horus questioned. “Why are they chasing a clone me? Apparently I went on an adventure through the Warp and I am a clone with a soul and complete memories somehow. But more importantly, how many are there? And what is going to happen to the Imperium Secundus?”

“I believe…” Malcador spoke up, tapping a finger against his dataslate. “That all will be revealed in the next vid?”

They couldn’t argue with that logic.

...


	22. Reprive and Reprisal

**...**

**001.M31 - Terra - The Imperial Palace**

**...**

Luther walked through the Palace, his vigorous stride given meaning by his destination.

It was the first time he had ever been to the Throneworld, and thus, the very size and scale of the Imperial Palace itself had made his task that much more difficult.

Somewhere, in this continent sized building, were Lord Gabriel and Lady Selena.

Thankfully, for now, the Custodes leading him to them had proven quite competent, guiding him through countless corridors and chambers, past countless servants who wished him a happy Terran new year, only for him to begrudgingly return it.

If he were a lesser man, he wouldn’t have bothered, however the mannerism drilled into him by centuries of service had forced him to be polite.

Quite clearly, the lessons of his childhood had stuck, it was a shame the same could not be said about his adopted son.

Whatever had driven the Lion to do the horrors he did, Luther swore to find out, after he made sure that his extended family was safely in his care and they could get under way for the Emperor’s new retreat in the Badab Sector, on whatever planet they had settled.

However, that in itself raised more questions then answered them.

Why had the Emperor retreated to that world? Why had he left orders for Luther to take care of Lord Gabriel and Lady Selena? Where was the Lion to not be able to command the Legion?

Those were but a few of the many questions which ran through his head as the Custodes finally came to a stop at the beginning of a hallway at the top of the Palace, the Hallway revealing massive double doors lining both sides.

“They are in here, I leave them to your care.” The Custodes informed him, before turning on his heels and walking off.

Luther took it, like everything else thus far, in stride.

This task was his and his alone. He intentionally had neglected to bring an escort of Dark Angels, knowing that the child and woman would likely not appreciate the sight.

He took a deep breath, walked up to the massive door, and knocked.

“Come in!” The response was nearly instant, as Luther grabbed ahold of the massive door handles and pushed the doors open.

Inside, he heard the sound of a laughing boy followed by the encouraging voice of a woman. He could see the two of them in the middle of some sort of game, one where the boy was balancing a number of small objects on his head, his mother gently adding more, the two giggling at the action.

Any doubts that lingered in his mind melted away when he saw the clear resemblance in the child, reminding Luther of the day he had found his adoptive son in the forest all those years ago. Younger than Lion was at the time, but certainly appearing as if he had been in that same forest. 

The boy had no fat on his body, every contour was exposed and each muscle was clearly defined, like a stringy, gamey animal. But those large brown eyes still held that child like innocence, something that Lion did not possess that first encounter.

The woman was nearly the same as the boy, cheeks slightly sunken in, dark rings still under her eyes, hair slightly lank, yet she had a rosy tint returning to her features. 

However, her features reminded him of someone he had known, though the name escaped his mind.

Instantly, the magic of the encounter wore off when the boy glanced in his direction for a split second. The next second was Luther batting away the thrown objects that once were balancing on his head. When Luther looked next, the boy was crouched in front of his now silent mother, teeth bared and audibly growling at Luther with the same viciousness that Lion once had at that age.

The two stared at Luther, the silence and tension palpable as the Lord thought of how to approach the situation at hand.

“Peace child.” He slowly raised both hands, quite aware that his augmented size and stature along with regal uniform would obviously present him as a target in the child’s eyes. “I mean neither of you harm. I am Lord Luther, acting Legion Master of the Dark Angels first Space Marine Legion.”

Gabriel continued to crouch in front of his mother, still growling at Luther as menacingly as the boy could.

The mother went pale at the mention of his station. She gulped, hands clenching at the front of her dress, unable to get up from the stool which she sat upon. “W-why are y-you here.” She asked in a small, soft voice.

“I have been given my orders by the Emperor himself.” Luther explained. “I am to make sure you remain under my protection, in comfort and safety as I escort you to the Emperor and the rest of the Royal Family to the world which they had retreated to. I give you my word that I shall not behave like my son has.”

Luther watched as the emotions flitted through her, wildly jumping from one to the other and back.

After a minute of silence, Selena spoke up. “You are… Lion’s father?” She rested a hand on Gabriel’s head, making the boy finally sit down. Much like a guard canid, yet still baring his teeth at Luther.

“Adoptive father.” He clarified. “One who had apparently failed to instill enough proper mannerisms within him. My sincerest apologies for his actions, I swear that when the time is right, I shall ensure a proper investigation for the reasoning behind his actions shall be launched.”

“H-how do I know you do not lie? How do I know that we can trust you?” Selena challenged him, even while she trembled before the much larger man.

Luckily for Luther, he had thought something like this might happen. Leave it to his son to pick a Lady who had the wits to match her beauty.

He reached inside of his robes and pulled out the message, stamped and once sealed with the personal sigil of Malcador the Sigillite. “Here are my orders.” He extended the letter in her direction. “Sealed by the hand of the Imperial Regent himself.”

The Lady watched him as she took the message gingerly, eyes only leaving him as she looked over it. The sigil was there, the orders matched with what he said… As she recalled, however, when was the last time that sanctioned orders ever did anything beneficial to them?

“It was a sanctioned order from my husband to place me under quarantine, a sanctioned order from him to throw Gabriel into that forest. Tell me, why should this be any different? What proof can you show me that this order is not yet another concealed dagger waiting to stab us once more?” What if… they took Gabriel yet again? What if she was taken and kept alone again? The orders only spoke about collecting them, but what else awaited them? She was not about to be made the fool yet again!

“Those were the orders my son gave to his gene-sons. Not the personal orders of the Emperor. My vows are of ancient Caliban, to the Order itself. I would never defy my oath. You are Lady El’Jonson, and he is the future Lord El’Jonson, Heir apparent to the Legion itself.” He straightened himself. “I would never act in such a disgusting manner, my Lady.”

Shock was painted on her face, hand placed over her heart as she attempted to keep herself standing. Never had one of the legion shown such deference to her, to invoke the oath.

She glanced at her son, still sitting and growling at the man. Her son would benefit from a safe and stable environment, she had so much to teach him, starting from walking like a human did, getting him out of his nonverbal state… She wondered if  _ his _ family would be beneficial to Gabriel…

“As you say, then. We shall follow you, but know this: I follow you so Gabriel will have the chance to be somewhere safe and stable, not because I trust you or the legion.” She doubted she ever would.

Luther bowed his head.

“As my Lady wills.”

**  
** **...**

**Back on Salutis**

**...**

Leman decided that if the family were going to watch another vid in the same sitting after the massive cliffhanger that happened last time, they needed drinks. The Wolf King had left and came back with plenty of drinks for the family, his choice of Mjod already with him. Roboute quickly took one of the tankards and downed some, only to spit it back out immediately thereafter.

“Oi! That stuff doesn't grow on trees brother!” Leman’s comment didn’t at all help Roboutes coughing fit, all it did was make Roboute glare at Leman.

“What-what did you do to this?!” He finally managed to cough out, trying to get the foul tasting sludge from his mouth.

“Me? Oh I did nothin’, the World Eaters however have been having some downtime and have gotten into some of our reserves. Apparently they found a way to ferment the stuff.”

Roboute looked down at the tankard, “Are you telling me that the World Eaters  _ somehow _ made a worse brew than you did?”

Leman scowled at that. “What ya mean by worse!? All they did was make it stronger! All of yer just can’t handle a drink, now can ye?”

“He means that it is more foul tasting brother. Though how that is possible I am not sure.” Rogal piped up, barely gazing towards Leman and still looking relaxed.

Leman now whirled on Rogal. “Don’t you dare call this foul tastin’ when ya drink that foul stuff that ye’ dare call Inwitian Whiskey!”

Rogal’s eyes narrowed on Leman, “That is not the same context.”

“Wot?”

“One is distilled over a longer period, fortifying the drink to its peak potential, then flavored to fortify its flavors over a period of years in specially selected barrels.”

“And mjod isn’t?”

“Not if it tastes like an unwashed concubine.” Rogal shot back, as monotone as ever.

Leman let out a laugh, “Still surprised you know what that tastes like!”

Rogal only raised a brow, staring impassively. “As I’ve stated before, foreplay is an important part of-”

“No! Enough, please!” Shouted the Emperor from his throne, a very pinkish hue beginning to form on his face. “Boys please, can we not talk about this?”

“I… think we have heard enough sexual innuendos for one session brother.” Horus warily spoke to Rogal, who turned back to face Horus.

“I suppose you would know, brother.” 

Malcador sighed and shook his head, “And here I sit, learning more about all of you than I ever wanted to know.”

“How about we just get into the next vid?” Calmly suggested Magnus, wanting to get off the subject of his brother’s sexual exploits. Hiding his face with a hand, not looking up at his brothers and just wanting this to end.

“Yes please.” Said Roboute too quickly as he took his seat.

“Fine, I suppose. Magos.” The Emperor commanded and the projector turned on.

**…**

**209.M42 - Macragge - _Orbital monitoring station 246 - Alpha section_**

**…**

“2-1-7 to 2-4-6, respond over.”

The Head-monitor of the 2-4-6 monitoring station leaned over and picked up the Vox-hailer.

“2-1-7, this is 2-4-6, send traffic over.”

“We uh… have several-ney multiple dozens of unknown signatures approaching us through Warp space.”

Emperor: “Ah. There we go. Straight into it, I suppose.”  
Roboute: “Of course. Can’t have us all ease into the action, can we?”  
Fulgrim: “I’d say this is easing into the vid.”  
Roboute: “It’s more of we just turned it back on and already we get this.”

The man frowned and leaned in closer to look at the Augur array monitors.

“Uh- that’s a negative, over.”

In the background of 2-1-7 station the man heard some other chatter.

“Somebody get me some Tech-priests to check the scopes and for any solar interference, and send a petition to the Astropaths… we uh-might need to check this out.”

The man heard the lead of 2-1-7 station groan a bit more, then he heard a beep.

And another.

And then another.

Horus: *Sighs* “And here we go.”  
Leman: “Never really gets any easier, does it?”  
Horus: “No, not really sadly.”  
Roboute: *Already getting incredibly nervous*

He quickly looked down at his Augur screen even as he took another sip of his recaff.

Which he promptly spat out even as he went flying out of his chair.

He quickly smashed the Vox send rune.

“This is 2-4-6 I have dozens of unknown signatures inbound right now!”

Over the course of the next minute, more and more stations tuned in with their own reports. It only escalated until a massive warp tear appeared and out came _all_ of the reported signatures.

The Man quickly leaned back into his Vox and tuned it for the Fortress of Hera.

“This is 2-4-6! An unknown, presumably hostile enemy fleet has transitioned right on top of us! Transmitting half friendly, half unknown signatures! They are on a direct collision course with-”

The Man’s eyes flew open as he looked out of the nearest viewport and saw the massive form of what appeared to be an asteroid flying straight for him.

He didn’t even have time to think of his next words as he was completely obliterated.

Roboute: “...lovely.”  
Leman: “Amazing…”

**…**

**209.M42 - Above Macragge - _The Rock_**

**…**

Sangunius: “Ah, so we get to see what happens with Lion and the rest of the Dark Angels!”  
Malcador: “Last time, you were nearly spitting acid from how angry you were with the cliffhangers.”  
Sanguinius: *Blushes* “I… I didn’t mean to…”  
Emperor: “Don’t worry, my son. Everyone gets angry and impatient, you know. Though…” *LookS at Roboute*  
Roboute: *Essentially chewing through the tankard that he is holding*  
Emperor: “Some people are just not able to handle that anxiety for cliffhangers as best as others…”  
Roboute: *Whirls his head around to face the Emperor, his eyes showing that he is the definition of being on the brink of a nervous breakdown* “Are you talking about me!?”  
Emperor: “No, no we’re not.”

“What-what do you mean nothing can stop us!?” Demanded Gabriel in a desperate tone.

“Just that my lord. Nothing can stop us!” Yelled back the Captain as he almost ran for a nearby malfunctioning screen. “We-we have approximately ten minutes before we break the atmosphere at our present speed, and then approximately another four before we touch down.” The Captain took a breather as he reached over and pressed a few runes in an attempt to get the screen working. The screen blinked a few times but finally turned on. “We still have our Void shields as I thought, that will keep us mostly safe but the planet… the planet-”

“What about it.” Asked Lion in a surprisingly calm tone.

“The planet… well I see this going right about two ways my Lord.” The Captain turned to face his Primarch. “Either we somehow manage to regain some control and slow our descent enough to cause heavy tremors all across the planet and destroy whatever we land on… or...”

“Or what!?” Commanded the Lion, bringing the Captain out of his stupor.

The Captain slowly looked the Lion into his eyes and spoke. “Or we snap the planet clean in half as we cleave through it as if it’s not there at all...”

Roboute: *Snaps tankard clean in half with his teeth* ***internally screaming*  
** Perturabo: *Turns to Rogal* “...so can your fortifications stop a mobile Fortress Monastery from cracking an entire planet in half from the force?”  
Rogal: “Possibly. I give it a 74% chance.”  
Roboute: “Of what!?”  
Rogal: “Failu-”  
Roboute: * **Louder internal screaming** *

All around the three, Techmarines, Dark Angel and Fallen alike, began working together at an efficient pace. Whether this was out of the long lasting rivalry finally being settled or simply out of desperation born of this situation, none could tell at that moment, and frankly, none cared.

Neither faction wanted to see Macragge smashed into space dust.

“I have…” Began Gabriel. “I  _ most likely  _ have the parts necessary to fix the navigation system on board my ships, we can use those to repair the control systems.”

Lion looked to him, and for once, just for once, Gabriel didn’t see any disappointment in the eyes of his Father. “The Enginarium can never be repaired in our current state, we can however slow our descent with tow cables attached to various other sizable ships.”

“The Fallen-” Started Gabriel even as he winced at the name. “-have no large sized battleships, barely any battle-barges, it will not be enough.”

The Lion’s eyebrows furrowed together for a second, before he turned out of the viewport and looked around for a solution. After a few fateful seconds, the Son joined the Father as they both looked around, desperate for anything to slow their descent.

Then their eyes landed on the same target and they both raised their hands to point at it and spoke in unison.

“Contact that massive ship there, it is the  _ Phalanx _ .”

Rogal: “I have a few ideas on how to stop the impact from not causing the planet to shatter, however I am unsure if it would make a difference.”  
Roboute: “What do you mean by that?”  
Rogal: “The tremors alone from the planetoid landing could cause massive tectonic upheaval. Causing the entire planet to destroy itsel-”  
Emperor: “Ok Rogal thank you! Let us try not to murder poor Roboute with worry.”  
Konrad: “Too late, I think. We broke him already.”  
Roboute: *Cradling his head with both hands, unable to look at the screen*

Gabriel and the Lion quickly looked at each other, surprised at the equality of their solution. Then they both slowly nodded and quickly ran to different directions of the Rocks fleet, both intent on giving orders to their own gene-sons on what to do.

Honour of asking the Imperial Fists for help be damned, Macragge wouldn’t fall over a simple mistake, not here, not now.

**5 minute later… 4 minutes 48 seconds to atmospheric entry...**

The massive form of the  _ Phalanx  _ hovered over the Rock as it thundered toward the planet below. And a few seconds later, countless squads of Imperial Fist space marines, all wearing Jump Packs descended in front of the Rocks’s main bridge viewport. All descending on their own cables but each tugging one massive towing cable per squad, each as thick as a thunderhawk.

Quickly attaching them to various strong points of the Rock by the guiding help of the Dark Angel and Fallen Techmarines, they welded and clamped the cabling to the strongpoints, before quickly being tugged back up to the  _ Phalanx  _ with the help of their own attached cables and Jump packs. The  _ Phalanx  _ at this point, already struggling to match the speed of the  _ Rock _ . 

But that didn’t stop one Imperial Fists from going to a nearby airlock and pounding on it until he was allowed in along with the rest of his accompanying squad of five Space Marines.

Rogal: “A wise strategy.”  
Perturabo: “Yeah yeah, but who is that Marine?”  
Horus: “Knowing Rogals sons, it is a stubborn officer who is going to figure out the situatio… wait, those Marines look familiar, that armour-”  
Konrad: “At least they had the decency to not bring the two baselines this time around.”

With speed the squad made his way to the  _ Rock’s  _ bridge. Entering, the leader immediately spotted the two Demi-gods standing by the main viewport even as all around them, Dark Angels and Fallen were scrambling to do various important tasks.

The two noticed him simultaneously and turned toward the plain power-armoured individual.

“Who are you?! We don’t have time for this, we will explain late-” Began Gabriel, only to be cut off by the Imperial Fist.

“I, am Friedrich Dorn.” He spoke, even as he reached up and removed his helmet. “My father wishes to know why you have come here. Quite violently, I might add. If you were coming for a visit, I don’t recommend driving this close to the planet. Things like this tend to happen. And if you visit the planet, I would not recommend this year's vintage, quite tasteless.”

Horus: “Called it!”  
Konrad: “It was his son, not an officer.”  
Horus: “Close enough.”  
Konrad: “Eh, fair point.”

The family then started to hear a sound, a sound they haven’t heard in so long, most forgot what it sounds like. But it came from one person, one person who all looked toward to see him barely holding back hysterical laughter.

Rogal: *Hands slapping the armrests of his throne, barely containing his laughter*  
Perturabo: *Confusion evident* “-What!? This is what makes you nearly die of laughter!? You do know the Rock is about to crash into Macragge, right!?”  
Roboute: “And that future you might be about to become space dust!”  
Rogal: *Bends forward, unable to hold back his laughter as his fully belly laughs fill the viewing room* “-I am unable to help it! I can’t-”

For a few precious seconds the two Demi-gods stared at who they realized was a part of their own family. In complete shock over Friedrich's humor. The face of Friedrich made him look uncomfortably like the Lion’s brother in his younger years.

“Rogal lives?” Spoke the Lion in a surprised tone.

“Yes. You have not answered my question, why have you come her-”

“A warp anomaly knocked us off course!” Quickly spoke Gabriel as Friedrich turned his gaze toward him.

“I am Gabrie-”

“Gabriel El’Jonson.” Cut in Friedrich even as he turned toward the Lion, calmly shaking Lion’s limp hand and doing the same to Gabriel. “You are Lion El’Jonson. He is your son, I am your nephew and he is my cousin. With me are Techmarine Solen, Chaplain Kirch-” A grunt. “Apothecary Oskar, Epistolary Widerholen, and my Colour Bearer, Sergeant Layner.” His calm and nonchalant voice cut through the chaos on the bridge like a power sword through un-armoured flesh even as he calmly strode toward the helmsman who was desperately attempting to steer the falling fortress monastery. “I have been ordered to direct the fortress toward the most fortified position on the planet with the help of my command squad. A minor issue.”

Rogal: *Completely red faced now, unable to stop himself from doubling over and completely losing his shit*  
Konrad: “What is even funny about this!?”  
Ferrus: “I am confused...”  
Jaghatai: “I am unable to find what could possibly be this funny to cause Rogal to nearly kill himself with laughter…”  
Emperor: *Snort of laughter*

*The family looked over to the Emperor, surprised to see him covering his mouth and desperately trying to hold back his laughter*

Magnus: “So that's where Rogal gets it from…”  
Lorgar: “To be honest, I am not even surprised.”

Gabriel walked closer to Friedrich. “While that is a very nice motion cousin, it is impossible for you to account for the myriad of factors in-”

“I have accounted for the Coriolis effect, the atmospheric pressure, resistance and all broken machinery along with the timing of your entry.” The son of Dorn’s voice caught the helmsman's attention, just as Friedrich had wanted it to. Friedrich looked down at the helmsman, directly into his eyes. “Adjust our course by forty-six degrees to the galactic north, tip our prowl by five degrees and increase void shields to max, let them soak our energy now lest there will be an explosion upon impact in the main capacitor banks.”

Both the Lion and Gabriel quickly realized that Friedrich was his father's son, and when the helmsman, a Dark Angel Techmarine, looked toward the duo, they both nodded in unison.

“Where will this land us?” Then asked Gabriel.

“In a cusp amongst Hera’s crown mountains.” Spoke Friedrich, his calm face and tone never changing even as he nodded and Techmarine Solen stepped forward, plugging himself in via his many Mechandendrites into the  _ Rock’s  _ systems, making the many minor necessary adjustments.

Magnus: “...by my calculations and the relative area of future impact…”  
Roboute: “-and the possibility of it being pulled off in just the right way with the added factor of a slower descent…”  
Ferrus: “It would actually have a higher chance of leaving less destruction if hit with less speed than they are at now.”  
Magnus: “So altogether, it would mean-”  
Roboute: “That my planet might not be cleaved in half!”  
Ferrus: “Correct. The mountains cushion the impact, and if done at the right speed, it won’t shatter and send pieces flying around and causing more, if not the same amount of damage as before. That, combined with them still having their void shielding will prevent most of the Rock from demolishing on impact.”

“My lords!” Shouted the Captain as he walked toward them. “We are entering the Atmosphere.”

“Contact the  _ Phalanx _ .” Ordered Friedrich. “Tell them to begin towing, one-houndred-percent power and downwards, lest the cabling rips out of the armoured plating.”

The Vox officer quickly scrambled to relay the order, and a few seconds later, the Rock shook under what felt like a gentle pull even as fire began spreading over the external viewport, oxygen touching the outside of the  _ Rock  _ for the first time in millennia.

“Four… no… five minutes to impact! We are slowing down!” Yelled the Captain from a newly repaired screen that told him of the  _ Rock's _ velocity.

“Tell the  _ Phalanx  _ to let us loose at fifty-percent power.” Ordered Friedrich.

“What?!” Thundered Gabriel as he stomped over to Friedrich. “That will make sure that-”

“The  _ Phalanx  _ survives cousin.” Interrupted Friedrich even as Gabriel felt a hand on his shoulder that slowly pulled him back and Kirch along with Widerholen stepped between the two Primechildren.

“Wh-what?” He asked again in disbelief as he turned to look at the Lion who was pulling him back. “Do you not even care for your own gene-sons?!” He screamed up at his Father who gave him a cold look.

“Cease your caterwauling. Your cousin is correct, if the  _ Phalanx  _ falls below fifty-percent engine power, it too will be lost, stuck in the atmosphere, and plummet toward Macragge. In the end, that will only cause more damage to Macragge and make all of our efforts for naught.”

Gabriel quickly looked toward Friedrich who was slowly nodding along. “I shall not allow my fathers regal daughter to fall along with us.”

Rogal: *Just now recovering* “He is correct. I appear to have taught him well.”  
Roboute: “If he can pull this off, then I’ll say so…”  
Rogal: “He can. I have the utmost faith in Friedrich.”

All of them now looked toward the viewport, it was glowing almost bright red from the heat of re-entry.

“We are in the atmosphere!” Shouted the helmsman as the Techmarines kept scrambling in a desperate attempt to fix any systems they could before impact, Solen humming pleasantly to himself before looking back at Friedrich and nodding.

“One minute.” Spoke Friedrich, knowing without even having to look at their velocity. “Contact the  _ Phalanx _ . Tell them to let us lose in twenty-three seconds and set engines to max output.”

The Vox officer quickly relayed his orders, and precisely twenty seconds later, the tow cables flew off of the Rock, and everyone aboard could feel as the  _ Phalanx’s  _ engines warmed up to full output as the giant of a ship just barely flew away and back to the safety of high-orbit.

Then they merely stood as the Rock thundered toward the quickly approaching mountains, the spread of Macragge Magnas Civitas slowly coming into view.

Friedrich, Gabriel and Lion, the rest of the Squad, along with all of the bridge crew turned on the magnetic soles of their power armoured sabatons and grabbed onto anything they could.

For one last time, Father and Son looked toward one another, the fires of vengeance still burning brightly in both of their eyes.

“Everyone! Hold on to anything you can!” Commanded the Captain for the last time through _the_ _Rock’s_ internal Vox systems even as it came down upon the Hera’s crown mountains with the force of a cyclonic torpedo.

Roboute: *Eyes as wide as bolter shells even as he hangs onto his throne so hard that he is almost breaking the delicate wood*

Rogal: “Brother.”  
Roboute: *glances at Rogal*  
Rogal: “...do not break your throne. It is of the highest quality of craftsmans-” *Is just barely able to dodge as the mentioned throne is thrown at him by Roboute* “...That was unnecessary.”  
Lorgar: *Whispering to Magnus* “I think Roboute might have lost his temper…”  
Roboute: *Snaps his head at Lorgar*  
Lorgar: “Oh… bad timing with that quote… but you did lose your-”  
Emperor: *Reaches over and smacks hand over his mouth* “I love you son, but let us try and not break Roboute.”  
Konrad: “How about we just watch instead?”  
Malcador: “Yes please, Sanguinius is already chewing on his wings from the cliffhanger.”

The occupants of _the_ _Rock_ were thrown about, being saved from flying off only by their mag-locked sabatons and by holding on to various items. 

Nonetheless, there were casualties even as the entirety of the fortress monastery was shook by an incomparable force, causing a dust cloud of enormous proportions to rise all across that part of Macragge's hemisphere, making all flying craft go crashing to the ground from the dust completely clogging their air-intakes even as a massive shockwave traveled out from their point of impact, being lessened to far less lethal levels by the mountain range and relatively slow speed of the impact.

But...

_The_ _Rock_ had stopped, more or less touching the mountain with what was comparable to a love tap than what would have happened without the assistance of the Imperial Fists.

Roboute: *Collapses onto the floor, now sitting even as he just puts his head into his hands and lets out an extremely long breath* “Thank you… Rogal.”  
Rogal: “Pleasure. It was Friedrich who was the one to save your planet, however I can take the compliment, as I have most likely taught him everything I know and have directly influenced his sharp mind and reflexes for such a feat. However, you now lack a throne.” *Snaps fingers*  
Roboute: “I am sure I can-”

*Two Imperial Fists dressed in full armour walk in carrying what appears to be a freshly carved throne*

Rogal: “I have made spares.”  
Perturabo: “You mean that  **I** anticipated the need for them and you just made them?”  
Rogal: “Correct. A good collaboration.”  
Perturabo: “Finally, something we agree on-”  
Sanguinius: “ _ Shush! _ ”

Minutes passed, until finally, people began to finally recover.

The command area of the  _ Rock  _ was barely held together, but the occupants were mostly alive from their crash. Only a handful of Dark Angel and Fallen Techmarines were knocked out, none dead from the crash. There was no telling about the rest of the  _ Rock _ , but for the moment the Lion and Gabriel were just glad they didn’t cause the obliteration of the planet.

“Report.” The Lion ground out, still holding onto pieces of the command throne he was near. He unconsciously glanced at Gabriel who had grabbed onto an auger display that now no longer worked. 

From the front of the command center, Friedrich was straightening up, along with the rest of his command squad, turning toward Lion from his spot. “It’s not a party favor, but as you can see, we are now in the scenic Hera’s crown mountains. The  _ Rock  _ is now the newest tourist attraction. How much will you be charging for tours?” Friedrich cracked a smile at his fellow demi-gods even as the tone of his voice never changed from the trademark Dornian tone.

Rogal: “Pffffffttt-” *Descends into laughter again, unable to keep himself from resisting the comical genius of his son from the future*  
Corvus: “This is so surreal…”  
Vulkan: “I enjoy seeing our brothers enjoy themselves! Rogal looks adorable with his little kicks and belly laughter!”  
Mortarion: “Honestly, it unnerves me, mostly. I thought it was only a fluke that Rogal laughed in TTS, but now…”  
Rogal: *Too busy dying of laughter*

Gabriel let out a nearly hysterical laugh, leaning against the display, shoulders shaking with relief. “I don’t know, cousin, probably enough to cost an arm and a leg. I’m thinking stuffed Watchers and autographs from us.” He let out a soft laugh, nearly buckling to the floor.

“I would purchase one.” Solen quipped from where he was still maglocked. The Squad fell into fits of chuckles, save the Chaplain who only grunted at their antics.

“Look at the bright side, Kirch.” The Apothecary, Oskar, jabbed the Chaplain on his armoured shoulder. “At least Widerholend will now have a new story to tell.”

Kirch only groaned louder, much to the amusement of the rest of the squad.

Emperor: *Snorts*  
Konrad: “Now the kid is in on it, fantastic…”  
Magnus: “Technically, Gabriel should be over ten thousand years old at this point.”  
Konrad: “You get what I mean, Lion King Man.”  
Magnus: “. _..whatdidyoujustfuckincallme? _ ”

Lion rolled his eyes, finding this ridiculous discussion beyond inane. He had more important matters to attend to, like finding out how many casualties they suffered, getting his legion back into order, possibly finding out how extensive the damage was, maybe heading to the Fortress and reconnecting with his brothers… Ah, yes, Gabriel was still here.

The young blonde spied his father turning to him, making his way closer to him, alarms blaring in his mind. His earlier laughter dying off and leaving him tense with worry about what was going to happen. He was surprised when his father offered him a hand, staring warily at the offered appendage.

“We’re alive. So now is the best time for us to agree on extending our truce.” Lion spoke, looking down at the nearly collapsed form of Gabriel. He wouldn’t dare show how tired he was, even if he felt as if his body was on fire and how much the boy affected him.

Fulgrim: “It’s a miracle! They’re actually going to keep their word!”  
Horus: “A hundred thrones says that this doesn't stick. Anyone taking it?”  
Magnus: “Two hundred that it doesn’t last the week.”  
Malcador: “Four hundred that they don’t last the day.”  
Jaghatai: “One thousand thrones.”

*Family stares*

Jaghatai: “Minutes.”  
Horus, Magnus, Malcador: “You’re on.”

Gabriel blinked slowly, sighing, and straightening up. He could feel the stares from the rest of the marines and even from Friedrich, it made him feel nearly uncomfortable. He took his father’s hand and shook it, the feeling of anger and disgust shivering through him in waves.  _ This may be a truce, but I still hate him. _

_ This may be a truce, but I still loathe him. _ Lion thought as father and son shook hands.

Jaghatai: *Already looking smug*

“We’ll extend the truce, get the legion back in order and rebuild. We can re-visit and settle this grudge later.” Gabriel added on, his mind already trying to figure out how to get the Legion to listen to him instead of his father.

“Agreed. We have more important matters than our petty squabble.” Lion answered back, his mind planning on how to command the Fallen to follow him and stop answering to his failure of a son.

Emperor: “Oh for fucks sake you two! They’re already planning on betraying each other!”  
Rogal: “They can not hear you father.”  
Emperor: “Look- I know Rogal-”  
Rogal: “Perhaps that is where Roboute had gotten it from. He did lecture a vid once, believing his son could hear him.”  
Emperor: *Angry grumble*  
Roboute: “Do not bring me into this.”

The two let go, turning away to start on their own plans and rebuilding of the legion. They made it a few steps, their minds unknowingly on the same track.

_ He wouldn’t want an extension like that unless he was planning something.  _ Gabriel thought to himself, already suspicious of his father and what it could be he was planning.

_ He agreed to that too quickly. He must be planning against me already.  _ Lion reasoned with himself, knowing his son was already thinking of turning the legion against him.

Horus: “Even I wasn’t this hostile to Leman when he was found. Are we sure they’re Father and son?”  
Magnus: “I can’t believe this…”  
Roboute: *Sighs* “Like father, like son…”

A few more steps away from each other, their minds turned into overdrive as they each imagined scenarios of the other trying to usurp the other, how one was planning cloak and dagger tactics that the other knew they would be able to pull off. The other guessing that the other would most likely run to the rest of the Primarchs, plead their case and get the rest of them to support their claim over the other and how the legion should listen to the other because one of them is the actual ruler and the other shouldn’t be leading because the other wasn’t fit for ruling.

_ If I were to turn my back like this… _

_...then I would be open for an attack! _

The two of them reached for their own respective weapons, already convinced that the other was planning to betray the other already. Gabriel knew his father was the type to want to get rid of competition and get rid of annoyances. Lion knew that Gabriel was too weak to compete against others fairly and would want to get rid of them.

_ -If he is going to betray me, then I can’t let him do that! _ They both thought as they knew what had to happen. _ I’ll strike first and surprise him and get the element of surprise! _

The two quickly spun around to attack, and were both surprised the other was attacking them and that their attack of opportunity had gone to waste! _ How dare he! I was supposed to attack first! _

“How  _ dare  _ you!” Gabriel shouted, angry his father ruined his surprise.

“How dare  _ you! _ ” Lion shouted back, angry that this brat had the same thought as him!

Emperor: “How dare the both of you!” *throws hands into air and lets out an aggravated sigh* “I swear, my children are a bunch of assholes!”  
Primarchs: “Oh, wonder where we got that from!”  
Emperor: “Not you!”

*Meanwhile, Jaghatai was looking very smugly at Horus, Magnus and Malcador who with a lot of grumbling handed over Jaghatai's well earned money*

Jaghatai: “Thank you very much brothers, Lord Sigillite.”  
Magnus: “Yeah, great and all Jaghatai. But how did you know?”  
Jaghatai: “How long can you stand to be in the same room with any of us when they are speaking openly about their disdain for you without getting the urge to punch him square in the face?”  
Horus: “Minute-oh for fucks sake…”  
Malcador: “Should have seen that one coming to be fair.”

**…**

**209.M42 - Emperor-Class Battleship -** **_The Ardent Will_ **

**…**

As the staff of the ship finally got into position, Lord High Admiral Spire hobbled to Aegidius’ side by the main viewport.

“Is this to be your first battle?” He quietly asked Aegidius even as the mentioned boy turned to face him.

“First one in space… So… yes?”

Horus: “That takes me back. Remember the first time we all experience void combat? Or a boarding action?”  
Magnus: “As clear as day. Granted, we were filled with tactics and knowledge about this since our inception.”  
Ferrus: “But there is a difference between simply knowing and actually going through it.”  
Horus: “Exactly. Not saying any of us failed or panicked, but just remembering the first void combat scenarios… Takes me back.”  
Emperor: “It took you a minute to realize what to do, Horus.”  
Horus: “It was not a minute! It was more of… A few seconds.”  
Emperor: “Oh, don’t be embarrassed! It was your first conflict, of course it’d take you a bit to realize what to do and how to do it. I was there to teach you and you weren’t in any danger. It was the first time I really started to feel like a father in… Wow, a really long time.”  
Rogal: “I remember the first time you helped me in battle, Father. I had been on the maiden voyage of the  _ Phalanx  _ under the Imperium’s rule, we were attacked by xenos raiders. It was comforting to know that you were there to support me in my first void battle.”  
Perturabo: “I didn’t get any help.”  
Emperor: “Well, you did run ahead to try and get to conquering for me before I could help you, so there’s that.”  
Perturabo: “...you… you may have a point.”

Spire reached up and lightly tapped Aegidius' shoulder.

“The first is always the worst, stick close to your guards and you shall be fine my liege, I swear to you.” The Admiral put on a light smile in an attempt to lighten Aegidius’ nerves.

The smile didn’t do much however, as Aegidius once more looked out of the viewport to see the previously repositioned groups of Cobra Class Squadrons fly over them and directly toward the enemy formation in order to harass them before they got into range of the main lance and macrocannon batteries of the defending fleet.

“Helm.” Called out Spire. “Turn us forty degrees starboard, bring us about with half speed, lance and macro batteries free to fire when in range.”

The helmsman quickly obeyed, and the  _ Ardent Will  _ slowly turned its massive form to slightly face the side of the enemy fleet.

“Stay any smaller craft until I give the order.” Ordered Spire again even as Aegidius saw a massive red flash as the first lances began firing toward the enemy fleet.

“Engagement distance eighty-five thousand kilometers and closing.” Supplied the navigation officer.

“Send out the escorts, let them soften those traitors for our macrocannons.” Once more ordered Spire, and not even a minute later, Aegidius saw multiple cruisers and smaller ships fly by their sides as they went to join the Cobra Class Squadrons already harassing the enemy ships.

“They appear to be… disorganized…” Slowly spoke Spire, his discriminating gaze focused on the chaos ships.

Malcador: “Hmmm… That would make the battle go a bit smoother. Though, I do have to wonder what could make the Black Legion get so disorganized, beyond just being corrupted by Chaos.”  
Emperor: “Maybe they’re disorganized for another reason?”  
Jaghatai: “Most likely, we have only one idea on why they would be there. Horus is on the run from them, but I don’t see why they’d want to stay together much longer after Horus is taken care of.”  
Emperor: “Possibly. Only way to find out is to watch it.”

“That is normal of chaos fleets, even those of the Black Legion.” Added Bjorn as he stomped over in his heavy Dreadnought form to join the two.

“Yes my lord, however…” Slowly spoke Spire. “This is… different, they are completely disorganized… and it is more than just blood lust, it is as if they are-”

“Infighting.” Cut in Horus as he too now joined the trio standing at the main viewport.

“Yes Lord Eye, it looks as if they are torn between attacking us and each other.”

Said Spire even as he turned to look at Horus.

“Indeed, that is what I was actually going to talk about earlier, the Word Bearers are staging a takeover.”

Emperor: “Of course… Of course that would be the reason.”  
Lorgar: “Ugh… I don’t even want to remember what my future self is like. Just the glances of him from Text to Speech and the historical vids was enough. I can only imagine what else he is planning on doing. I hope to Father he doesn’t have children.”  
Rogal: *Calmly throws a wooden beam towards Lorgar*  
Lorgar: *Catches it but looks visibly confused* “...Rogal, why did you throw this at me?”  
Rogal: “I have read that the superstitious way to get rid of the mystical powers to bend reality to enforce terrible outcomes due to spoken words can be negated by the knocking of wood. I am unable to tell which kind of wood will serve this purpose better, shall I retrieve you more samples?”  
Lorgar: “What- no. No, no. I’m fine. Just…”  
Guilliman: “Where did you even get that?”  
Rogal: “I have some supplies for building and fortifications behind and inside my throne at all times. Punch the wood, brother.”  
Perturabo: “Leave him be Guilliman, the less questions you ask, the better for the sake of your sanity.”

Both Spire and Bjorn visibly recoiled at the news.

“Those damned zealots are doing what?” Shouted Bjorn in surprise.

“From what I have gathered, they haven’t trusted Abbadon for some time now… and they have been spreading rumors that, combined with the length of time they have gone without killing anything, is making all of the World Eaters aboard their ships… unhinged to say the least, even more so than usual.” 

Horus motioned out of the viewport and towards the bloodied ships, pointing out the many signs of neglected maintenance and damage which could have only originated from inside of the vessels. 

“That, and combined with Abaddon's own lieutenants who have been standing up against his own orders, forced Abaddon to kill some of them, the Black Legion is far more scattered than you thought.” Horus informed, feeling both relieved that his wayward sons would possibly be defeated once and for all, but also slightly hollow from seeing his own sons having fallen so far.

Jaghatai: “And so does an overzealous warriors soul make its own downfall.”  
Magnus: “Indeed, a rather sad affair to see just how far Angron’s sons have fallen.”  
Konrad: “Pah, sad. Call it what it is. Justice.”  
Mortarion: “I do not think this justice, most of those marines don’t know who or what they are anymore.”  
Emperor: “You are correct Mortarion. Their souls would have long since been corrupted until most of them resembled mere shadows of their former selves.”  
Roboute: “In any case this might cost them the battle.”  
Leman: “Yer’ just hoping that yer’ kid gets out of this alive at this point right?”  
Roboute: *Sighs in relief* “Aegidius has been getting into these battles far too frequently for my comfort. You speak as if me wanting my son not to die is a bad thing. I shouldn’t be surprised, since you seem to have such little regard for  _ your own daughter. _ ”  
Leman: “Meh, the kids gotta learn sometime, looking at the state of the Imperium, might as well be now.”  
Roboute: “How can you say that?”  
Leman: “I blame my wolf mother.”  
Magnus: “Oh yes, raised quite literally by wolves, how quaint.”  
Leman: “Better than being raised in a desert with brain eating bugs.”  
Emperor: “Boys! Quiet the both of you.”  
Leman, Magnus: *Grumble*

Spire took a few seconds to think of the matter before slowly beginning to nod. “Yes… yes this does make sense. However, in order to exploit this we would need to bait-”

“Lord Admiral!” The master of the sensorium shouted even as he ran up to Spire.

“Yes, what is it?” Spire asked in a slightly annoyed tone.

“A ship is coming for us! An Acheron-class cruiser whose transponder marks it as the  _ Chaos Eternus, _ it has Khornate markings all over its hull!”

“No need to set the bait it seems.” Slowly spoke Spire even as he turned toward the helm.

“Begin anti-ship maneuvers, full rearward engine power, give them as much hell as possible before they close to boarding range.”

Echoes of understanding came back from the helm even as Spire turned toward the Vox officer.

“Get Colonel Maxon and tell him to prepare his troops. We will be hosts for some unwanted guests soon.”

Without saying a word, Aegidius was suddenly surrounded by his Custodes even as the Space Wolves spread out all across the bridge.

“You might wish to prepare your majesty.” Suggested Pupponious even as he cocked his own Guardian spear, and they felt the ship rumble under the fire of its own macrocannon batteries.

Aegidius gulped and breathed slowly as his left hand went down to the holster that held his own Custom small bolt pistol and his right went for the sword sheath that held his Master-Crafted Power sword.

“Sir! Augur arrays show multiple other Black legion ships converging on our position!” Called out the Master of the sensorium yet again.

“Hold them off for as long as you can, set the other battleships and cruisers in their path, let them run a gauntlet of fire before reaching us. The rest of you, prepare for boarding action!” Responded Spire, even as multiple barriers began raising across the bridge to act as cover against any potential borders. Just as multiple servitor turrets began to stir from their machine like slumber.

Aegidius took deep breaths as he made sure that he had extra magazines on hand for his Bolt Pistol even as he released the safety on it. This battle was going to be very different to Bastonye. This time, he couldn’t panic.  _ Would not  _ panic.

No sooner had he finished steeling his nerves, the main doors to the bridge opened and in walked a man dressed in the officer uniform of the Imperial Navy Armsmen, he was quickly followed by a few dozen of his men, all armed with lasguns of various types along with some type of melee weapon, mostly chainswords, the only melee weapons in their possession that they could even hope to pierce the armour of Chaos Space Marines.

“Colonel Maxson.” Greeted Spire as he hobbled over to the scarred officer, who bowed his head in return as he responded. 

“Lord High Admiral. What are your orders? I had readied the men for a boarding action, but then I noticed that the Aeronautica forces had stayed within the ship's hangers.”

Spire gave an aging smile to the Colonel. “Indeed, I am keeping them in reserve for the right time. Meanwhile, your men are required here. The enemy will attempt to board us any minute now, no doubt both attempting to cut the head off of our command vessel, and sate their thirst for blood thirst in one move.”

Aegidius tuned out the old Admiral to look out of the main viewport.

It was absolutely crawling with ships. Friend and foe alike, both vying to slaughter the other. The Imperial ships desperately attempt to keep the Black Fleet from getting closer to the  _ Ardent Will. _

Fulgrim: “With how many ships there are, it looks like this will be a tough battle…”  
Vulkan: “As long as Father is there with him, everything should be fine.”  
Konrad: *Snorting laugh*  
Rogal: “Oh no you don’t-” *About to throw a wooden beam to Vulkan*

But that was not what worried Aegidius…

_ Grandfather, are you there? _

Rogal: *Stops and sighs* “...never mind. It is happening.”  
Vulkan: “What?”  
Rogal: “I was unable to get the preventative measure to you in time. Now nothing can stop it.”  
Vulkan: “...Oh wait-”  
Emperor: “I hope I’m not down for the count.”  
Konrad: “You will.”  
Emperor: “Konrad! Spoilers!”  
Rogal: “I have made my attempt.”

Silence was his only answer. It was now coming up to half an hour since his grandfather had fallen silent.

_ Why are you being so quiet now? I’m about to go into battle, don’t you usually love to point out all my flaws and make fun of me? Come you… You lich! You… Revenant- I… Please grandfather, answer me. _

“My liege.” Said one of the Custodes, walking to Aegidius’ side. “Are you alright?”

Aegidius looked up at the Custodes, attempting to keep the fear and anxiety that he was feeling from showing on his face.

“Yes-yes I am fine…”

“Not to worry, my liege.” Said another Custodes. “We will protect you, come hell or the jaws of death itself for any of us, you shall not fall this day.”

Aegidius soon tuned out the words of any other Custodes as he once more focused on his mind. This was it, this is where he could just as easily die as anywhere… but with the Emperor not responding…

“Lord High Admiral!” Came a yell from the Master of the sensorium.

“Yes?” Asked Spire as he turned toward the man and hobbled for the Command Throne.

“Some ships have slipped through! They are coming for- boarding ram and torpedo launches detected!”

“Steer hard to port! Fire auxiliary thrusters!” Commanded Spire, even as he strapped himself into his command throne.

Roboute: *Sudden massive bout of sweating and heavy breathing*

The massive battleship suddenly swung and Aegidius felt the floor shift beneath his feet even as he was sent flying across the bridge, the artificial gravity projectors failing to catch up in time, some of the Custodes trying to grab him in vain desperation.

Before he knew it, he was stopped by the wall near the bridges main entrance, his sword and bolt pistol going flying in two different directions, slamming painfully into the adamantium and rockrete structure with the side of his body, immediately feeling pain shoot out from the point of impact despite his carapace armour, even as he let out a slight wince.

“My liege!” Came a cry from one of the Custodes, even as they began to run toward their Emperor.

Roboute: “Aegidius!” *Stands up from his throne so fast that it tips over behind him*  
Leman: “What are yer’ worrying about? The lad just got thrown around a bit.”  
Roboute: “I’m worried because this is chaos, and dealing with them is never just a bit of ‘throwing around’!”

It appeared that like always, however, luck had a twisted sense of humor for Aegidius, as when the Custodes were at exactly the halfway point to reaching their Emperor, the massive point of a boarding ram broke through the wall, smashing two of the Custodes.

Roboute: *Violently points at the holo-projection*  
Leman: “Ain’t that bad!”  
Horus: “Agreed Leman. Roboute nothing bad is as of yet to actually-”

To only further his misery, the rams main ramp dropped. And out ran what Aegidius could only describe as a nightmare fueled version of the people he once thought his brothers.

“ **Blood for the Blood God! Skulls for the Skull Throne!** ”

Roboute: *Violently stabbing at the holo-projection even as he is internally screaming with the force of a thousand banshees*  
Horus: “Ok, poor choice of words.”

The cry that came from the monstrosities made Aegidius’ blood go cold even as he heard the distinct roar of chainaxes.

Then, one of the horned Berserkers looked at him.

For a second, nothing happened, the Khornate merely looking at Aegidius as if he was his next meal.

Then... Aegidius recognised the very slight amount of movement which came from the monster. The tiniest of a muscles twitch.

It recognized him.

Without even seeming to think about it, the Berserker let out a warcry as it launched itself directly in Aegidius’ direction.

Roboute: *Gnawing on his own teeth and tongue*  
Emperor: “Roboute! Sit down, you’re going to have to calm down!”  
Roboute: *Quickly looks at the Emperor* “How would you feel if I had picked up Horus when he was the Primarch equivalent of twelve years old and threw him into a pack of warmongering zealots!?”  
Emperor: “Hey now I-”  
Horus: “He did that, so he would feel just fine, wouldn’t you father?”  
Emperor: “In my defense, I was different back then-”  
Sanguinius:  _ “Shush!”  
_ Malcador: “This entire family needs more therapy than a hyped up junkie with an extreme case of PTSD.”

Practically powerless without his Grandfather, and without any of his standard weapons to protect himself. Aegidius desperately attempted to focus his mind, the thought of a psychic blast coming to his head.

He had it almost completely shaped. The power it required, how he would grasp it and-

The oncoming axe snapped his mind to go for a more practical approach, his training reminding him that the best course of action is often, the simplest.

Aegidius quickly clapped his hands together, catching the sides of the axe, barely able to hold back the weapon itself from reaching its goal of tearing his midriff apart.

In blistering speed, the Khornate drew back the chainaxe, shaking off Aegidius with some effort, and swung again, this time at Aegidius’ head.

Only to have the hand wielding it be cut off mid-swing by the blade of a Guardian spear.

Pupponius suddenly stood above his Emperor, twisting his spear in an arc which saw the Khornate quickly decapitated, the Berserker proving no match for one of the Emperor’s talons.

Roboute: *Sigh of indescribable relief* “I swear, these vids are causing me to age rapidly.”  
Emperor: “That’s why I’m telling you to sit down and calm down. Before you start lecturing the vid again.”  
Roboute: “I didn’t mean to! I was caught in the heat of the moment.”  
Leman: “Sit down already! Some of us can’t see past yer’ fat-”  
Roboute: “Fine! I’m sitting.” *Throws self onto throne*

Aegidius looked up at the massive form of his bodyguard even as Puponius quickly reached down, pulled him to his feet, pressed Aegidius’ bolt pistol into his hands and ran off as soon as he was satisfied with his Lord’s state, shooting at and disemboweling another Khornate in but a couple of seconds.

Aegidius shifted his attention to the rest of the bridge now, the sound of heavy battle finally cutting through his shock and making him rise from his stupor.

What he saw would haunt him for the rest of his days.

All around the bridge, various fights were going on.

Some of the valiant armsmen attempted in vain to mow down the berserkers before they reached them, abandoning their lasguns as soon as the Khornates had reached melee range. Only to be cut apart like chaff before a scythe, spilling guts and gore where they once stood.

The Space Wolves were doing a much better job however, despite some of their number falling, the berserkers had quickly found their match with the Sons of Russ as chainaxe met power axe in various vicious duels.

Limbs and entrails accompanied the blood which was now flowing across the deck of the  _ Ardent Will _ as freely as if it were water in the stream of a river.

But it was the Custodes that well and truly surprised Aegidius.

They were on a whole other plane of existence. Making the battle look like an art form, gracefully streaming into combat with their Guardian Spears and various other weaponry, they cut and shot through the Khornates as if they were mere rabble, the hits they could not avoid from various chain weaponry and bolt pistols scraping almost harmlessly off of their pristine master-crafted auromite power armour.

All the while, they circled around Aegidius, attempting to stop any and all danger from getting through to their Emperor. At instances, even diving in front of flying bolt shells to catch them on their armour so that Aegidius would not have to.

His entire life, Aegidius only knew the Custodes were powerful through their stories and what others had told of their feats. Sure they were strong and fast, however, he had only ever seen them as his super tall, super strong baby sitters. He could even recall the times they put him down for naps, for Grandfather’s sake!

Now they were cutting through the equivalent of his nightmares as if they were nothing!

A bolt shell exploding near him finally managed to shake him out of his stupor, causing him to stand and run toward a nearby barrier, hulking down behind it and quickly searching for targets with his bolt pistol.

He quickly sighted a Khornate on his pistol’s sights.

He let out his breath.

Roboute: “Just do it, it’s not as bad as last time…”  
Vulkan: “Last time was another person, this time it’s just traitors.”  
Emperor: “Traitors are still human, you know. Honestly, it just makes everything worse.”

_ Squeeze, don’t press… _

Right as he was about to squeeze the trigger, he was thrown off his feet by a massive rumbling coming from above him. 

He was just barely able to get out of the way as the massive form of a boarding torpedo, sickened with various diseases and living flesh, drilled through the upper bridge section, destroying a firing Servitor turret, the hole it left behind in the massive thick armour being choked by the drill itself, preventing the entire crew from being vented off into space.

The drill head fell off, and out dropped the diseased and rotting forms of Death Guard Terminators. Their ancient armour having long since fused to their skin and over-run with various diseases and living abominations.

Mortarion: *Shudders* “I despise looking at what my sons have become…”  
Emperor: “Well, make sure to hug them after this, then.”  
Mortarion: “How will that-?”  
Emperor: “I don’t know to be frank, I'm still in the middle of figuring out fatherly advice. Or wait, I have, but I’m just having a moment…”

And because Aegidius’ day just apparently wasn’t bad enough, one of the Terminators landed right by him.

This time, Aegidius did not hesitate. He brought up his bolt pistol and desperately fired at the Terminator's helmet, ancient ceramite flying off of the Plague Marines head in chunks from the bolts which detonated upon it.

Then, his hand shifted and a bolt pierced one of the massive boils on the Plague Marines chest. Ichor and pus exploding from the bolts detonation as Aegidius’ sensitive Aeldari nose was assaulted with an incredibly vile stench. So bad, so disgusting was it that he brought one of his gloved hands over his mouth, dry heaving even as he continued firing hopelessly at the ancient Terminator who was now advancing on him in an excruciatingly slow pace.

The entire family: *Collective shudders*

He kept firing, the bolts detonating almost harmlessly on the Plague Marines armour, at times shearing off a piece of rotting ceramite or destroying another boil or unnatural growth, making the smell grow only worse and worse as Aegidius desperately hoped that the Marine would finally keel over or Pupponius would save him.

Then Aegidius’ bolt pistol clicked empty.

The most unnatural and disgusting gurgle of laughter came from the Plague Marine as he finally came into melee range and lifted his power scythe to strike Aegidius down where he stood.

Emperor: *Glances to Roboute, expecting another outburst*  
Roboute: *Just staring at the screen, silent*  
Emperor: “Anything?”  
Roboute: “...I am too livid at the moment to even fully express how angry I am at this. I think I’ve found that spot in between horror and unrelenting anger. A type of homeostasis between them that makes me feel nothing.”  
Perturabo: “Well, you’re not screaming or destroying the place anymore, so… go ahead and stay in that homeostasis.”  
Roboute: “I think I will.”  
Lorgar: “I told you anger homeostasis was a thing.”  
Emperor: “Okay fine, you were-”  
Sanguinius: “Shush!”

Yet again however, Aegidius felt as the entire ship shook violently, his mind being assaulted by various daemonic images for a mere split second.

_ A warp tear?! Where- _

Aegidius’ thoughts were cut short when he saw a massive sword be spat out from a warp tear that had just formed above him. The massive weapon still in its sheath, and absolutely radiating psychic energy.

Horus: “Wait! That can’t be-”  
Magnus: “That’s where it went?! **_How?!_ ** ”  
Emperor: *Innocently whistling*  
Malcador: “...It’s not, is it-?”  
Emperor: “Shhh…”  
Malcador: “Really?”  
Emperor: “ _ Just watch. _ ”

The Terminator attempted to look up as best as it could, obviously distracted by what Aegidius found so attention grabbing that he would take his eyes off of the monster attempting to end his life.

Only for the gargantuan blade to fall with incredible speed. Impaling the Plague Marine directly through his head. 

Indeed, so massive and fast was the blade in question that despite still being in its scabbard, it buried itself into the Marine’s head and came out near the Marines groin, forcing the Plague Marine to fall over, dead.

Magnus: *Standing up and pointing directly at the screen* “Okay, no. How in the everloving grox-shite shovelers of the galaxy  _ did that happen!?”  
_ Rogal: “The impossibility of the situation only appears to be increasing.”  
Magnus: *Violently pointing at the screen and miming out his words* “First off, it was by pure chance that Lion and Gabriel just  _ backhanded a holy sword _ out of a window while they were in the middle of warp jumping! Second, it then somehow,  _ somehow _ , that sword flew through the warp and flew until it tore a hole in reality aboard that specific ship at that specific time and place and flew at the exact speed and trajectory needed to impact at the right moment that just so happened to have aegidius on board during an attack to impale itself into the head of a Plague Marine about to attack Aegidius while Father is taking a bloody nap inside his mind.  **_Did I get that right!?_ ** ”  
Rogal: “...yes.”  
Emperor: “Yeah that about sums it up.”  
Magnus: “ _ Why are you so calm about this!? _ ”  
Emperor: *More innocent whistling*  
Magnus: “You didn’t.”  
Emperor: “Well… no of course not.”  
Magnus: “Then how-”  
Emperor: “Well not me is in  _ me _ at this time and place-”  
Horus: “Oh for fucks sake.”  
Magnus: “It's like that game of regicide all over again.”  
Emperor: “Come now, Magnus. It's not so bad. It’s just… reality bending at its finest.”  
Magnus: “It is! It is  _ literally  _ that damned bad! Your future self somehow managed to grab that sword, which was tearing through time and reality by the way, and fling it at aegidius! How, by Lemans poor suffering overused liver, did you do that?!”  
Emperor: “Just think about it for a second, okay? Lion and Gabriel had the chance to see it for what it was, and batted it away-”  
Roboute: “They had a fraction of a fraction of a second and it was during a full scale attack from daemons! For all they knew, it could have been anything thrown to kill them.”  
Emperor: “-that may be true but uh… well, it was a risk future me was apparently willing to take.”  
Rogal: “Father, future you, is an asshole.”  
The family: “Tell us something we don’t know about Rogal!”  
Rogal: “I have discovered the specifics on why Friedrich is the way he is and it is due to a certain part of the sexual formative-”  
Emperor: *Already red faced* “How did you come up with that subject!?”  
Rogal: “You have told me to tell you something you do not know. I am merely-”  
Sanguinius: “Can we please just calm down and watch the vid, please!?”  
Malcador: “I agree, and I think I need to have a few drinks if you all are going to keep acting like this.”  
Magnus: “But I have a point and Father isn’t-”  
Malcador: “Well I don’t care! This entire situation is out of control and all of you acting like this is making my headache from earlier turn into a full blown migraine! Figure out the mathematical side of this out on your own later, I just want to sit down and watch this vid so we can actually get some work done!”  
Everyone: *Grumbles and gets comfy again for the viewing*  
Malcador: “All of you are children.”

Aegidius turned when he heard the tell-tale sound of ceramite smashing against ceramite. Seeing Horus in all of his glory, punching another Terminator in his armoured helmet, doing little harm to the Plague Marine.

“Hor-” Aegidius caught himself at the last second. “-Lord Eye!”

That did it, Horus turned his head swiftly toward Aegidius, who only pointed with his bolt pistol toward the gargantuan sword, before releasing and slamming in a new magazine, he then fired at the Terminator behind Horus by pure instinct, giving him some much needed cover. Giving only a couple of seconds of respite to the former Warmaster.

The Primarch needed only one.

Horus rolled back and grabbed the massive sword with both hands. He gave the handle a gentle tug, surprised at just how easily it slid out of its scabbard.

He quickly brought the blade up before his face, holding it with both of his hands as he automatically took a defensive stance. 

Only then did he see the handle, truly saw it for the first time, it was intricately decorated and had an oddly specific shape, the blade which sprung from it showed signs of only the most delicate and masterful artificery in the entirety of the ancient Imperium.

Fulgrim: “Oh my.”  
Ferrus: “I knew it.”  
Horus: “Hey! Something good happens to me for a change!”  
Vulkan: “It’s just the Lion sword-”  
Horus: “That thing flew through the Immaterium and killed a Marine while still in its scabbard for crying out loud!”  
Emperor: “That’d go a long way to help everyone see you’re not evil. Although in all honesty, I did not make it that powerful-”

That all happened in roughly half a second.

In the second half, Horus ran forward, sword in hand, and swung it at the Terminator.

The sword sang its chilling song as it cut through ceramite and ancient rotting flesh as if it were mere paper, and by the time it had cut through, the Plague Marine had lost an entire shoulder along with his arm.

Horus quickly twirled the blade in an arc for another strike, only to swing at empty space. The Plague Marine falling to the floor in front of the Primarch.

“It burns! It burns!  **It burns!** ” The rotting Plague Marine screamed from the floor, grabbing his massive wound with his other arm.

A wound which was quite literally on fire.

Emperor: “-ok, nevermind the damn thing got reforged with psychic energy.”  
Horus: “God Sword!”  
Jaghatai: “New catchphrase, brother?”  
Mortarion: “Will you stop acting like a child? You’re acting like it’s New Year’s or something.”  
Horus: “It literally sets things on fire with psychic might and might be able to instant kill daemons and chaos tainted enemies. Let me be excited for future clone me for once! Besides, this is the literal first time we have gone through with seeing future me and not refering to me as ‘Fucking Horus’. Let me be excited.”

Horus only spared the Marine a second glance before swinging the blade in an arc which saw the suffering Marines head separated from its shoulders. 

He quickly realized that no tall tales were spun about his brother's legendary blade. How it got here was another matter, one that he would find the answers to at a later date, for now, he had abominations to kill.

**…**

**209.M42 - Fortress of Hera,** **_Macragge_ **

**…**

Malcador: “Don’t say anything Sanguinius.”  
Sanguinius: *Angel grumbling*

Brother Julian was in a dead sprint carrying the latest reports for the War Council, a serf could have done his task, but Brother Julian knew he would be faster and get these to the War Council as soon as possible. With news of the Black Legion on their way to the border and the active engagement going on, it was imperative the Leadership be updated as soon as possible if the worst happened and the Black Legion were to break through.

Konrad: “Wait a minute, that neophyte looks…” *Realises and sinks into his throne*  
Corvus: “Is what?”  
Konrad: “Hiss.”  
Vulkan: “What is it?”  
Konrad: “ _ Hiss! _ ”

The young neophyte of the  _ Umbra Domini _ , the newly remade VIIIth Legion, made himself useful any way he could, he was one of the few contacts from the hidden planet of Quirinius where his Primarch and young brother were training the Legion. In just another few seconds, he would be able to get to the War Room, deliver the reports and sprint back and forth for the Primarchs as a messenger with messages far too important to be passed on by Vox or Astropath.

Konrad: *Covers face*  
Emperor: “Oh, calm down. It’s good to see your Legion is coming back up! The new name sounds pretty good, even if it’s just-”  
Konrad: “He made the name. I just know it.”  
Emperor: “Most likely-”  
Malcador: “Who?”  
Emperor: “Konrad’s son, Damien. He’s saying his son most likely named the new Legion.”  
Roboute: *stares at Konrad*  
Konrad: “What.”  
Roboute: “I knew it.”  
Konrad: “Knew what.”  
Roboute: *Sits back and relaxes a bit* “I just knew it.”  
Konrad: “ _ Knew what? _ ”  
Emperor: “Yeah, I knew it too.”  
Konrad: “Knew. What!?”  
Emperor: “Keep playing!”  
Konrad: “I demand you tell me-”  
Sanguinius: “I am trying to watch, so shut your mouths!”  
Konrad: *Glares*  
Sanguinius: *Sudden vampire look* “ **_Hissssssss!_ ** ”  
Konrad: “...we can talk about this later.”

As he ran up to the doors, two of the posted guards opened it for him and Julian ran directly to the massive man wearing gleaming yellow power armour, that must have been Lord Dorn, the Praetorian of Imperium Secundus and the man his message was meant for.

“My lord.” Said Julian quickly, even as he slightly bowed his head and gave the Praetorian the message which he had so carefully carried.

Lord Dorn took it and read through it quickly before looking down at Julian.

“Good, you may tell Commander-”

The loud sound of an alarm going off got their attention immediately.

“What in the bleedin ell’ is that!?” Shouted, who Julian presumed to be, Leman Russ, the Wolf King of Fenris himself.

Roboute: “Just a mobile Fortress Monastery falling onto my planet. That is all.”  
Lorgar: “Still in homeostasis?”  
Roboute: “Most definitely.”

“Incoming enemy fleet as reported by our orbital monitoring system.” Answered one of the Marines managing the massive holomap that was displayed in the center of the room.

And sure to form, soon a massive fleet was spat out by the warp, directly above Macragge's orbit, roughly half of it transponding friendly green signatures, and the other half, grey unknown ones.

There was one that stood out however.

A massive green one, so great was its size that it was about twenty times greater than any other point on the hololithic projection.

“What is that?” Asked Lord Mortarion, stepping closer to the holomap.

“Contact Friedrich, he will report about this unknown entity.” Commanded Lord Dorn to a vox officer who immediately made contact with the  _ Phalanx  _ in orbit.

“Father.”

“Son.” The two Lords greeted each other over the vox even as Lord Friedrich continued to speak.

“They have contacted us for help. It is _ the Rock _ .”

Everyone in the room was shocked into silence for a moment.

“Dark Angels? What be those bastards doin’ ere?” Demanded Lord Russ. “I thought them lost?”

“That appears not to be the case anymore brother.” Pointed out Lord Mortarion.

“They are reporting one minor issue.” Spoke up Friedrich again.

“What would that be?” Said Lord Dorn.

“They are in Macragge's gravitational pull and have no functioning enginarium and are working on fixing the navigational systems.”

Roboute: *Eye twitch*  
Emperor: “Roboute? Are you alrig-”  
Roboute: “Just fine, Father.”  
Leman: “Yer twitchin’ yer know that ri-”  
Roboute: “I am fine Leman.” *Wildly looks around and opens mouth preparing to speak*

“What?!” Roared one of the nearby Ultramarine officers.

Roboute: “What he said!”

“Do not worry father, I have a plan. I will fix this.” Friedrich reassured his father and any who were listening.

“Tug of war?”

“Tug of war.”

“Go son, and bring me answers. And take care of our home.”

“It will have but a few beauty scars at worst, Father. I wonder if they are giving out party favours?” The vox cut off.

Rogal: *Snort of laughter*  
Perturabo: “Can you please stop?”  
Rogal: “It was a funny joke.”  
Perturabo: *Facepalm*

With that the room exploded into a flurry of activity even as Julian was left thoroughly confused.

_ Party favors… what in the-OH!  _ Well, this had nothing to do with Brother Julian, he was just a neophyte delivering messages. It sure beat being on Quirinius, however...

He was about to continue with his duties, but felt the grip of the Wolf King of Fenris onto his shoulder keeping the Umbra neophyte from leaving. The neophyte looked up at Leman slowly, noting how the Old King was giving him a toothy grin. He did not like the feeling he got from that… not one bit.

“Yer’ comin with me, lad.”

“My-my Lord… if I may ask-uhm why?”

“Well, you’re here to be trained, right? Nothing better than hands on experience! We get ta’ be the welcomin’ party.”

Brother Julian stammered, desperately attempting to get out of the situation he was dragged into.

He was honoured beyond belief of course! It was just that… that going out with the  _ Wolf King  _ on a mission as a neophyte might have been rushing things a tiny bit too much-?

“I am honoured, Lord Russ! But-”

“Great! We leave immediately!”

“Leaving at this moment would be highly inadvisable. We are located in the most fortified location on the planet.” Said Lord Dorn, even as he walked closer to the two, causing Julian’s already fast heartbeat to quicken. “There ** _is_** a mobile fortress monastery currently inbound to impact the planet.”

Emperor: “Do you have to be so nonchalant over this Rogal?”  
Rogal: “Future me is not being nonchalant, he is expressing pure worry.”  
Emperor: “...ah yes, how silly of me.”  
Rogal: “You are forgiven, Father.”  
Emperor: *Facepalm*

“This isn’t the first time Leman has been in this type of situation. I say, let them go.” Added Lord Mortarion as he too came closer, making poor Julian almost faint with being this close to three living breathing Primarchs.

The little neophyte felt beyond small in this moment. How did the Legionaries of old take this?! Or even being close _to the Emperor himself!?_ He started hyperventilating, almost impossible with his newly installed third lung catching up. The neophyte nearly fainted when Leman wrapped an arm around him, physically picking him up from the floor without any effort.

“See! Even Mortarion agrees. The greenhorn can handle it. Right?”

Somehow, impossibly, Julian felt even fainter. Now being under the direct scrutiny of all the Primarchs. It did not help that he was being held like a rag doll by one of them.  _ Emperor save me! no-wait-he’s their Father! Throne save me! No wait! He sat upon that!? Terra’s grace- wait it’s gone! What do I even use for cursing!? _

Vulkan: “That poor little neophyte…”  
Konrad: “Myyeegh…”  
Vulkan: “I know our presence can overwhelm someone, but that neophyte has three Primarchs all around him. I feel deeply for him…”  
Leman: “Which is odd, since we have seen vids where some people are resistant to it…”  
Emperor: “Yeah… w-weird how that goes… Yep. Just a coincidence that some women are unaffected… yup.”  
Horus: *Wants to say something but decides to just let it go*  
Malcador: *Telepathically asks* “ _ Did you really? Really do that?  
_ Emperor: _ “I wanted grandchildren. _ ”  
Malcador: “ _ That early? _ ”  
Emperor: “ _ Don’t get in the way between me and my future grandkids, Mal. _ ”  
Malcador: “ _ So this is how forty millennia of no family makes you act. _ ”

Unfortunately, the Primarchs didn’t even notice the distress of the neophyte in question, since his complexion was naturally pale. VIIIth Legion and all that. Brother Julian would just have to suffer the attention of three Primarchs all at once while still only barely being fit to be a Space Marine.

“ _...I want to die. _ ”

“Well of course ye’ do! Yer Konrad’s son! He was always in that state. Come on, killin somethin’ will make yer feel better. Let’s gather yer fellow neophytes and head out.”

Konrad: “I’d stab you for that.”  
Leman: “But yer won’t.”  
Konrad: “Do not tempt me.”  
Leman: “What are yer gonna do? Stab me?”  
Malcador: “He won’t, I confiscated all of his knives.”  
Konrad: “You missed one-” *Reaches down into his boot, only for it to squeak* “What the-” *Pulls out rubber ducky*  
Malcador: “Good one sonny, but that is the oldest trick in the book, better luck next time.”  
Konrad: *Throws the ducky across the room and hits Vulkan in the face who doesn't mind in the slightest*

With that, Leman dragged Julian out and toward the Neophyte barracks, Julian barely able to keep his poor shit together even as the Wolf King began singing a battle tune under his breath. Joined by two Space Wolves as they headed out of the war room, ignoring the blaring of sirens as the  _ Rock  _ was now impacting the Mountains of Hera, along with the shockwaves rumbling through the fortress and planet alike.

**…**

**209.M42 - Mountains of Hera,** **_Macragge_ **

**…**

The dust in the air hadn’t even cleared yet, the debris of rock, rockrete and space dust that was clogging the humid air from the impact site and rapidly melting snow. Through the clouds of thick dust, it was almost impossible to see the mobile fortress monastery, even if you were only but a handful of meters away from it. 

This was the site that greeted the party of the Wolf King, the neophytes sticking close, their rifles raised and pointed at anything that moved, unable to see very far compared to the veterans with their helmets and heightened senses.

“If it’s this bad up here, how is it down in the city?” One neophyte asked, another shrugging at the question.

“Focus, pups.” An older Space Wolf growled at them, making the talking neophytes duck their heads in deference.

Leman led the group, idly wondering how this was going to end up. It had been a while since he had heard or seen the Dark Angels, so it was going to be a surprise nonetheless. The near stillness of the impact sight made every sound they made echoed through the air, the rapidly melting snow being second to their steps in the site.

“How's the vox connection coming along?” Asked Leman as they advanced further.

“None made my Lord. The passive radiation in the air along with all of this dust is jamming all of our signals. We can’t access the feeds to the Augur arrays either, damned things must have been knocked out when this thing impacted harder than a Kraken that missed lunch.”

“Well, that’s fucked, ain’t it.” Leman sighed, trudging along and finally getting close enough to the absolutely massive form of the former mobile fortress monastery to touch. “Here we are. Now, how to get in. I’m thinking since it’s already in such bad shape we could just break through…”

“Can’t use explosives, the hull is far too thick” A neophyte supplied from the back of the group.

“I am detecting several meter thick adamantium armour all around the fortress with my scans.” Said the Iron Priest that accompanied the group. “The monastery has not suffered heavily upon its landing. The neophytes are correct, that makes any conventional explosives that we could use, woefully insufficient and cutting through would take a boarding drill or torpedo at the very least.”

Leman let out a huff, “Well, we need to find an entry point. Then we can get to work on fixin’ the situation and-” He stopped, perking up as he heard and felt something before the others could even register it. “What in the-”

He sprang into action and grabbed the nearest Marines to press against the walls of the monastery, “Against the walls!” As soon as they scrambled to the walls, the sound of polycarbonate glass shattering and raining down onto their position, the sound of an impact rang through the air past them, the groans from someone that Leman hadn’t heard in multiple millenia.

“Fookin’ hells, Lion is that you?” Leman called out, knowing his brother’s presence anywhere.

Horus: “Oh no.”  
Lorgar: “Here we go again.”  
Emperor: “At least Leman is there to stop them from killing each other.”  
Sanguinius: “Considering those two, it will be a miracle if Leman will be able to catch up once they start fighting.”  
Leman: “Oy! I will.”  
Roboute: “I hope so, Macragge has suffered enough, I don’t need Lion and Gabriel raging through it.”

The form of Lion el’Jonson forced himself up, barely paying attention to Leman as he got into a battle stance. Only seconds later, did more polycarbonate fall from above and what looked like another Marine launched himself from the unknown area above and dove right into Lion while screaming bloody murder.

Before the Primarch and his group, they witnessed the duel between Lion el’Jonson and some unknown assailant, both becoming a blur as they moved through the dust clouds, the sounds of their battle ringing through the air and the screams of angry marines from above them echoing through.

“Will the both of you stop!?”

“This has gone on long enough!”

“Can’t you two not try to kill each other for five damned minutes!?”

“Their hatred for each other is blinding them.”

“Like fucking father-”  
“-like fucking son.”  
Everyone: *Startled*  
Emperor: “Boys! When did you join us!?”  
“We never left.”  
Everyone: *Questioning their own sanity*

“Thank you, Lord Dorn. We were lost for a second.” Kirch growled.

“No thanks necessary. I am merely pointing out the obvious.”

Solen let out a pained groan, “That… doesn't make it any better.”

“You know what does… what were we fighting over in the first place, again?” A Fallen asked.

“Well, you betrayed the Imperiu-”

“We never did such a thing! You were the ones who betrayed-”

The scream was much deeper, muted by an interrogator chaplain’s mask.

“Don’t you dare blame this on us! Coming back from Terra you were corrupted! Lord Luther himself foresaw-”

“He lied to you! The vile Traitor-”

“Call him a traitor again and I will-”

“What are you yelling about!? Can we have one civil conversation unlike  _ those  _ two!?”

The angry marines seemed to calm down, if only for a moment.

“So wait… If I get this right… we are all blaming each other on…  **_betraying_ ** the Imperium?”

An uncomfortable quiet came over them.

Emperor: “Are you-”  
Horus: “-fucking-”  
Magnus: “-kidding-”  
Sanguinius: “me…”  
Konrad: “Goodness gracious me, this can’t possibly be a real timeline can it?”  
Lorgar: “What did you just say Konrad?”  
Konrad: “What? What do you want?”  
Lorgar: “Uh… nothing.”

“You don’t mean to tell me that…”

“Oh… oh for fucks sake…”

“Ten millennia of fighting… straight down the fucking crappe-”

Roboute: “That is the absolute worst case of ‘Too long, did not read’ that I have ever seen.”  
Ferrus: *Rubbing eyes thoroughly while facepalming*  
Jaghatai: “An astonishing feat of failure.”

“Your two groups have been intermingled in a complex civil war over a miscommunication planted by chaotic forces.”

“Thank you for the obvious Lord Dorn!”

“Happy to help. I’m thinking of opening an advisory service.”

Rogal: *Wheeze*

“What the fook are you all doing up there!? What in the nine hells of Fenris are ye talking about!?” Leman roared up at the unseen group, who went quiet at the Primarch’s questions.

A marine in black and red power armour leaned over the ledge, looking directly at the Wolf King. “Lord Russ?! Is that you?"

The Wolf King’s face became the perfect example of confusion for just a second. “Who the hell else would I be ye- Ascaleon?! How in the wolfin hell are ye’ still alive!?”

“I uh… complex answer, Lord Russ.”

After a moment of fumbling around, the Space Marines inside of _the_ _Rock_ seemed to move aside as the lumbering form of Supreme Grand Master Azrael came out of the hole and landed on his feet besides the Wolf King.

Once the Grand Master noticed the Primarch he visibly recoiled, stepped back, took off his helmet, and bowed his head.

“My Lord Russ, I am Supreme Grand Master Azrael of the Dark Angels, you uh…” A light shade of red came to the Grand Masters face. “-uh… wouldn’t have happened to have seen where our gene-father went would you? He was… defenestrated. Violently.”

“And our brother.” Came a yell from the hole even as another black armoured Dark Angel dropped down in front of them.

“The two are having a…” The sounds of the clashing of swords rang out, along with a few expletives coming from both Lion and Gabriel in the background, both proclaiming their hatred of each other. “...disagreement.”

“Brother? Which one of Lion’s own genesons would have the wolfin balls to fight Lion?” Asked Leman, more confused than before.

The Grand Master and dark armoured figure looked toward each other, and slowly nodded once before speaking in unison.

“Not exactly gene-son.”

“What do yer wolfin’ mean by that?!” Demanded Leman, now angry with how out of hand this situation was getting and just how damned weird it was. Then Leman paused for a split second as the dots connected in his mind, painting a picture he was far from happy about. “Are yer two implyin-” Then the dots connected. “Oh for helvete’s sake… he did it? Really?”

Horus: “About as surprised as we were.”  
Lorgar: “Ours was arguably worse.”  
“No it-”  
“-wasn’t.”  
Emperor: “Shush boys, you’re special. Not everyone can know of the unknown like you two.”

*Twin grins*

The two power armoured figures nodded in unison.

“I uh… I just have had about enough of this for today. Where are the two so I can bash both of their skulls in before asking them for some answers and preppin’ the two for one hell of a pissed off Roboute?”

A fallen from above called out, “I can see them leaving the impact zone and making their way to-”

“-nevermind. We’re going to cut them off halfway into the City! Come pups, let’s go meet a couple of angry cats.”

“But what about the rest of the City? They are going to rampage straight through it!” Pointed out one of the neophytes to an already walking Leman.

“If yer wanna get in between the two before they have spent themselves yer welcome to! Can’t assure you of yer safety though.”

As Leman walked away one of the Elder Wolves looked toward the Grand Master and the black armoured marine.

“We have… urgent matters to discuss. We will join you once we are finished. And we might just have some questions of our own…  _ along with a few thorough slaps. _ ”

Horus: “Of course they do, I can’t believe this entire war with themselves was over… just…”  
Sanguinius: “I need a drink.”  
Leman: “I got some!”  
Sanguinius: “Preferably something that won’t kill me brother.”

The Elder wolf nodded and walked off after his brother.

**…**

**209.M42 - Emperor-Class Battleship -** **_The Ardent Will_ **

**…**

As Horus walked off, continuing to slash at and kill various Plague Marines, he finally came to the Khornate berzerkers. They proved to be much more capable enemies. Able to block and even parry some of Horus’ attacks.

But in the end, none were a match for the Primarchs fury and skill, his very genes making him faster than any of his opponents could handle. Horus fought like a whirlwind of death, any Chaos Marine that fell into his range dying eventually.

Horus: “Glad to see I’m still a maelstrom of death.”  
Roboute: “I hope that that will be enough…”  
Emperor: “Have faith Roboute, I am sure your son will be fin-”  
Roboute: “Please Father… don’t jinx it…”  
Magnus: “Since when are you the superstitious type?”  
Roboute: “The same moment Rogal started to throw wood at us.”  
Rogal: “Would you like some, father?”  
Emperor: “Nah, I’m fine.”

The Custodes meanwhile, danced in and out of Aegidus’ immediate view. Intervening with any Marine attempting to get closer to their Emperor. Desperately fighting back the Chaos Marines.

“How many more of the bastards are there?” Growled a Space Wolf that managed to get besides Aegidius.

“Only a dozen or so!” Hesitantly answered one of the Custodes.

“Good! Then we can move on to-”

The Space Wolf suddenly stopped speaking, his breath catching in his throat.

Magnus: “There it is.”  
Leman: “Fook’n hells…”

“Are you alright?” Asked Aegidius besides the Space Wolf, noticing the marines unnatural movement and sounds coming from him.

The Wolf reached up and tore off his helm, showing that his face had gone almost purple from lack of oxygen.

“Wha-what?!” Asked Aegidius, shocked at what he was seeing.

“Sorcery!” Shouted one of his Custodes even as he ushered Aegidius away. No sooner had he done so had the form of a warp tear appeared directly where the Space Wolf was standing, tearing apart the Marine and sending his limbs, entrails and pieces of power armour flying all across the bridge with incredibly force even as Aegidus’ mind was assaulted with images of daemons for a split second.

“Sorcerers!” Came a cry even as another Space Wolf threw himself at the Blue and gold armoured Space Marines who walked out of the portal, as calmly as if they were automata.

The Space Marines in question turned and fired upon the charging Space Wolf, hitting his armour. The Wolf appeared to take no notice as he barreled into them, cutting limbs and chunks of ceramite off of the enemy marines with his power axe.

Only for no blood or muscle to follow those flying limbs.

_ Rubrics… _

Though Aegidius to himself, he had read about them of course, everything was recorded in the forbidden tomes. But that would mean…

No sooner had Aegidius begun the thought that it was answered. Behind the Rubrics now came a sorcerer, wielding a staff that was sparking with lightning. Lightning that hit the Space Wolf who had charged in sooner and was not painfully frying him into ashes inside his own armour.

“Foolish wolves, ten thousand years and you have learned nothing.” Spoke the Sorcerer, advancing alongside his Rubrics.

“I am Arzar, sorcerer of the-”

“You are a traitor. Nothing more.” The Sorcerer's tirade was cut off as Bjorn in his massive Dreadnought form managed to sneak upon the Thousand Sons sorcerer in the chaos of combat.

Leman: “I love that pup.”  
Ferrus: “Not really a pup anymore.”  
Leman: “Well, he’s a pup now, so I can call him a pup.”  
Lorgar: “Isn’t he older than you now…?”  
Leman: “Details.”

Arzar turned and whipped his staff around, but it was far too late. Bjorn swung his thunder clawed hand, shearing the Sorcerer clean in half with the massive blades. Not giving the Rubrics time to engage him, he then brought up his already spinning rotary cannon, firing it with impeccable precision toward the Rubrics, falling many even as the remaining ones were destroyed by the Custodes and Space Wolves.

“More of them!” Pointed out a navy Arsmen as sure enough, more Rubrics began advancing from the portal. And as if the situation couldn’t get any worse…

“Black Legionaries!” Pointed out a Custodes.

The aforementioned Marines moved ahead of the Rubrics. Charging directly into the fray with some of the Custodes even as somewhere on the other part of the bridge, another boarding torpedo broke through and dropped its deadly cargo of Death Guard.

One of the Black Legionaries came for Aegidius, only to be stopped dead in his tracks.

Before Aegidius stood Horus, the Lion sword in his hand, its blade burning with the remains of traitor blood.

Horus: “God sword.”  
Leman: “Are yer’ gonna say that every time we see that damned blade up close?”  
Horus: “Yes.”  
Leman: “Alright, fair enough.”  
Perturabo: “How are you fine with that?”  
Leman: “It’s a damn good sword.”  
Perturabo: “Fair point.”

The Black Legionnaire gave a guffaw of laughter.

“Who are you? To think you can challenge me? A rag-tag beaten servant of the corpse Emperor who thinks himself a duelist?”

Horus merely raised the sword as an answer to the question, quickly reaching up and, just for a few seconds, removing his helmet.

For those few seconds, everything had gone quiet.

Horus: “...Well, that secret lasted long. At least it was just the traitors.”  
Rogal: “It lasted all of an hour at most.”  
Perturabo: *Smacks* “No. You were getting better.”

Every single attacker that came from the portal had gone as still as the void of space itself even as on the other side of the bridge a war was being fought and on the outside, tens of thousands of lives were being lost every minute.

Horus put back his helmet and charged at the still stunned Legionnaire. The marine barely having time to even register the attack before he lost his head.

That broke the spell, and the battle was on once again even as Horus turned to a Black Legionnaire dressed in terminator armour.

“You carry something of mine. I want it back.” He said before engaging the Terminator. The marine for his part, fired back with his combi-bolter and swung out with the thunder hammer that he carried in his left hand.

Both missed woefully as Horus got closer and sliced directly through the Terminators gorget, making the chunk of adamantium fall to the ground.

Horus two stepped around the Terminator, the Terminator's armour making it incredibly difficult to turn around and face the Primarch. But before he could even take a step, an incredible cry of pain came from his helmet's horned voxmitter.

Horus had driven his only armoured hand directly through the Terminators gorget, and into the marines neck-shoulder area. And then he began digging...

After a few incredibly painful seconds for the marine, Horus withdrew his hand, holding a strange pulsing mass…

“You never deserved this. And it shall never be used again, no matter who retrieves your worthless corpse.” Said the Primarch, even as he threw the mass onto the ground and stomped on it with his armoured boot. Squishing it into bits of organic matter before quickly swinging his sword in an arc which saw the Terminator's head cut clean off of his body.

Sanguinius: “You just ripped out his gene-seed.”  
Horus: “Dang. I just did that.”  
Emperor: “ _ Fatality _ **_._ ** ”  
Horus: “Yes, I suppose it is.”  
Malcador: “Ignore him, he’s just being a little shit again.”  
Horus: “How?”  
Emperor: “Remember that game I let Angron play?”  
Fulgrim: “Animal Crossing?”  
Emperor: “No, no, the other one.”  
Vulkan: “Cooking Mama?”  
Emperor: “The one with the blood.”  
Sanguinius: “Ohhhh that one. What about it?”  
Emperor: “I… Just… Never mind. A classic reference no one will ever get again.”

In yet another backlash of psychic power, the portal began expanding. Growing until even more chaos marines came through.

“Admiral! Seal off part of this bridge!” Came a cry from the Armsmen officer that Aegidius saw earlier. Maxson, that was his name.

It appeared as if the order had gone through, because not a second later had a massive wall of adamantium grown between the two zones of fire, covering Aegidus’ back from the Death Guard at the head of the bridge all the while, doing the same for Admiral Spire.

A Custodes fell before Aegidius, the result of extremely focused fire from over a dozen Rubrics and a sorcerer. Not even two seconds later had the Rubrics somehow closed in and were heading directly for Aegidius. Their bolt guns falling silent but still pointed at him.

_ What are they-They want me alive!? _

That realization sent him scrambling back even further, but no sooner had he begun walking back had he stumbled, falling to the floor even as he felt an incredible force assert itself into his mind… or rather… back into his mind.

**I am back.**

Never before had been Aegidius happier to hear his Grandfather's dispassionate tone even as the Rubrics advancing upon him were cut down by other Custodes.

Roboute: “Finally!”

_ Finally! What took you so long! _

**Don’t blame me child! Blame him!**

_ Who are you talking about?! _

**_That would be me._ **

Roboute: “Oh no, not more of you…”  
Emperor: “HEY!”  
Roboute: “All the offense taken.”  
Emperor: “It’s ‘no offense taken’.”  
Roboute: I know what I said.

_ Okay- who are you and why are you in my mind? _

**_Ah, sorry young one, I forgot that my Throne self here lost more than just his charisma when he cast me out into the warp._ **

**Oh please, I only did what was-**

**_Necessary, yes yes, we have had this conversation quite literally a thousand times just a moment ago. So sorry my boy, I have been known by many names-_ **

**He’s the Star Child.**

**_That is one way of breaking it to the poor boy._ **

_ You mean to tell me that I am sharing my soul with  _ **_multiples_ ** _ of you now!? _

Aegidius swore right then and there… his Grandfather was going to be the death of him… or was it Grandfathers now…? Before Aegidius could confront his Grandfather, or rather, Grandfathers about that very fact however, he suddenly realized something very peculiar. _ I… I can’t breathe… _

Emperor: “Oh boy.”  
Roboute: “What?”  
Emperor: “Um… In advance, I’m sorry.”  
Roboute: “What are you going to do!?”  
Magnus: *sinks into throne* “Oh boy…”  
Sanguinius: “That isn’t going to be… That’s going to be bad.”  
Lorgar: “Yeah, no.”  
Konrad: “Let the games begin.”

He fell to his knees, feeling an incredible headache growing even as his whole body began to feel bloated, spreading throughout his body as he was unable to stay standing, kneeling until he was on the floor, the sound around him going deaf.

**_Oh no… the effects are coming in faster than I thought._ **

**You swore to me there would be no problems. Now we have the boy choking to death on the floor.**

**_I did, however, I did not know you had done that to the poor boy! No wonder you were able to make him such a perfect host!_ **

_ Done… done what…  _ Aegidius thought even as he desperately struggled for a breath.

**Irrelevant now. Your body will die before-**

**_Not if I do the same._ **

**What!? No! You cannot stay, that would require-**

**_It would._ **

**You… you tricked me!**

**_And you me, but if you want the poor boy to live, this is the only way now._ **

**No! Siphon yourself off!**

Roboute: “Are you honestly having an argument with yourself while Aegidius is having a seizure on the floor!?”  
Emperor: “This is the future me, Roboute, I wouldn’t do that now!”  
Malcador: “Before you refused, I wouldn’t put it past you, Revelation.”  
Emperor: “You’re not helping, mal.”  
Vulkan: “I don’t want to watch this anymore.”

Aegidius felt as if he was having a full body seizure, his entire body shaking even as it violently bloated and his mind felt more and more confused by the moment. It saw things he knew he never saw before, images of pain, of discovery, of himself seated on a throne, another leading an army of Custodes, one where he stood in some lab with many tubes-

Meanwhile, as the family is watching in horror, The Emperor sat upon his throne in shock. Shock not just what was going on in the vid, but shocked that he was also feeling something. It started as a dull ache in his mind and even plenty of moments before where it felt as if he was watching here and there.

But now, with Aegidius on the ground, he saw it as well. He began to feel the effects of this event as well, seeing images of the child before him. Moments of first walking, his first words, chasing through the Fortress of Hera, the embrace of his mother, more and more, they began to flood his mind. Unknown to him, he began to shed a few tears as he continued to watch.

**_No time for that. Don’t you think it is time? Over ten millennia of this and you still haven’t learned._ **

**You… you- we talked about this!**

**_No choice now my old self… what do you say?_ **

**And you dare to call me the heartless one.**

Aegidius felt the last of his breath leaving his body.

**So be it… do it.**

**_Hold on Aegidius! I will be quick, you weave his body I weave his soul, you were always better at that._ **

For a second, for that very delightful second, Aegidius felt just fine. He could breathe, his body felt more balanced than ever. And he noticed the fight going on all around him, his fit ignored or completely unseen by most, the Custodes gathering around him and forming a large ring. Pupponius was kneeling by him, saying  _ something  _ to him, it was muffled and sounded as if he was speaking to him through multiple layers of glass.

Then he felt as if a mountain came crashing down directly upon his soul. Even then, that was too little of weight and a meek description of the pain that cascaded over him.

Malcador: “There it is.”  
Magnus: “Oh no.”  
Roboute: “There is what!?”  
Malcador: “Aegidius is going through a soul binding.”  
Roboute: “What.”  
Magnus: “The most excruciating event anyone alive or dead can ever experience. Father can explain it better, right Fa…”

*Everyone turns to the Emperor, who is sitting still as he watches the screen, body slightly trembling*

Magnus: “Father!?”  
Leman: “What’s going on!?”  
Konrad: “I think Father might just be stuck in a desperate vision.”  
Ferrus: “Magos! Turn the vid off!”  
Lehm: “I am trying, but it won’t stop or turn off!”  
Malcador: “Everyone get back!”

*Thrones evacuated, they stand behind them, waiting for what was going to happen, while the Magos attempts to turn the vid off*

He felt as all of his muscles began to twitch even as his very soul was torn apart and for the first time since he could remember he cried from actual physical pain even as he let out a gut wrenching scream to match. His scream echoed through the ship, echoed inside his mind, the pain being the worst he would have never imagined could even exist. The visions began to physically burn his mind, a burning sensation as if a sun had ignited into his mind and made him stand in the middle of it all.

At the same time, the present Emperor let out his own matching roar, his own body filling with light as the boy screamed and his elder ground his teeth together, enduring the same pain he has felt before in this moment. The memories of not just Aegidius burning into his own memory, but something else was attempting to connect with him as well. The visions of other Emperors were entering his mind, for just a second-

All around Aegidius in the future, the warriors fighting took notice. The chaos driven ones only fighting with renowned force and eagerness to see the offspring of Roboute Guilliman driven into such incredible pain even as another pair of Custodes knelt by their Emperor, desperately attempting to see what could be causing this. The Imperium driven ones fighting with renewed vigor, hoping to end this battle against time before they would lose yet another Emperor.

The sorcerers of the Thousand Sons however did not feel excited.

They felt no joy.

They felt  **fear** .

For they knew what was happening.

Aegidius felt as his twitching muscles now bulged out, stretched to their absolute limit, torn and forced to regrow almost a thousand times in but a few seconds in an act of incredible pain even as inside of him he felt as if a volcano had burst open, his own soul burning him as it began to glow brighter than ever before. The echoes of voices began to speak through him, visions of eyes and gazes were shown to him, a thousand different places of dark, noble, grim, bright, peace, chaos and everywhere else in between began to flash in his mind wildly.

Revelation began to have a vision of himself, walking with his sons down a flat parade path and showing them the visions of the future. A vision of himself continuing his path and ignoring the vids, going down a path that could have been prevented. The vision of himself as the God Emperor upon his throne, feeling nothing but contempt for his own subjects. The vision of himself, speaking again after many millennia and fixing his past mistakes. The visions of himself with entirely new Primarchs at a feast, celebrating something. The vision of himself being brought to life from the kiss of a Goddess… These were some of many Emperors that Revelation saw in this moment, a resonance building between him, them and Aegidius for only a few, excruciating seconds.

**_Almost…_ **

**I am finished.**

**_Hold on Aegidius!_ **

Horus: “Father!? Can you hear us!?”  
Magnus: “I don’t think he can! Being stuck in a vision is bad enough as it is, I don’t even know what’s going on anymore!”  
Roboute: “Father, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to get mad at you, I’m just-”  
Malcador: “Revelation! I need you to control yourself! Keep holding it in, or else all of us will suffer the consequences!”

Revelation didn’t respond, only continuing to endure the pain of this, but he would have told them all. Would have told them all that it was fine, he could endure, he could hold it in.

Aegidius’s body finally stopped pulsating even as he felt his soul reel back on itself. His vision spun, the sight of a lamb was staring at him, its eyes gone and instead leaking a golden fluid from them, the fleece of its body was sheared off and replaced with a black silk shawl wrapped around it. It bleated something to him, a sentence he couldn’t understand in the moment, before it was picked up by an aging man, a completely unremarkable man with no features he could point out. He gave him a smile before making a sign with his free hand over his mouth. The lamb cowed under the man, twisting inwardly until it was little more than a bleeding mass of concentrated fear. From the lamb, vines and flowers made of pure gold grew from its corpse, reaching around the man and hugging him with the twenty flowers in full bloom of beauty. The vision bled away as Aegidius continued to convulse on the floor.

Konrad: “Oh.”  
Corvus: “What ‘oh’!? Our Father is going through an incredibly fucked up vision and the Sigillite is telling us right here to brace for something and you’re just standing there looking at the screen!”  
Konrad: “...I have it figured out.”  
Vulkan: “Konrad, now is not the time to-”  
Konrad: “-that’s what it is, isn’t it? That’s how they came here… That’s… I see it now…” *For once, looks completely floored and shocked*

**_C_ ** _ o _ **_m_ ** _ p _ **_le_ ** _ t _ **_e_ ** _.  
_

Aegidius felt as his soul exploded in an incredible show of golden light. Growing quickly with each passing moment even as his eyes became virtual portals to the afterlife and his soul was hammered shut.

The present day viewing room of Primarchs then witnessed their Father let out a cry of pain as his body released all of the built up golden energy inside of him, letting the shining beacon blow past them harmlessly, leaving the Emperor gasping for breath on his throne, ignoring how the Primarchs were getting vox transmission from panicking about a light explosion in the newly made palace. Revelation waved a hand, telling all he was fine, collapsing on his throne and muttering about how, “It’s not that bad… It’s just a light year or two…”

Malcador: “Revelation? How do you feel?”  
Emperor: “...Like I just had a violent vision rock through my body and make me see not just myself, but Aegidius and… I don’t even know anymore. I feel like it was close to how bad a soul bind can get… Konrad, why are you curled up on the floor?”  
Konrad: “I have seen it all!”  
Emperor: “...Ah, he’s fine…”  
Sanguinius: “Aegidius! The vid is still playing!”

All around him they fought.

Horus, the Space Wolves, Bjorn, Lukas, the Custodes, the Armsmen. They were being slowly but surely cut down. The forces of the Black Legion outnumbering them almost ten to one.

Then they saw a light.

On their enemies grew a golden light the likes of which no living being had ever seen before.

Save for one.

“Father!” Screamed Horus even as he turned to face what looked like a pure mass of radiating golden energy. He quickly shielded his eyes even as he turned back around to face the Chaos Marines, only to find none of the former.

Before him stood what used to be the Death Guard. Now looking human even as all of the corruption fell off together with limbs and living creatures. The Rubrics before him no longer stood, falling to the ground as mere pieces of armour even as the Sorcerers accompanying them were pulled back into the warp, screaming in pain. The Black Legionnaires however, they burned until nothing but ashes remained of their former selves. And then the Death Guard let out their wail of pain, a cry of pure desperation. For the time realizing just what incredible amount of pain and misery they were in.

All the while, the light only continued to grow in intensity.

Outside, the light grew to such an incredible point that it burned directly through all of the corruption present on the various chaos ships, turning them into the rusted out hulks that they truly were.

The light was so intense, so pure, the Custodes around the light felt blessed, as if given gifts from the light. The light travelled so far, so quickly, that it travelled the entire sector in a manner of minutes before dying away. The people who lived in the sector, the ones travelling through and all who happened to look this way were greeted by a light so intense, so purifying, it shed away fear, corruption and left behind a hope renewed in the souls of all who were lucky enough to merely gaze upon it.

One in particular watched the light before it died away, feeling something he hadn’t felt in many millennia. The many millennia that passed away, hiding and forgetting the one who used to shed light such as this. Light that made him openly weep not just for the memories that crashed through his mind, but weep for the possibility that this light could have come from either rebirth and death. Rebirth the one who shed light and gave him life, but also the possible death of one who didn’t deserve his fate.

A father wept, for his child may be dead to let another live. And Guilliman knew deep down that he may have been too late. The hope that seated itself in his heart and soul, hope of humanity clawing their way out of the hole that was dug for their grave, the hope that not all was lost, the hope that maybe the one he cared for so much would still be alive, still be there. The light granted him hope, and he knew not if the hope was enough to make him continue trudging forward to save one, but knew that the hope would be enough to push him on for many more.

Then the light slowly retreated, leaving in its place a boy, ney, man with long flowing black hair and half-blue, half-golden eyes.

Aegidius stood three entire feet taller. His muscle mass almost doubled and outgrew his armour in the moments of agony, leaving only enough to cover his more delicate of areas. His mind felt stronger and more fortified than ever before, the visions of many lives he lived and not lived, along with the many who shared the same fate was fading from his mind, but the memories were still burned in him.

His entire body was shaking off what was left of the pain, leaving only a throbbing, dull ache from the onslaught, his vision returning and his hearing coming back as the reality around him returned.

_ That… that hurt. That was the worst experience of my life... _

**_Well, it is over now, sorry about that._ **

The armoured walls splitting off the bridge now began to be lifted, revealing that the light had gone far beyond to the young man, reducing the Death Guard into nothing more than rotting corpses.

But before him… well Aegidius had an entirely different problem…

_...Oh no, not more kneeling... _

Roboute: “...Aegidius… he…”

Horus: “He just-”  
Sanguinius: “That just happened.”  
Emperor: *Passed out on his throne, snoring like an old man*  
Malcador: *Whacks with staff*  
Emperor: “I am awake! Wha- ah Aegidius… that was one hell of a soul bind.”  
Lorgar: “He just exploded into light like in-”  
Konrad: *Still curled up in a ball on the floor*  
Roboute: “What… what happened to him? He looks so… different.”  
Magnus: “He just bound with such an extremely massive shard of father while father just fused with another part of himself. In order to even survive, father must have augmented him during the whole process.”  
Roboute: “Is he fine!? Will he be alright?”  
Emperor: “Calm yourself Roboute… Aegidius will be just fine, just very very tired. I am surprised he hasn’t-”

For Aegidius, the world suddenly felt very heavy, even as darkness finally took him into a dreamless sleep.

**A minor misstep, but still one in the right direction.**

Emperor: “There we go.”  
Roboute: “I have a lot of words for you, but right now… I’m done.”  
Magnus: “He will be fine brother… though this does leave many questions.”  
Lehm: “My lords, the vid is still playing.”  
Sanguinius: “Strange, it typically ends at this point.”  
Konrad: *Finally gotten up* “ _ What more can this thing possibly throw at us!?” _

**…**

**209.M42 - Macragge Magnas Civitas, _Macragge_**

**…**

Leman: “Back to Macragge then.”  
Sanguinius: “Hey! It’s my job to monologue these!”  
Leman: “I know, but it's me fightin! Honestly, I just want to do something after what just happened to Father. Cut us some slack.”  
Sanguinius: “Fine… That’s only because my sons are still freaking out over the light explosion.”  
Corvus: “I am receiving reports that some of mine and Konrads sons have gone temporarily  _ blind _ , from that by the way.”  
Vulkan: “I am sure it was only the ones far away my broth-”  
Corvus: “They were on the edge of the sector.”  
Vulkan: “Nevermind.”

“I know they came this way!” Julian remarked as the mismatched group sprinted down the mountains and followed the path of destruction left behind by the two warring demi-gods.

“What was yer first clue!? Was it the destroyed buildings, the impacts in the road or was it the sound of them yelling bloody fookin’ hell at each other!?” Leman shot back, dodging through the rubble left behind by his dueling brother. “Next rule of war, pup! Don’t point out the obvious!”

“Sorry, sir! Just thought I’d-”

“Maybe if yer stop yer yappin’, we’d catch them by now!”

The outer, older, parts of the city had looked like a complete wreck, the shockwaves of the impact from earlier had toppled countless walls and buildings, destruction was scattered everywhere with a perpetual cloud of dust over everything. Now, the city was getting a second beating as Lion was rampaging through the city rubble, fighting against what appeared to be another bout of barely held back violent Fatherly issues in the form of a marine who just so happens to be a Primechild!

Roboute: *Depression increasing*  
Leman: “Sorry about that brother.”  
Roboute: “It’s… it’s fine, I am used to it at this point.”

People of the city let them pass by, cold resignation on their faces at the sight of their city being destroyed yet again. From the daemon incursions, the battles and now what looks to be a violent space marine disagreement, the people were used to it by now. Some Eldar actually deigned to come out to help with the rebuilding efforts, not even sneering or having a bad word come from them, simply looking forward to the day when it would be the time for their part of the city to be finally renovated.

Roboute: “Just like them apparently…”  
Mortarion: “War is hell, but it breeds a hardy people.”  
Malcador: “Truer words haven’t been spoken for a long time.”  
Emperor: “I agree…” *Falling asleep again*

But at the moment, Leman didn’t care. He had to catch Lion and stop him from rampaging even further into the city. Roboute would already kill them for the damage done, it was just a question of how quick that attempt would be.

The sounds of battle reached Leman’s senses, and soon after, the sight of the Marine attacking his brother being thrown through a nearby building and landing near the chasing group. He groaned as he got up from his impact spot, ready to jump back into the fray as Leman thrust his sword in the way of the Marine, cutting him off from his return to battle. Mjalnar pointed with its sharp edge towards Gabriel, keeping him from moving away from his spot.

Malcador: *Pokes Emperor*  
Emperor: “Wha-what I’m awake!”  
Malcador: “You're gonna miss the best part.”

“Alright, listen here you little daddy issues riddled dendrophile! You get up from here, I won’t hesitate to kill yer before yer even know that yer head’s been sliced off from the rest of yer bottled up insanity!” Leman threatened, looking down on the Marine. Now that he really looked at him, yeah, that was definitely the son of Lion. The hair, the face, everything was Lion except for the eyes. Practically a clone, really. He barked at the neophytes, to train their weapons on him while the Wolf King got the chance to unleash millenia’s worth of insults. “If you even think of doing anything else to the pussy boy that’s my brother, I’m going to stomp on yer with my big fooking armored feet until there’s nothing left of your fooking prick! I’m gonna slice yer up into little pieces that you’d be considered kibble for all the little canids and corpse rations for the city! I’m gonna string you up by your prissy long hair and use you as my personal sandbag! I’m gonna punch you until there ain’t anything left of your sorry excuse of a sack of skin! I’ll use your fooking bone marrow as a war paint on my body for the next crusade!” At the moment, Gabriel was shocked into silence at Leman’s shouting, wondering who the hell this was and why he was yelling at him!? 

Jaghatai: “Wow, way to bring the hammer down brother.”  
Leman: “Comin’ from ye. That's as good a compliment as any.”  
Magnus: “I am quite sure that Gabriel’s entire soul just wanted to shrivel up and die after that.”

The heavens were smiling upon Leman at that moment, because Lion had burst through the same building that Gabriel had been thrown through. He stepped forward to keep up his assault, but was stopped by the hand of his Brother, who snapped Lion from his shroud of battle. “Leman, what are you-” Lion began to speak, but stopped when the Wolf King turned to his brother.

Emperor: “Round two!” *Fully awake now*  
Roboute: “Genuinely the best part of this vid.”  
Leman: “For once, we agree!”

“And you, you cat loving long haired piss stained wig wearing piece of shit. If you don’t stop right now, I’m going to shove my foot so far up your ass that your going to taste adamantium! Then I’m gonna flagelate you with my fuckin’ beard while taking that fancy thing ya call a sword and shove it right in between yer fucking fingernails! You better believe that you'll wish that father never bothered creating' ye, cause I'll make it seem like he never did! And just yer wait until I get my fooking wife here tah’ deal with yer! She’ll make what I’m gonna do into puppy kibble compared to the onslaught she’s gonna do!”

Fulgrim: “Yes Leman, sic your wife on them. It worked out so well with Lukas, I’m sure she could do something here.”  
Leman: “I’m not siccing my wife on them- and she’s not my wife so-”  
Magnus: “You two are practically married at this point, come off it.”  
Leman: “I don’t care, I got to give a proper Fenrisian verbal lashing at people.”  
Sanguinius: “Actually, now that I think about it… what’s happening with the other ones?”  
Magnus: “I am sure that some of these vids will explain that eventually.”

The nearby neophytes shivered from the verbal onslaught, the Wolf King getting like this was enough to get them nervous, but a full verbal smackdown made them uneasy and nearly faint. What kind of training exercise was this!?

Gabriel on the floor nearly puffed up in anger, “Hey! This has nothing to do with you! Get out of the way and let me kill this sorry sack of shit!”

“Oh, you won’t be able to kill me, boy! I’d kill you if I actually took you seriously!” Lion shot back, the two gazes caught together as a grinding came from the both of them.

“Both of you shut yer traps!” Leman roared for the last time, causing the two Demi-gods to look around them and notice something. Sure there were the Space Wolves that Leman had brought with him, along with what appeared to be neophytes. 

But what actually concerned the two was the sheer amount of Ultramarines around them. And even though all of them were wearing their helmets, they could swear that they heard what sounded like faint growling noises coming from them.

Father and Son began to realize that they were in a lot of trouble and that their fight would have to be saved for later. Lion took the chance to be the one with dignity in this moment. “I apologize for my disappointment of a son, and we-”

“Don’t you dare stand there and throw this all on me! You attacked me first!” Gabriel shouted from his position on the ground.

“You’re the one who insists on hounding me with some vain attempt on my life!” Lion shot back, ignoring how Leman’s face was coloring a deep shade of red.

“You’re the one who started all of this-”

**SMACK**

**SMACK**

The sound of two impacts on both Gabriel’s face and the back of Lion’s head sprung through the air, Mortarion being the one to knock out Lion from behind with a piece of the fallen rockrete wall nearby and Leman knocking out Gabriel by smacking the boy in the face with the flat side of Mjalnar. The two demi-gods knocked out, the chance to rebuild before Roboute would get back could finally commence.

The Family: *Comical stare at Mortarion*  
Mortarion: “Uh, yes?”  
The Family: *Stare intensifies*  
Mortarion: “What is it?”  
Emperor: “You are going to tell me that you don’t realize the shocking connection.”  
Mortarion: “Connection? Connection to what?”  
Magnus: “You smashing Lion over the head with your own throne back aboard the Bucephalus, and now… well.”  
Mortarion: “Ah… well it was entirely accidental.”  
Leman: “Entirely useful too.”

“Do I even want to know?” Asked Mortarion in a voice filled with disbelief.

All of the surrounding Space Wolves and Neophytes shook their heads.

“I thought so, let us get these two to the Fortress. Rogal is already drawing up a plan on how to fix this disaster before Roboute comes back and kills all of us for it.”

Leman just knew that they wouldn’t be able to do that before his Brother came back. Another headache was coming, and Russ decided that he needed a few strong drinks before dealing with those two again.

Roboute: “Leman.”  
Leman: “Yes?”  
Roboute: “I just watched the Rock fall onto Macragge, watched how Friedrich made Rogal almost die of laughter and show intense anger, I saw my own son get attacked by the Black Legion and a near impossibility of the Lion Sword fly through the warp and end up with Horus in the middle of a battle, then watched my son go through the most excruciating pain possible for anyone to ever go through while our Father went through a vision that made him explode into a show of light, and finally end with showing how nearly destroyed my planet is from everything.”  
Leman: “Yeah… that’s terrible.”  
Roboute: “Give me a fucking drink.”  
Leman: “I only got the fermented stuf-”  
Roboute: “Give. Me. A. Fucking. Drink.  **_Please…_ ** ”

The vid had been paused, all so alcohol could be ordered in after the family witnessed the absolute shitstorm that was the vid.

Leman called down some of his finest and hardest mjod, and were pleasantly surprised to not only get their mjod, but also Inwitian whiskey, Macraggian wine and Olympian wine.

Guilliman drank a hefty amount of everything and all was going fine, the Primarch of the Ultramarines appearing to finally calm his nerves.

That is until he got to the Olympian wine.

He took a glass of it, gently bringing it up to his nose before taking a small whiff of the aroma and taking a small sip.

Only to spit it out incredibly quickly afterwards.

“This… this is simply  **swill** .”

The Emperor nearby had been in the middle of enjoying the Inwitian whiskey, snorting it and choking when he heard Roboute say it. “Gah! Agh if up mah nose-!”

“Fucking beg your pardon!?” Perturabo swung his attention to Roboute, daring him to say it again. “I’ll have you know, Olympian wine is the best wine there is in this galaxy! Much more sophisticated than your Macraggian red!”

Guilliman glared angrily at his glass of ‘Superb’ quality Olympian white.

“If you consider this ‘sophisticated’ then I really don’t want to taste the standard quality one.”

Perturabo stopped breathing.

“Honestly, it is as if someone took the grapes and washed them.”

He was slowly getting redder.

“Then bottled the water he washed the grapes with.”

His eye developed an unnatural twitch.

“Then let it ferment in an unhygienic environment and called it wine.”

There was a snap, Perturabo standing to give Roboute-

“Both of these are simply meh.” Suddenly spoke Fulgrim.

“What?”

“What?”

“Both are simply… normal wine, there is nothing special about either ‘vintage’.” Finished Fulgrim, gently swirling around the Macraggian red and Olympian white in separate glasses. “Honestly, Chemosian Champagne isn’t much better either.”

“You-”

“But don’t take it personally brothers, I am much more of a whiskey person.” He finished, picking up his glass of freshly poured Inwitian whiskey, causing both Perturabo and Guilliman to relax slightly and the Emperor to quiet his choking streak even as Rogal gave a small, pleased smile at Fulgrim.

“Oh.” Once more said Fulgrim as he looked at his glass of whiskey, perplexed.

“What is it brother? Something the matter with the drink?” Asked Rogal in a worried tone.

“Oh no brother, simply missing a touch of ice.”

There was a long pause.

“What did you just say?” Came the voice of Rogal Dorn, sounding as if it was echoing from a wall.

“It is missing ice.” Said Fulgrim yet again, snapping his fingers as he held the glass up and a servant with a tray of ice came by.

“Don’t you dare.” Came a low grumble from Rogal.

“Honestly, brother! It's better like this.” Continued Fulgrim even as the servant very reluctantly dropped the tiny cube into the glass.

“See! It is far clearer! It will help bring out the taste- oh.”

Fulgrim carefully studied the glass.

“Another, please.” He said and held up the glass to the servant even as Rogal had to be restrained by a calmed Perturabo and the servant dropped the cube of ice into the glass.

“Ah!” Fulgrim sighed happily, even as he took a sip of it. “Quite nice, finely distilled and aged. Ironwood barrel I would say?” He spoke gently while looking at Rogal, who calmed down somewhat and gave a stiff nod. “Very nice indeed, however…” Fulgrim motioned another servant over.

“It requires some  **cream-** ”

Fulgrim was cut off as Rogal threw a 2x4 at his head at a blistering speed, barely able to dodge the flying timber even as it smashed against a wall, splintering into wood chips.

“You. Will. Not. Desecrate. That.  _ Drink _ .” Rogal ground out, looking Fulgrim directly in the eye, daring him to do anything else to such a fine drink.

Fulgrim couldn’t stop the bubble of laughter that came out, “Calm down, brother! I was teasing! What kind of a mad man would put cream in whiskey?” He said as he sat back up on his throne, sipping at his drink. After half a second, he quickly spoke out, “ _ Honestly I would have put in some diet _ **_-_ ** ”

Instantly he felt as Rogal’s hand gripped onto his shoulder like a wice.

“You will stop.” Said Rogal, in his completely normal, albeit, silent tone.

Fulgrim looked at him, his grin slowly getting wider even as he looked toward one of the servants.

“Diet Soda ple-”

“NOO-”

“Shut up you all and let's move on before this entire Imperium collapses in on itself from having zero personel in the management department!” Screamed Malcador, using his psychic powers to imbue his voice with a commanding presence.

There was a deep sigh from the Emperor even as the arguing primarchs had the decency to look ashamed. “Magos… play the vid.” Commanded the Emperor, deciding to not test out his 2nd in Commands limits. He was simply glad to have his Rum and coke.

**…**

**???.M?? - ???**

**...**

For a time, there was darkness.

Aegidius knew he wasn’t sleeping, he was sure of that. He felt nothing and everything at the same time. He heard what sounded like the cries of trillions upon trillions of beings. He heard some calling out, others go quietly, others… somewhere in between.

Time felt as if it passed far far quicker and at the same time, as if it had stopped entirely. Apparently it was anathema to wherever he was.

Magnus: “Father, where is he?”  
Emperor: “I… I don’t know.”

*Stares of collective shock*

Emperor: “No really, I don’t know, it looks familiar but… I never saw it before.”  
Horus: “Then let us watch and hopefully we will find out.”

“ **Awaken.** ”

The deep bass like rumble of a familiar voice shook him from his state and he gasped for air even as he awoke surrounded by nothing but the purest of white.

As his eyes flew open he attempted to stand, bracing himself on the white, textureless ‘ground’ and pushing himself to his feet.

Only to fly away like a bird, or perhaps there was no gravity in the first place. Whatever was the case, his mind screamed at him in incomprehension even as he struggled to get back to what he presumed was the ground. The feeling reminded him of his time when he would practice his abilities with Master Eldrad.

The realization finally hit him. A dream, this must be a dream or a vision of sorts…

With his realization, Aegidius focused on his body and feet to reemerge. Abruptly, he found himself standing tall on the ground, sure feet finding solid ground even though he could not feel it. The place he found himself in was too different compared to when he would dive into the Warp with Master Eldrad.

Magnus: “A metaphysical plane of existence?”  
Jaghatai: “One that is artificially created, judging by Aegidius’ interactions.”  
Emperor: “That is surprisingly… accurate.”  
Magnus: “You remember now father?”  
Emperor: “Yes but… no this… this was never the plan.”  
Malcador: “If it has gotten this dire, this bad…”  
Horus: “Father, Lord Sigillite, you are worrying us.”  
Emperor: “Do not worry Horus… we are learning from this future so it does not stay in our future, I am sure it will never come to this.”

“ **_I told you he would find his way, he is far smarter than you give him credit for._ ** ”

The voice that spoke was calm, polite, and had a certain air of warmth to it.

“ **I wouldn’t go so far as to call him smart. It still took him ages to even realise he needed to imagine himself a new body.** ”

By contrast, this voice was heavy, rough as sandpaper even as it missed certain vowels in its distinctly harsh tone.

However, he recognised the second voice far better.

“Where… where am I?” He spoke, deciding that no matter where this place existed, his voice still had a part in it.

**_“Where? Where my dear boy? Now that is hard to describe… even to one such as me it would-”_ **

**“Cease with your incessant coddling of the child!”** The harsher and more distinct voice of his Grandfather lectured the kinder one.

**_“It is the very least we can afford to him after everything that has happened in his life. Have you forgotten as to exactly why we were created in the first place? Why have we decided to merge yet again after so long apart?”_ **

Emperor: “I’d actually like to know that.”  
Malcador: “It’s probably _ that plan _ in action…”  
Emperor: “Most likely, but just need to wait to hear the confirmation…”  
Magnus: “I hate it when you do that.”  
Jaghatai: “Patience, all should be revealed.”  
Magnus: *nerdgrumble*

**“How could I forget?!”** The harsher toned one snapped back,  **“My entire existence is fraught with it. And look at where it has brought us! Failure. Desperation. The very edge of a catastrophe from which we could never recover!”**

The softer toned paused, then responded,  **_“All too true I suppose. We have lost everything we once held dear, from family, friends, loved ones to our truest followers. And yet, now here we stand, back in the place where we will all end. Do you not know this, Revelation? I have been nothing but kind to you, yet I can see that your second name holds a truer meaning to who you are now, isn’t that right Vindiction?”_ **

A growl came from the other Emperor.  **“Your meaning of kindness possesses no meaning in the galaxy that our Empire has been driven to. Like a starving, toothless, clawless beast, surviving on mere scraps. You stand there, accusing me of keeping it all together for ten millennia while you experimented here, creating, forming, moulding things far out of your control.”**

**_“And yet here we are. I need you.”_ **

**“And I you.”** The other spat in return. 

**_“We could argue about this for eternity my other self. You are older, but as we have found through our very long life, wisdom does not necessarily come with age. We have lent each other our powers countless times before. Now we may do so yet again, only… apart.”_ **

Distraught wasn’t describing the half of it… Aegidius could see nothing, nothing but pure white as far as his nonexistent eyes could see. He knew they were there, but was unable to find them.

“Calm down. Just need to calm down. Master Eldrad always taught that calmness begets good decisions...” He wrangled his senses, his tone one of desperation and fear bled into one that exudes calmness.

**_“Calm child, breathe.”_ ** Instructed the kinder Emperor, finally turning his attention to the child. **_“Focus on what you think exists, use your mind to form an image.”_ **

“I was. Please stop distracting me.” He knew what to do, he did not appreciate the second voice’s attempts to coddle him. He knew how to fix it himself.

Guilliman: “Is this what he’s like without his mood swings, his emotional blocks?”  
Emperor: “Possibly. We have always seen Aegidius in the throes of tantrums, out of control mood swings and so on. It is quite refreshing to see who he truly is here.”  
Magnus: “A young man who doesn’t need help and can control himself after all the training he has done over all this time.”  
Guilliman: “...a fair point.”

**_“You believe that you should be panicking, and thus you are. Imagine us. Imagine me, the Star Child, and imagine my other self.”_ **

The Star Child was correct. However… there was something else. He had no body. He had no true attachment, making the power of the immaterium flow far more gracefully and without a single hint of conflict through his mind.

“I am not panicking.” He answered smoothly. “I am in focus.”

**“Boy.”** The far harsher Emperor spoke.  **“We are on a very tight schedule and you wasting time will cause all of this to extend well beyond my capacity to endure such inanities.”**

“Fine!” The anger in Aegidius’ tone took even him by surprise, it didn’t sound like him, it didn’t feel like him but at the same time… the words were his, the feelings were his… “I am listening. Speak.”

Roboute: “I really don’t like that tone change.”  
Magnus: “It doesn’t sound human.”  
Emperor: “If they are where I think they are, this is either really bad, or nothing of note.”  
Guilliman: “I see.”

Aegidius held up a non-existent hand. “But first… where are we?  _ When  _ are we? It feels… so… different.”

**“So be it.”** Spoke a far harsher voice even as what appeared to be a rotting corpse slowly seeped into existence in front of him.

No… not a corpse.

“Grand… grandfather?” Slowly whispered Aegidius, the shock at the sight rendering him almost speechless, making the inquisitive part bleed away even as the scholarly side came forth.

“What...” He asked even as he looked toward his Grandfather. “Are you really even a lich?”

The hair had grown all the way across his back and was mangled, dirty and full of tears and knots. The hazel like compassionate eyes had completely rotted away, leaving bone like bottomless holes behind. What was left of the skin had turned brown and dried out almost completely, sticking to brittle like bone and seen throughout the holes where once beautiful clothing lay, now faded and torn almost completely.

Malcador: *Stares at Revelation* “...so this is how bad it got?”  
Emperor: “Pretty much. That’s apparently me after nearly dying, then sitting on the Golden Throne for over 10 millenia and rotting away.”  
Malcador: “...and this could have been avoided.”  
Emperor: “ _ Yes _ . It could have been avoided and it will be avoided this time.”

“You are… a corpse. Just as the Aeldari has claimed of you.” Realized Aegidius even as he slowly approached the one who shared his body.

Before he could reach said Emperor however, a hand lay upon his non-existent shoulder, causing him to turn.

“Unhand me.” Demanded Aegidius as the Star Child appeared in fullest.

**_“Aegidius.”_ ** The kinder Emperor spoke, his form vaguely resembling something human without features and made of pure light, his voice full of sadness.  **_“That… is me.”_ **

“What?” Asked Aegidius even as he once more looked over the corpse, far slower this time. “Grandfather…” He finally acknowledged even as the corpse had the decency to hang its head in shame before Aegidius looked back at the Star Child. “You are one in the same?”

**“I told you that this would be his reaction.”** Came the far more recognisable voice of his Grandfather from the corpse's tongueless mouth.

**_“And yet…”_ ** Slowly began the Star Child even as he released Aegidius.  **_“Tell me young one.”_ ** He continued to speak.  **_“Is this odd to you? Unexpected in some way?”_ **

“Unexpected? I suppose you could call this feeling such a term, yet I am still confused on how you two could be the same yet different.” The youngest of the three mused.

**_“Yes, when you look upon us as you do now, what do you feel?”_ **

“Hatred.” He thought then. Really truly thought about it as he slowly looked back and forth between the corpse and the Star Child. As his mind scanned through memory upon memory… “I… no…” He slowly began. “I feel… nothing… I once thought I would feel burning hatred for you, yet… I cannot. Not here. I feel little else than...” He paused, knowing that he wasn't afraid, more of… “I pity you. No wonder you're so… you.”

**_“Resilient, I believe is the word you are looking for dear child.”_ ** Slowly spoke the Star Child even as the corpse in front of them continued to hang his head in shame.  **_“He wasn’t that originally, he was destiny, the beacon of guidance and hope, the creator of all.”_ ** Continued speaking the far ‘nicer’ Emperor even as he strode to the corpses side.  **_“Now, after so much torture and worship, after so much soul consuming… he is-”_ **

**“Still the First.”** Spoke the corpse Emperor as he looked at the Star Child with those haunting hollow eyes.  **“I am the Carrion Lord of this Empire. I am the Iron Will of Mankind.”**

The being in front of Aegidius seethed in anger, fury seeping into a chant as of yet too quiet for Aegidius to hear.

**_“Blessed Father of Fury. Master Puppeteer of the Strings of Wrath. Grand Architect of Flesh and Mind.”_ ** The Star Child added on.

The chant of the other Emperor finally became loud enough to become clear to Aegidius. The voice echoing with age un-imaginable to Aegidius. The very fabric of the being before him seeped in pure energy.

**“I am Vengeance. I am Hatred. I am Spite.”** The being rose, growing upon a construct of countless golden stairs and writhing in unseen energy.  **“I am the Revelation… I am…”**

**_“Vindictus.”_ **

Magnus: “Is that what really fought Horus during the heresy and what brought Mortarion out of his corruption?”  
Emperor: “It is the twisting, torture and explotation of my own soul for millennia my sons.” *The Emperor sighed deeply* “Given enough time, humanity will always persevere. The simple question is merely that of what we are willing to sacrifice. And there are far worse fates than death.”

“And I have had you in my mind and body all my life. How did you do that? Why did you do it? Why was it me that had to deal with you in the first place?”

**“You were chosen.”** Vindictus spoke, his throne disappearing even as a corpse like finger pointed towards him.  **“As I have said before, and say yet again. Your life was never yours. Neither was your soul.”**

“That is not what I asked. Why me? Why me in particular?” The youngest asked once more, for the first time he wanted to get answers and not have his lich avoid it once more.

**_“Please Revelation. Give him a clear answer. Is all this plotting and scheming so necessary to be kept under wraps?”_ **

The other Emperor growled.  **“You are my greatest creation. I created your Father. I helped create** **_you_ ** **. Did you think with all seriousness that an offspring between an elevated Aeldari and a Primarch to be possible without some intervention? Your soul would be lost. Thrown into the abyss to scream and wallow for eternity were it not for me.”**

Aegidius simply stared. Without his body. Without the hormones and human or aeldari influence… the logic was far too sound to deny.

It didn’t mean he had to like it. “So I am neither Aeldari or human? That without your intervention… I would not have lived?”

The Star Child sighed.  **_“Correct.”_ **

**“You explain further to the boy! I am tired of these games!”**

**_“So be it. You see my grandson, you are unique in one way above all others. The very way in which you stand here right now. In your barest form. For lack of proper wording… your soul. What Vindictus did upon your birth is what he has become so very good at. He fused both parts of you together. Human and Aeldari and all the while...”_ **

“...I think I get it now. You allowed me to be born so you can perform some great scheme. And if what I’m getting from you, then it’s so you can come back, isn’t it? Come back and not be bound by any laws of the immaterium, answer to no one…” All the lessons with Master Eldrad were starting to make more sense now. “...to start anew.”

**“Correct.”** The Emperor ground out.

“...so what does that mean about me?” There was a sinking, desperate feeling building within him, as if a whispering doubt was manifesting itself within him.

**_“It is what makes you so special.”_ ** The Star Child put a hand around his non-existent body.  **_“It is your duty.”_ **

“No! Stop calling me special or important-” Aegidius shut down his anger, shut out his hysteria. “Stop it. You’re avoiding the question I’m really asking. What happens to me if your plan goes right? I have… an idea… but I want you to say it.”

**“Ascension.”**

**_“Indeed. For lack of a better word… you ascend to god-hood. The head of a new pantheon.”_ **

“You’re lying.” He didn’t know what he expected, asking for his Grandfather to just tell him the truth. “I know you’re lying, or at least not telling me the truth. I know it, you know it. If I ascend… that’s good for you. Not for me.”

The Star Child sighed.  **_“It is true. But-”_ **

**“So be it.”** Vindictus groaned.  **“Your body will die. Without my presence it will collapse, nothing will connect you to me anymore and you shall travel to…** **_not_ ** **the abyss…”**

**_“The afterlife.”_ ** The Star Child supplied.  **_“Of course there are other solution-”_ **

“But what if I don’t want to die? What if I have different ideas, dreams that don’t connect with yours? Why do you get to dictate what I can and can’t do with my own body, my own mind, my own soul? Why can’t you just pass on already!?” The anger seeped back in, frustration at the revelation he had been given. Despite knowing he was neither human nor Aeldari, there was still a very human part of him that was screaming injustice at this fate.

**“Because then you will fall!”** The sudden shout shook the plane of existence, causing Aegidius to take an evolutionary step back.  **“Humanity. The Aeldari. Existence! Everything shall be destroyed!”** The Emperor looked at him, directly into his eyes.  **“You would be responsible for the destruction of an entire species. You would die no matter what and be swallowed by the gaping abyss of Chaos.”**

The Emperor pulled back.  **“All death is inevitable for everyone living. The final step on the road of life. But there is salvation for the universe itself.”**

Aegidius seethed in place, angry and frustrated with the hand that was dealt to him. “Then answer me this,  _ grandfather _ .” The youngest let all of his hatred for his grandfather seep out of him, tainting the fabric around him. “Why? Why didn’t you just kill me to begin with? Why did you let me live and experience and do so much? Your end goal is for me to die, so why not just spare me the mercy of never knowing any of this?  **_Why!?_ ** ”

**_“He is still your grandfather.”_ ** The Star Child counseled even as Revelation looked away.  **_“Somewhere inside of that husk is the being which once called himself the father of your father. The very thing that prevented him from falling Horus in the first place. The same thing that made him keep you alive.”_ **

“He is still going to kill me- you are- both of you are going to kill me one day all so you can come back and rule or reign or…” His mind was exhausted from the revelations, exhausted from the back and forth between him and the godly beings that resided in his mind. “That isn’t love. That’s cruelty.”

**“With sorrow or elation. With contempt or pride. With ridicule or acclaim. With brutality or kindness. None matters to the ultimate destiny. Aegidius Guilliman, host of the Master of Mankind, fate of the living and dead. Your duty is not your choice. So it is... that you sekeeth salvation.”**

**_“As it was given unto mankind so long ago by the ancient ones. So it is given unto you now. Yet your mind is young. It seeks to understand what it can not. Hopefully, one day in this long future… it shall. And until then, we shan’t stop with the promise of an ascension where you shall remain… cognitive.”_ **

“...You just want to switch places.” Aegidius let the hatred and anger inside of him ebb away. “I’m done. I’m done arguing with you. Why should I bother arguing when I don’t have a choice anyway? If I… If I don’t accept this, if I don’t do this, then…” The youngest thought back to his Father, his uncles, his cousins… He didn’t have the best relationship with all of them, even being downright cruel at times…

“You’ll just find someone else to abuse. Someone else’s strings to pull.”

**“It is what must be done. No matter what label you decide to print on it.”**

**_“I truly understand why you feel this way, but I agree with Vindictus here. It’s for the best, dear boy. I’m sorry you feel this way, but remember: it’s for the best for everyone.”_ **

Magnus: “Wow. Just when I believe you can’t be a bigger asshole, you somehow break through and prove me wrong.”  
Emperor: “Oh, here we go…”  
Horus: “Are you sure these aren’t you? Are you sure you’re not really like this?”  
Emperor: “ArE yOu SuRe YoU’rE nOt ReAlLy LiKe ThIs?”  
Malcador: *Groaning*  
Emperor: “How about the two of you stop being massive hypocrites and really think about what you are accusing me of!? This is in the same vein as every single one of you going apeshit on Horus when we learned about his betrayal in the future!”  
Magnus: “Oh so like you accusing me of destroying the webway which I did not do here?”  
Emperor: “That was a completely different situation!”  
Malcador: “Oh for the love of everything that is fucking holy, all of you shut up!”

*Entire family stares in shock*

Malcador: “Are you all so blind as to not see that you are all simply being massive hypocrites!? Pointing fingers and blaming each other over the same things which are pointless to blame each other about in the first place I…. I…” *Sighs deeply and reaches into his robes, pulling out a data-slate and beginning to type vigorously.* “Just continue the vid.”

Aegidius let out a sigh. “So… what is next?”

The Star Child smiled, spreading out his arms as if he was about to direct an orchestra.  **_“We reconnect.”_ **

Suddenly, in front of them, as far as Aegidius could hope to see, shapes appeared. All appearing human even as some floated by the mainstream heading in one direction. Wispy and ethereal, yet still grounded.

“Souls.” Aegidius spoke aloud.

The Primarchs: “What!?”  
Lorgar: *violently gesturing to the screen* “God?”  
Emperor: “Just watch… if you don’t, then I am banishing you to the library for the next decade.”

“Where is this?” Aegidius finally asked again. “You never did answer when I first asked.”

**_“We are in the Interim. Neither in death.”_ ** Spoke the Star Child.  **“Nor in life.”** Finished Revelation.

“So, those souls are on their way to what? The afterlife? I thought humanity had none, and the Eldar lost theirs after the birth of Slaanesh.”

**_“For a long time there was none.”_ ** Explained the Star Child.  **“But all of those souls could not be allowed to simply roam freely.”** Finished Revelation.

“So what? You  _ created  _ an afterlife?”

**“In the way one can craft a metaphysical plane of existence.”** Grumbled Vindictus.

The Primarchs: **_“What?!”  
_** Emperor: “You all honestly shouldn’t be surprised by this point.”  
Lorgar: “You crafted a literal afterlife for humanity! How does that not make you a go-”  
Emperor: “Call me a god again young man and I will raise that banishment to a century! Just watch, I am sure that the future me will explain at one point or another.”  
Konrad: “Then why don’t you do it?”  
Emperor: “Because even I don’t understand it fully.”

“This must have… this must have taken millennia…” Slowly spoke Aegidius, the fact that the Emperor must have mostly made the human afterlife out of necessity rather than mercy and compassion not being completely lost on him.

**_“11,181 years, to be exact.”_ ** Answered the Star Child.

“Wait… didn’t you ascend and then ‘die’ in…” Aegidius’ mind slowly pieced things together. “You didn’t.”

Guilliman: “Oh…”  
Ferrus: “This is making an uncomfortable amount of sense.”  
Mortarion: “It really is… father planned for this.”  
Emperor: “I uh, wouldn’t say ‘planned’ is the best word.”

**“I did.”** Spoke the corpse with what most likely would have been a small smile if his body would be capable of doing such.  **“We simply needed a spark to light it, as sad as it was, we could not do so with one of us stuck on the throne… but such wasn’t always the plan.”**

“What then? What possibly could it have been?”

**_“Allow me to tell you, with a story. You see… when Horus was corrupted and Magnus destroyed what was our main plan, we had to improvise.”_ ** Said the Star Child with a light smile of his own.

“Improvise?”

**“Building this place took even longer than we expected it would, we needed time. Time for it to be finished, the Old Ones left merely scraps of their webway designs.”**

“But the webway was built already, collapsing yes but… couldn’t you have…” Started Aegidius even as the truth dawned on him. “You never merely planned to lift humanity to a completely psychic species, you planned on lifting the entirety of mankind to an entire new plane of existence, hidden even beyond the webway.”

Magnus: “Wow… you really…”  
Emperor: “Yes, yet another reason why I am not a god. I seek to raise the entirety of humanity not to only further myself.”

The Star Child’s grin now became a full on smile even as he chuckled and looked toward Revelation. **_“You see? The boy is far smarter than his age.”_ **

**“Yes yes, getting back on track.”** Said Vindictus.  **“That was the plan yes, it was going marvelously as well… that is until Magnus…”** The corpse stopped, seemingly unable to finish the sentence.

**_“Destroyed it.”_ ** Finished the Star Child, the barest fraction of pity heard in his voice.  **_“By destroying it, Magnus did not just eliminate a new way to fast travel anywhere across the galaxy. He destroyed the biggest chance humanity had for a relatively peaceful ascension.”_ ** The Star Child’s voice oozed regret and sadness at every spoken word then. His past coming back to haunt him in full.

Magnus: *Flinches*  
Malcador: “If I wouldn’t have already been informed about this I would be furious at the moment.”  
Magnus: “I apologize Lord Sigillite… I really, really do-”  
Malcador: “Make sure it doesn't happen here.”

**“We needed to move fast.”** Intervened Vindictus.  **“Move quickly if there was to be any chance at all.”**

**_“And so we sent for Magnus to be brought to Terra as quickly as possible. We needed his help you see, help to begin crafting… well, this.”_ **

The Star Child motioned all around him.

**“But we were too late.”** Spoke Vindictus again.  **“Chaos had already corrupted Horus.”** Spat the corpse even as his voice lowered to the barest of a whisper.  **“He did not deserve such an end...”**

Horus: *Progressively depressive face*

**_“And thus, all of our plans slowly began falling apart.”_ ** Started the Star Child. **_“We needed more time, this project would take far longer now that we were on our own.”_ **

“But the heresy stopped it no?”

**“Not completely.”** Clarified Revelation.  **“We were able to use what research we had on the webway to begin crafting. There were various degrees of success…”**

He finished with a grumble, clearly not liking where this was going.

**_“At the beginning we were able to only summon the souls of those closest to us. Due to them being linked directly with our own soul.”_ ** Said the Star Child.  **_“But then, well then came the Imperial Creed.”_ **

“Basics…” Whispered Aegidius. “Believe in it hard enough, and the warp makes it into a reality. Especially so if one is a highly sensitive being such as yourself.”

Lorgar: “There, see-!”  
Emperor: “Wait for it.”

**_“Yes and no.”_ ** Continued the Star Child.  **_“Not real per say, but it makes the connection come… closer to the matterium.”_ **

**“Thus allowing us to bestow the tiniest of the tiniest fragments of our soul upon those closest to us, but not via a completely direct soul link.”** Finished Revelation.

“Living Saints?” Slowly asked Aegidius. “The Legion of the Damned.”

**_“Exactly!”_ ** Happily spoke the Star Child.  **_“We were able to imbue them with our essence, transforming them into what could be vaguely translated as our ‘daemons’.”_ **

Lorgar: “What?!”

**“Slowly we expanded outwards, attempting to reach further.”** Began Revelation.

**_“The Legion of the Damned. Hard to summon into reality due to them always being incorporeal and mere figmented creations of our mind, and even harder to create, but possible nonetheless.”_ **

**“That is why they appear only where the battle is proving most desperate. Not by our choice, but because that is where the barrier between the Empyrean and Reality is at its thinnest.”**

Lorgar: “ **WHAT?!** ”

“That makes…” Slowly mused Aegidius. “An uncomfortable amount of sense…”

**_“It does.”_ ** Spoke the Star Child.  **_“We were never a god.”_ **

**“Never will be.”** Grumbled Revelation.

“But we are the Emperor of Mankind.” They spoke in unison. “And we shall continue to lead humanity until either its dying day, or until it needs us no longer.”

Lorgar: *Slumps down in chair* “Father… I am sorry… and I hate you…”  
Emperor: *Sly grin* “Thank you sonny, now just learn to trust your daddy when he tells you about something he has far more experience with.”  
Magnus: “Did you just fucking call yourself daddy?”

**_“Though the latter part seems highly unlikely now.”_ ** Spoke the Star Child.  **_“We had once hoped that that would not be the case. No longer.”_ **

**“The Primarchs, the Space Marines, they will always be necessary so long as Chaos exists.”** Explained Revelation.

“And what is your plan now?” Asked Aegidius, taking it all in stride.

**“The Resurgence of humanity.”** Spoke Revelation.  **“As much as it pains me to admit this, Horus’ corruption was a valuable lesson. One that those tumors upon reality will come to regret with time.”**

**_“We must gather more of our soul, using you my boy. You are our greatest hope as we have explained, the shepherd of our will as to say.”_ ** Spoke the Star Child.  **_“With at least one more greater shard of us, mankind would once more have a fighting chance.”_ **

Guilliman: “Oh great, using my son as a pack mule now.”  
Emperor: “He’s not a ‘pack-mule’ just… Carrying us around to help with their plan?”  
Guilliman: “That’s a pack-mule.”  
Emperor: “...well… You make it sound like being a pack-mule is-”  
Guilliman: “Just stop talking.”

**_“This afterlife will eventually, in many many years time allow for humanity to ascend forward, even further then the Warp itself.”_ **

**“But that is far far away from being achieved. Right now, our goals now must be far more basic, much more primitive.”**

“What is primitive about gathering souls?” Asked Aegidius, concerned at just how much of this was possibly flying over his head.

**_“We know where the soul is. You do too in fact, you are simply not strong enough to fuse with it, not yet.”_ ** Said the Star Child as he hung a comforting hand around his shoulders even as Aegidius slumped down. The weight of his duty hitting him with full force once again.

Aegidius thought then. “How, where?” He asked bemusedly. “You never revealed to me that you even  _ had  _ multiple souls, much less ones stored somewhere.”

Guilliman: “Oh yes, about  **_that_ ** .”  
Emperor: “Future me has apologized countless times son, and I am not the same as they are.”  
Guilliman: *Logical grumble*

**_“Oh, but Revelation did. In his own crude fashion he even attempted to prepare you for it.”_ ** Slowly spoke the Star Child even as Aegidius thought further.

“Prepared me for it? Prepared me for what? Other than war and growing up the only thing he has been preparing me for is the corona-” He stopped speaking. His mind catching up in an instant. “The laurel… your laurel contains a massive fragment of your soul doesn't it?” He whispered even as the Star Child smiled yet again.

**_“It does. The one most fitting for this next great step for humanity.”_ **

Guilliman: “Oh no. No, no, no. No. You’re going to shove another version of you in him!?”  
Emperor: “It’s not  _ my  _ idea, per se, just future asshole me.”  
Guilliman: “He’s already close to the edge with just having the two there, a third might just completely take over his entire self!” *Stops and realizes* “...Oh no…” *Sares at the screen, hoping he isn't right*

**“Our warrior spirit. Our ambition and our…** **_hope_ ** **.”** Ground out Revelation.  **“** **_That_ ** **is what the laurel contains. And lest you are ready, you will be drowned by it. Like a candle going out in the-”**

**_“Revelation! I think the boy has proven his strength of will enough, don’t you?”_ ** Cut in the Star Child, even as he glared daggers toward the corpse.

Guilliman: “...yes, yes that’s correct. Aegidius is strong, he’s just young. By the time the third comes, he’ll be strong enough to still have his own mind and not be taken over. He’s fine, just needs time.”  
Emperor: “Exactly! Just calm down and wait. Everything will be fine.”  
Malcador: “He does know what he’s doing, you know.”

“I… I hope so…” Slowly spoke Aegidius, all of this being far too much for him. “What… what now?”

**_“Now, we rebuild. With Revelation here finally deciding that bonding with me again is beneficial, you have a much stronger connection to the warp.”_ **

**“That is an understatement if I ever heard one.”** Grumbled Revelation.

**_“We have a lot of work to do up here. Which I believe is good news for you, you finally get some of your privacy back!”_ **

**“Only when we aren’t present…”** Grumbled Revelation.

**_“Which admittedly will be rare but still.”_ **

“I… fine. I’m going to have two of you in my mind, and have to listen to both of you argue. What’s the point… It’s not like I get much of a choice in this so, fine, fuck it.”

**_“Are you sure that you are-”_ **

“Send me back right now. I can not stand being in the same space as you two any longer! And I am seeing things I really do not want to at this moment.” Aegidius yelled, the frustration coming to full fruition even as in front of him he spotted the many blackened warriors of the Legion of the Damned even as the countless saints of Imperial History flew gracefully above them and a far too familiar looking Custodes looked back at him from the stream of souls.

Horus: “...Now that I think about it, didn’t most of us have this same line of thought when working with Father?”  
Mortarion: “I was kinda dragged off after getting my revenge stolen? I’m not as bitter about it anymore, but… ok.”  
Konrad: “You all had choices?”  
Malcador: “Angron isn’t here, so I can speak up for him.”  
Perturabo: “I signed on thinking I was going to be building non stop. Imagine my shock when I was given nothing but trench warfare and being the Imperium’s, quote en quote from Father himself, ‘the Kool-Aid Guy’ and even potrayed by all of the propaganda as quite literally a fucking wrecking ball.”  
Horus: “To be fair brother, you had a lot of chances to take away that title from the remembrancers.”  
Perturabo: “What?”  
Horus: “Well, I gave you plenty of garrison duty in order to give you time for building things and even leave back to Olympia to make it into what you envisioned but…”  
Perturabo: “Oh… So… All of my time being bitter… Was it just my own doing?”  
Fulgrim: “Your visions were beautiful, but your soul has… what’s the word…”  
Rogal: “Gone as stale as spilled milk and has rotten into nothingness, corrupting Perturabo’s original duty. But he is an excellent master of siege warfare.”  
Perturabo: “I… I kind of don’t want that but at the same time… it’s a compliment… from you… and it’s sort of accurate and… I am going to take a trip back to Olympia ASAP.”  
Emperor: “I think we can talk more about this sometime late-”  
Malcador: *Old man scowling look at his best bro*  
Emperor: “...-Right after the War Council meeting. Anyway, Magos, unpause.”

**_“Done!”_ ** Quickly spoke the Star Child as he snapped his fingers and everything faded to black.

…

**209.M42** \- North-Western border -  _ Macragge's Honour _

…

Sanguinius: “Oh! Great, we should be seeing Roboute soon.”  
Malcador: “You say as soon as the scene changes.”  
Sanguinius: “...hush please.”

_ “All personnel, all personnel. Prepare for transition to real-space. All crews, man your battlestations! We are exiting in a hostile warzone! Prepare for immediate engagement, all Aeronautica personnel to your fighters. By the throne, for Terra, for the Emperor!” _

The entire crew and complement of Astartes aboard the Gloriana and escorting lesser ships ran to their assigned stations. The pilots of the multiple fighter and bomber wings quickly suited up even as their craft went through the awakening of their machine spirits, rights of ignition and countless pre-flight checks.

The Astartes for their part marched in a slower and more orderly fashion toward various boarding vessels, the squealing sound of Thunderhawk and Overlord engines powering up was soon heard all across the main hangars even as countless boarding torpedoes ground up their massive boring heads in preparation for potential use.

Their commander all the while, Roboute Guilliman, sat on the command throne on the Glorianas bridge, his calm, disciplined demeanor effecting everyone nearby to try their hardest and keep a calm, level head while doing so.

Even though internally, Guilliman was screaming with worry for his son. But he could not afford to show it, not even for a second could one doubt the integrity of the Lord Commander, the drop in morale would be fatal…

Leman: “Ye know, ever since we started watchin’ these vids, you’ve been gettin more unhinged every day. You’ve never done this before.”  
Roboute: “What are you talking about? I always internally freak out over everything.”  
Leman: “Wot”  
Roboute: “It’s true! I freak out and panic horribly about anything that goes wrong! I let it happen for a few seconds, then I let it pass and focus on the goal. Unlike you of course.”  
Leman: “For helvetes sake, what do yer mean by that!?”  
Rogal: “He means that even though externally, you present an extremely tough, unbreakable bulwark of wolven musculature, internally you are very unsure of yourself and constantly doubting everything you ever did.”

*Shocked stares*

Rogal: “I know the feeling brother. It passes. With time.”  
Emperor: “Wow… that was a surprisingly decent description. I’m glad all of you are getting comfortable enough to finally talk about your feelings like this.”  
Leman: “Moving on.”  
Magnus: “Don’t you want to talk about-”  
Leman: “Unpause the frackin vid!”

In the hangar the various forces began to board their designated vessels. The pilots entered their fighters and assimilated themselves with their crafts even as the Astartes who marched up the ramps of various Thunderhawks and Overlords began the endless ritual of checking and re-checking their weapons and armour all the while going over any potential scenario in the HUD’s of their helmets.

_ “All personnel, all personnel. Brace for warp exit! Brace for warp exit!” _

The booming voice cut off even as the massive battleship shuddered under the uncaring currents of the warp as it was spat back out into realspace.

_ “All craft, all craft designated for battle readiness. Green light, green light! Engage the enemy at will.” _

As the fighters, bombers and transports began taking off, a group of three golden armoured Custodes stood watching out of a nearby viewport.

Emperor: “Oh for fucks sake! No. Nonono-”  
Malcador: “What is wrong with you?”  
Konrad: *Already pulling out the sunglasses he got from the first exposure*  
Horus: “Father? Are you finally going delusional in your old age?”  
Emperor: “What!? No! Don’t you recognise those… those…  _ abominations _ !?”  
Horus: “Uh, no, obviously not.”

“Nasty place this isn’t it?”

Magnus: “Wait… that voice…”

“You have been saying that about everything since we left the palace.”

“Doesn't make me any less right.”

Magnus: “Wait. He is not!” *Sudden memories and PTSD about a  _ certain event _ *

“Ah, I think it’s a wonderful spot! Just far away enough from all of the normals and close enough to all of the very deadly minefields to make the bad ones go away!”

Sanguinius: “He sounds familiar, even that part of normals and… wait a minute.” *pauses and thinks a bit before pointing at the screen* “it’s them!”  
Magnus: “I knew it! I wouldn’t forget about that one custodes who wanted to… ugh…”

“Your brain still isn’t normal, is it brother?”

“Ahh why do you say that?! It's perfectly fine!”

“Ever since we forced your armour back onto you, you have been acting-”

“Completely fine! I am fine! Anyway, why aren’t we out there killing the bad ones again?”

Guilliman: “The… the bad ones?”  
Corvus: “Father… any chance these Custodes might have been… corrupted?”  
Emperor: “Corrupted? No. Mindfucked into oblivionic warp and back? Yeah, totally.”  
Guilliman: “They are way too close to Aegidius for my liking…”  
Leman: “They aren’t on the same bloody ship eve-”  
Rogal: “These unneutered ones are far too close to Friedrich for my liking.”  
Leman: “But… he is half of the-”  
Mortarion: “They are far too close to Sairus for my liking.”  
Leman: “I give up.”

“We are the Lord Commanders escort, don’t you remember?”

“Yes yes, but our glorious overlord is  **there** ! And we are  **here** !”

“Fair point…”

“M’yes. Fair points… say, I see a little boarding ram that is definitely not in use over there…”

“Now we are talking!”

“It’s going to be just like Ullanor all over again! Except with less orks and window breaking. And look, they have little pictures on how to use it.”

Horus: *Sudden shudder* “Why the hell did I react like that?”

“I told you! I can read! I have learned!”

“No you haven’t. The flight from Terra to Macragge wasn’t long enough for you to learn. I’m sure you haven’t even gotten past ‘A’ in the ‘Dummies Guide for Speakers of Low Gothic to High Gothic 4th Edition’ book we got you.”

“We should have given him 9th Edition, it was terrible but it was streamlined so well that even the disgusting  _ normals  _ could get it.”

Malcador: “Well, I can see why they would be unpleasant but-” *Looks over at Emperor who is currently violently rocking back and forth* “I will ask later for details.”  
Everyone else in the room:  **“No.”**

**…**

**209.M42 - Emperor-Class Battleship - _The Ardent Will_**

**…**

Sanguinius: “Please yes, I don’t want to see those three again…”

He woke with a gasping breath, his surroundings bleeding into his vision as the black spots at the edges finally started to dance away from him. The young Emperor registered the dull ache all through his body, the remnants of his violent encounter with his Grandfather.

_ Lich? _ He called out mentally as he sat up, trying to piece together everything around him.

**_Yes, I am here!_ **

**And so am I.**

Roboute: “...So. Father. There are two of you now. And look what they did.”  
Emperor: “How very astute of you Roboute.”  
Roboute: “...are we going to receive an explanation?”  
Emperor: “Better not for the time being, I believe.”  
Roboute: “Ok. Why?”  
Emperor: “The vid will explain.”  
Roboute: “But-”  
Emperor: “The vid. Will… _ explain. _ ” *Slowly losing sanity* 

The young man internally sighed. He knew what he agreed to and now he was going to have to deal with the ramifications of said deal.  _ So I guess you two are just going to be a constant in my mind now? Much like the Lich? _

**_Sadly, yes. However, I believe we can all come to a mutual agreement. A little redecorating here, a bit of compromise there… Well, you wouldn’t want to step on any toes, now would you, dear boy?_ **

**So long as you keep to the contract you signed, it’s going to be fine.**

_...contract-? Wha- nevermind. A verbal contract is just as binding I suppose… _

**You probably should stop arguing with us, gather your wits and focus on our subjects instead.**

The Lich made a good point, Aegidius tuned out the two versions of his grandfather. He dreaded the idea of having a third one in there! He wouldn’t be able to take it... Between Vindictus the Lich King and his pragmatic assholishness and Star Child who he could not really get a good grasp on except he was so nice that it almost felt unreal… Which it probably was… What would the third one be like!?

However… the worrying about that would have to come later, even now he felt the countless stares of the people on board the  _ Iron Will’s  _ bridge as he fully sprang back to consciousness, taking a far deeper breath then he was used to and in a far smoother manner.

He groaned, bracing himself on the floor as he stood up, he noticed that his armour was completely gone. To his eternal mortification, there was only so much on him now to cover his more sensitive areas. But as he straightened himself up, what made him pause was how much taller he must be, how weird his body felt and how-

Why was his skin darker?

Roboute: “Yes, Father. Why is that?”  
Emperor: “Give it a minute. Let him notice all of it.”

He slowly turned what should have been his own hand, looking as it opened, closed, moved as he wanted, but… But no, this couldn’t be his hand, his skin, his nerves… the hand was too big, too dark, too blocky, too graceful, too controllable, too strong, too- not him!

He looked up, watching how the ship around him was now in full view. The signs of battle were apparent, the occupants of the entire bridge staring at him, the baselines having long since dropped to their knees with some even beginning to openly weep before him. Some cried out about the great return while others were even bleeding from their eyes…

Guilliman: *Eye starts to violently twitch*

“What the fu-” He quickly slapped his not hands over his mouth and wondered about how his voice is now his not voice. No, no… He sounded wrong as well! His voice was never this deep! He still had trouble deepening it on command! He had to artificially deepen his voice when he talked to Lord Admiral Spire- something he was embarrassed about actually but- this was not his voice!

Guilliman:  **“Father!”  
** Emperor: “There it is…” *Sighs and groans before facepalming* “-my future self truly is… an idiot.”  
Magnus: “He’s going to react violently to this.”  
Corvus: “Did they… honestly think this would go well?”

_ Grandfathers! _

**_What is it, dear boy?_ **

**What?**

_ You both want to explain to me… on why my body is  _ **_completely different_ ** _ to what it used to be!? _

**_If this wasn’t caused by us, I’d just say that’s puberty._ **

**It’s puberty.**

_ You’re just saying that to get me off of your back aren’t you?! _

**_I would never-_ **

**Yes.**

_ Care to explain to me right now what you two did to me! Why are the people here crying and bleeding from their eyes!? Why is my body like this- you two had something to do with this! Before Star Asshole over there decided to park himself in my body and mind, I was completely fine! _

**Stating the obvious isn’t going to curry you any favour.**

_ That’s completely- _

**Yes! It was me, alright? You needed an augmented body in order to survive the souls fusion in which we underwent.**

_ You stole my  _ **_face_ ** _! _

**I did not steal anything! It is still there!**

**_Well… mostly._ **

Touching his face to confirm, his sanity and temper were threatening to snap in a very violent way.  _ This. This is not my face. You two took away my face. You took away my skin. You took away me from my own body. I don’t know how to express the amount of anger and hate I am feeling right now. _

**Fury would about do it.**

**_We really should discuss this later my dear boy, you have an audience._ **

_ Audience-? _

Aegidius focused back on the reality around him, or well, not him. This wasn’t him... It couldn’t be him. The Custodes were still, all of them watching him, all the marines were openly staring at him as well. The meni-  **people.** People were staring and praising him… All of it making him feel uneasy.

“...Yes? H-hello. Sorry, I sort of… had a bad experience?”

Guilliman: “If that isn’t the fucking understatemnt of the fucking fuck century of the fucking fififienonaefoin…”

“My… my lord?” Uncertainly came the booming voice of Bjorn.

“I uh, eh, yes, uh, hi Bjorn!” Aegidius even waved at him, another baseline was heard falling to the floor in the background.

“Your majesty… you, remember me?”

“Wha- what are you talking about? I met you earlier? We met on Macragge?” Far too confused now as he wondered if the last few hours were even real in the first place.

“Your majesty?” Asked Pupponius, who approached him. Aegidius now noticed that he was somehow of equal height…

“Pupponius, when did you shrink?”

“Shrink, your majesty?”

“Y-yes! Shrink! You know, get smaller? You’re a lot shorter now. Usually you towered over me and-?”

Fulgrim: “Oh no…”

Then Aegidius noticed a faint glint in the part of Pupponius’ gleaming golden armour which wasn’t covered in blood or scarred with marks from the battle.

He saw… a man, a man with shoulder length flowing black hair, a more handsome version of himself, those glowing golden irises and- Oh no. He really did look a lot different now… He can’t- He… He...

_ Grandfathers!!! _

**What now?**

_ I don’t look like myself, I don’t look like myself! You promised you only changed little! You promised I stayed the same- _

**No I did not.**

**_Now there is puberty at work if I ever did see it._ **

Horus: “Father. Can you please  _ not  _ blame puberty on this!?”  
Emperor: “I wish I could change the vid, but I can’t son.”  
Horus: “That was a rhetorical statement.”

_ You do not get to say puberty this time! Puberty does not change your hair color, your iris color, basic facial features and no longer look like yourself in any manner! Oh! And change the very basic muscle memory of my body! _

**True, but soul-binding combined with a mass amount of biomancy does.**

_ I… I don’t look like myself. Is it not bad enough you took my childhood away from me, how you made life hell for me growing up, how you threw countless responsibilities onto me before I even knew what was going on, how you made me agree to soul contracts before I knew all the terms? Now you rob me of my own looks and replace them with your own? Am I not allowed one- _

**_We don’t have a real corporeal form you know? It is simply the way everyone remembers us. Once you master biomancy you can make your body look however you want it to._ **

_ One problem. I don’t have the faintest clue on how biomancy even works. And even then, you took away my face! _

**Details. And he did say “Once you master it”.**

Magnus: “I mastered Biomancy relatively quickly, but that is only because I was hand crafted to be a master in warpcraft from my very conception. And even then, all of my sons who are masters of Biomancy only achieved it after decades, nearing a century of training, and being specifically focused on it. And they’re genetically enhanced warriors based off of my own design. And last I recalled, I don’t even know many Eldar who have mastery over Biomancy, including Roboute’s design.”  
Emperor: “To be fair, the Eldar are far better at genecrafting than even humanity at its peak point due to the nature of their souls.”  
Lorgar: “Peak point.”  
Emperor: “Fair point, but still.”  
Guilliman: *Eternal grumbling*

The amount of disgust in his mind was so overpowering, some of the baselines around him couldn’t stop themselves from feeling like they were going to vomit. With everything that his fucking leeches of Grandfathers, now having even his own face ripped away from him-

He didn’t see how he was in any amount of control right now. Simply sheer, body seizing horror as everything was now coming full circle.

“I uh… my liege, are you alright?” Spoke Pupponius, bringing Aegidius out of his reverie.

“...No. No I am not. I am the farthest thing away from alright. I have lost nearly everything, and they don’t even have the fucking decency to even acknowledge how much they fucked it all up.”

“We… we are very sorry about it my liege, we have all done penance.”

Malcador: “Oh, you gotta be kidding me.”  
Guilliman: “What now Lord Sigillite?”  
Malcador: “I think the charisma has kicked in.”  
Magnus: “What? You cannot possibly be thinking-”

“Wait, wha-”

“It will always be our deepest shame that we were not able to prevent the loss of the Throneworld.” Explained another Custodian.

Magnus: “Oh…”  
Malcador: “Yup. They’re seriously going to make this about Terra.”  
Emperor: “Its not their fault to be honest, if Aegidius can’t control his charismatic aura then… well.”  
Roboute: “That’s it? Well? That’s all you have to say?”  
Emperor: “Roboute, I would do everything in my power to stop it. But I can’t. This will resolve itself, he does have two of my most massive shards with him.”

“We have continued to fight in your honoured name, and it seems as if suspicions were in fact correct.” Started another.

_ What are they- oh no… _

One of the Custodes dropped to his knees. Presenting his halberd in both of his hands towards Aegidius.

“Hail! All hail the returned Emperor! Who has returned to us in our most dire of times!”

Guilliman: “Are you-”  
Lorgar: “-fucking-”  
Corvus: “-kidding-”  
Malcador: “-me.”

Soon, all of the other Custodes did the same, echoing the previous Custodians' cry and joining all of the baselines who were already on their knees.

“Your majesty.” Once more rumbled Bjorn, forcing his massive form to slightly bow. “My allegiance and spirit is yours once again.”

Leman: “Yer even made the poor lad bow!”  
Emperor: “Not my fault, son!”

He was followed by all the remaining Space Wolves as even Horus took a knee, repeating the vow and posture of the Custodians. All knelt before the Emperor and his pure majesty, ready to lay down their lives for the one who would guide them into a new age...

“No… No, no, no! Stop it! I’m not the Emperor, I’m Aegidius! All of you knew me as Aegidius! I’m not the Emperor!” He tried in vain to deny it all, he didn’t want to lose himself, this was crazy, this was terrifying, this wasn’t right!

Malcador: “Watch this kids, you are all about to see what happens when a certain  _ someone  _ can’t control his extremely charismatic aura.”  
Roboute: “...does anyone want to point out how my son is going through a full on body horror episode and no one is even giving him the chance to express it and instead imposing the ‘Return of the Emperor’ on him at a very fragile moment for him?”  
Lorgar: “To be fair, that does sound like a terrifying experience…”

“Not in body my liege, but in spirit, it is obvious.” Spoke another of the Custodians.

“No! The spirit of those leeches is inside of me! But my soul, my body, my mind, it’s me! I am Aegidius! I am not the Emperor you once knew!”

The baselines began to chant.

“Hail aegidius! Hail the emperor's host!”

“Just shut-”

**I wouldn’t do that if I were you.**

_ Why!? They’re chanting!  _ **_Chanting!_ ** _ Chanting as if I am some sort of deity- oh for- you are! No… No, I can’t deal with this. _

**_But with the sheer power of your aura, anything you tell them to do, would make them do it. If you tell them to shut up, they’re going to shut up. And never speak again until you tell them to._ **

Emperor: “See! They are helping!”  
Jaghatai: “More like poking an already running horse in the right direction.”

_ What!? _

**Yes, that is how it works. You’ll get used to it.**

_ Humans can’t be this stupid, can they? _

**_Not so much stupid as simply impressionable, they literally worship us as a god._ **

**Ugh…**

**_Which causes the aura to be thrice as effective as it normally would. That is why the Custodians and Astartes aren’t chanting along with them._ **

_ Can I tell them to just… like… stop? _

**_Of course! Just tell them to rise!_ **

_ But… but that involves me accepting that I am the Emperor! That I am you! _

**Are you implying that that is now avoidable?**

_ No. You tricked me again… I… _

“Every-everyone, please… rise. Please.”

Everyone in the room slowly rose to their feet. The baselines finally became aware of what happened. While many of them had calmed down, some still had the distinct look of religious fervor in their eyes as they looked toward Aegidius as if he was the Emperor reborn.

This was a living nightmare.

Lorgar: “At least they understand my plight…”  
Horus: “I think we are all beginning to.”

“We uh… the battle! What happened to the battle?”

To Aegidius it sounded like a confused man speaking, to everyone else on the bridge it sounded like a command coming directly out of the mouth of god. 

“Sensorium reports enemy ships heavily damaged but some still operational my liege.” Reported an aide.

“Good… good, can we uh, can I get the Lord High Admiral too…” He scanned the bridge, much easier now that he was the  _ height of a Custodes _ . And now that everyone finally got back to their stations, seeing Lord High Admiral Spire still strapped to the command throne on the far side of the bridge.

“ _ Lord Admiral Spire- I mean- You! _ ” He sputtered, walking fast to the other side, that is until he pricked his foot on one of the chainaxes left behind by one of the dead Khornate berzerkers.

“Ok… that hur-” He stopped himself as he looked around and noticed just how bad everything looked.

The entire bridge was covered in bodies. Some human, some transhuman, other traitor. Spent shell casing were everywhere, discarded or broken weapons were lodged into armour or simply strewn across the deck, the acrid smell of plasma and las weaponry lingered in the air even as blood stained almost every part of the deck.

“Uh… can someone get me some clothes? And maybe some shoes or something please…” He spoke slowly, shocked at the fact that he was not at all revolted by the scene around him. Where previously it would make him shrivel up into a ball of shock and disgust, now he was capable of mentally shrugging the very scene off. What had the Emperor done to him?

One of the Custodes approached him quickly, offering his red-gold trimmed cloak, which Aegidius gratefully took. He quickly wrapped the cloak around himself even as he looked down toward his feet, expecting to find a bleeding-

“Oh…”

Only to find fully, a perfectly fitting pair of boots.

“How in the-”

**_Call it a tiny miracle._ **

_ Th… thank you…? _

Lorgar: *Violently pointing again*  
Emperor: “Not a miracle, just simple transmutation using next level psychic powers.”  
Lorgar: “How is that not god like?!”  
Emperor: “It's not because it is done in a way that Magnus can even do it.”  
Lorgar: “Now I fucking swear.”  
Magnus: “It’s true. I make toys.”  
Horus: “Promptly ignoring that and moving on.”  
Magnus: “What is wrong with what I said? My children love them. What did you think I meant…?”

He sighed and made his way slowly toward the command throne. When he finally reached it, Lord Admiral Spire gave a curt nod of his head.

“Your majesty.” He greeted in his trademark raspy voice.

“Lord High Admiral… you aren’t… surprised?”

His response was only Spire’s unflinching iron look.

“My lord, I have spent so long in this galaxy that almost nothing can surprise me anymore. While your return is an earnest shock and a most holy welcome. I cannot allow myself the celebration, I still have a battle to win.”

“Ah! Yes. Right, the uh… Battle. Yes. You do… battle.”

Horus: “Now that is a man who has earned his rank.”

Lord High Admiral Spire stayed silent then shook his head slightly, a small smile on his face. “And that’s how I know you’re still you my Prince. No one that I have ever met is that bad at socializing, except you.”

Emperor: “Pffft-” *Slams hands over mouth*  
Roboute: “...well, at least that part of him will never leave.”  
Ferrus: “Do you think that his own orator skills have gone into the negatives? You’d think he’d be as skilled as you, since he’s your son.”  
Guilliman: “I blame Yvraine. Eldar pride and all that.”  
Emperor: “Careful with that

“I happily accept that burn, only because you’re the first person to not go crazy over me- will all of you fucking go back to work already! And stop sneaking glances at me!”

“Of course my Emperor! We shall not look at you if you so desire-”

“Oh for Macragge’s sake-”

“Your majesty!” Started a crewman from his side. Aegidius turned to face the person, seeing that his uniform marked the rank of Commodore.

“Ye-yes commodore?”

“My lord, I have the proper reports you requested of the current status in the battle.”

“Uh-yes yes, go ahead please.”

The Commodore cleared his throat and began. “The  _ Ardent Will’s _ void shields are broken and completely depleted, however the hull is mostly holding, suffering only damage from boarding party drills and rams due to our retreat from the direct frontline moments before the boarders reached us. Internal systems are at about 85% functionality and we have only taken 28% crew loss from the resultant actions thus far.”

“I- that’s good! Great news! What about uh- the rest of the battle?”

“The enemy fleet is in disarray from your return your majesty, it appears that whatever you did damaged some of the enemy ships, even completely destroying some of the smaller ones.”

“Oh uh, fantastic!”

The ship suddenly shuddered under the impact of a long range lance battery.

“However, the bigger enemy ships still seem to be determined to destroy us.”

“Um… Not fantastic.”

“Our fleet has been reduced to about a dozen cruiser class war ships and the  _ Emperor’s Fury _ , Apocalypse class battleship was heavily damaged by boarding action, however is reporting full combat capability.”

“Well uh- can we set an engagement course and-”

A warning klaxon cut Aegidius off before he could finish his sentence.

“What is that for?” He quickly asked.

“New vessels entering the engagement zone.” Reported the Master of the Sensorium.

There was a visible pause as everyone waited for the man to continue speaking as the augur arrays decoded the transponder signatures.

“Friendly Adeptus Astartes signatures… it’s the first Ultramarine garrison.” The Master of the Sensorium quickly turned his head to look at the Lord High Admiral. “It’s the  _ Macragge’s Honour!  _ The Lord Commander himself has come to our aid!”

Corvus: “Finally.”

As a roaring cheer went up all across the deck, Aegidius breathed a massive sigh of relief, feeling even his knees weaken. His father was here, everything would be alright now.

He reached up a hand to rub his eyes, feeling shockingly gentle hands rub on smooth skin that-  **oh…** there was that issue…

It was okay. It was okay, his father would know it was him. If anyone was going to treat him the way he did before, other than Spire, it would be his dad. Everything was going to be just fine.

And for the most part… it actually was.

The battle proved to be a complete and utter rout for the remaining Traitor and Chaos forces as the Ultramarine 1st Garrison fleet essentially mopped up with the _ Macragge’s Honour  _ in the lead and acting as a personal battering ram for the Lord Commander. 

The very same Lord Commander would take it to his grave that in all actuality it wasn’t the most effective tactic for taking out the enemy but in fact, just a desperate rush for his son's position.

“Well that was… anticlimactic.” Said one of the two remaining Space Wolves.

Leman: “Aye! I agree!”  
Horus: “And they say that I have a problem with personal glory.”  
Leman: “Oi! Can’t I be happy that me sons are still doing what they were meant to after all this time?”  
Emperor: “Fair enough.”

“Aye brother, a damn shame the Lord Commander came in, we could have kept this going for a while more…” Added the other even as Bjorn turned his lumbering to the two.

“Both of yer pups are lucky to have lived, without that fleet our chances of even coming out of this situation alive would have been incredibly low. And look around you, while you two made it the others weren’t so lucky.” He ended his point with a ‘gentle’ tap on their heads, making the Marines fall to the ground in heaps, groaning from the gentle pats upon their fluffy heads.

Aegidius, overhearing the conversation, turned to take a look of the bridge yet again.

It was at the very least cleaner… sometime during the mop-up, Servitors and other menial workers must have cleared out most of the Armsmen and other bridge crew that perished in the fighting, along with cleaning up most of the blood and human remains to prevent a more hazardous work environment.

The Space Marine corpses, though, remained, proving far too heavy to lift and carry away.

They were scattered all along the deck, looking like a perverted piece of abstract art. Khornate red mixed with Space Wolf yellow and Thousand Sons blue mixed with unnaturally colored Plague marine blood and puss.

Severed limbs, broken weapons and pieces of ceramite along with different entrails were still everywhere, proving far too difficult to move quickly.

“All of the Space Wolves besides the two and Bjorn are gone…” Slowly spoke Aegidius to no one in particular.

“It is so, my Lord.” Agreed Pupponius from his side.

“I uh…” Aegidius turned and looked at his Shield Host, out of the two dozen Custodes, he counted seventeen around him, each one's armour showing heavy battle scars and various smatterings of filth. Then counting the four who were always around him..

“We lost three…” He spoke in a somber tone.

“Sacrum, Flavius and Infelix.” Confirmed Pupponius, his tone mirroring Aegidius’.

Emperor: “Damn, for him to live that long…”  
Horus: “You recognise one father?”  
Emperor: “Flavius is apart of my companions at this very moment. As with Infelix. Sacrum… I do not recognize him, however.”  
Leman: “Rotting shame that…”

“I… how do I-” The sound of warping metal cut Aegidius off mid-sentence as everyone aboard the bridge quickly looked toward a Boarding ram which was the first to board the  _ Ardent Will _ and unload a deadly squad of Khornate Berzerkers, crushing the two missing Custodes in the process.

Now the Boarding ram seemed to impossibly move by itself as it slowly raised itself up, revealing two golden armoured individuals.

“A… little… help… please…” Slowly spoke one of the two, the strain of their feat obvious in his tone.

Emperor: “Well I’ll be damned, I did make them even tougher than I thought!”

“He-help them!” Quickly asked Aegidius as the other Custodes ran up to help lift the Ram.

“The damn thing is stuck!” Said one of the Companions, desperately attempting to pry the Ram off of their brothers.

“Out of the way pups!” Bellowed Bjorn as he marched his massive form to the Ram and almost effortlessly lifted it, allowing for the two Custodes to escape.

“That was the worst fracking timing ever.” Spoke Infelix, one of the two Custodes.

“Anything damaged?” Asked Pupponius as he approached the two.

“No Shield-Captain, we are fine… physically at least.” Spoke Flavius, the other stuck Custodes.

“Nothing but your egos and armour at least brothers. Those dents are going to take the artificers a good length of time to bump out.” Added in another Companion as Infelix and Flavius looked to their armours.

“Aside from a few scrapes, mine is fine.” Stated Flavius as he checked himself over. “Diagnostics report everything fully functional.” He finished even as he slowly bowed his head toward Aegidius.

“My Emperor. An honour to serve you again.”

Emperor: “And you too! Still as curt as ever-” *Realizes something* “I just-”  
Guilliman: “Pulled a me! Yes, how does that feel?”  
Emperor: “A bit silly now that you ask…”

“Ah-ah… thank you… It’s Aegidius, not Emperor-” Responded Aegidius, slightly taken aback.

“Third time in the Companions is it Flavius?” Intervened Pupponius on his grateful Masters behalf, as he approached his brother and patted him on his pauldron.

“Aye brother, once during Ullanor, second during the dark age and now is the third.”

“Ah, great terms these two, I personally- is there something wrong Infelix?”

Every one of the Custodes turned to face Infelix who was standing completely still.

“No. Everything is fine.” He slowly spoke even as an audible sigh was heard from Pupponius’ helmet.

Rogal: “He is lying.”  
Perturabo: “Nooo…”

“Your diagnostics reported something bad that you hadn't realized before didn’t they?”

“No. Everything is fine, observe.” Infelix waved his arms about in a simple combat motion and took a war stand with his spear.

“That is great, now come here brother.”

“What?”

“Walk to me, that simple.”

“Why, why would I do that? I proved to you that my armour is fine.”

“Walk to me.”

“Fine.” Infelix took a step with his left leg. “See everything is-” Only to fall flat on his face when he attempted to move his right.

Most of the family: “Pffft.”

Malcador: “Well, that is one thing you all have in common.”

“Your right leg’s armour actuator is stuck again, isn’t it?” Slowly asked Pupponius as Infelix let out a groan into the metal deck.

“Yes…” He slowly confirmed.

“That is what you get for kicking clean through an Ork.”

“The artificers are going to kill me…”

Infelix let out another groan even as Aegidius smiled. He paused, recounting his companions, he expected to have the twenty three in total, but for some reason he was counting twenty-six. He blinked then waved it off.

Though… as he watched Pupponius and Infelix interact… he felt his hearts warm for some inexplicable reason, finding that he somewhat shared their joy.

In fact… looking at all of the Custodes surrounding him yet again, he felt far more as their equal rather than their query. 

He felt… far more comfortable now. Before he had simply accepted their presence now however… he could positively see what they were thinking somehow…

Yet another question to put on the already massive pile of them.

“My lord.” Interrupted Lord Admiral Spire, getting Aegidius’ attention.

“The Lord Commander has sent a vox-missive asking for you, along with any surviving officers to convene on the  _ Macragge's Honour  _ for a war meeting.”

“I uh-great! That’s great!” Aegidius quickly responded even as he began walking only to stop in his footsteps.

“Oh…” He suddenly remembered what exactly had happened to him.

Horus: “Yes, you need to remember that I’m there too…”  
Konrad: “This is going to be fun. What did your Chapter Master do Roboute? Engage in a bit of the old Ultraviolence?”  
Roboute: “I would tell you to back off if you weren’t so correct.”

“This is going to be-”

…

**Sometime later** , Gloriana Class battleship,  _ Macragge’s Honour _

…

“-bad.”

Aegidius stood along with his Shield Host, Horus, Bjorn and the two remaining Space Wolves and Lord High Admiral spire in the biggest hangar of the  _ Macragge’s Honour _ .

All around them, various vessels were taking off and landing. Going or coming from patrols or various repair missions.

In front of them though was lined up the entire Ultramarine first company along with over a thousand Armsmen as befitted the proper greeting of the Imperial Prince even as at the end of the corridor stood his father with his own command staff.

It all went smoothly at first. The landers ramp dropped and Aegidius began walking quickly with his Shield Host, hoping that by some miracle no one would notice how much he had changed.

That idea quickly went away when one of the Armsmen fainted and proceeded to faceplant the steel deck. He was followed quickly by the entire Ultramarine first company kneeling.

_ Grandfathers! _

**Is that your new favourite word?**

_ I need help. I can’t do this- everyone is kneeling! Help me turn the Charisma off, it's ruining everything! _

**_That isn’t the charisma my boy, it's their natural reaction. They must have already heard the news._ **

Aegidius then looked toward his father, really, actually looked.

His father was  **kneeling** .

_ Oh, no no no no no- _

Guilliman: *Deep sigh* “It is the correct move of deference to the Emperor…”

Aegidius ran, not even caring if it looked decent. The red-gold edged cloak lightly flowing in the breeze even as he reached his Father.

Fulgrim: “That’s going to be talked about…”

“ _ Dad please. _ ” He said in a quick whisper. “ _ Stand, don’t- _ ”

“ _ I can’t. _ ” Whispered Guilliman back.

“ _ Wha- _ ”

_ “You need to order me to rise.” _ Came a second hushed whisper.

It was then that Aegidius noticed that it wasn’t just his father that was kneeling in front of him.

Everyone was.

“Uh…” Slowly spoke Aegidius, his father's words finally hitting home. “Stand, please all of you, don’t kneel… please.” The words sounded desperate to his own ears, but they did the job as soon everyone, including his father, stood. He looked back up to his father's face, how much closer than it once was.

_ “Can we talk dad, please…” _ He whispered once again, the cold eyes of his father spoke levels of what exactly the Lord Commander was actually thinking at the time.

“Of course,  **your majesty.** ” Answered his father even as Aegidius’ hearts began thumping, the sound filling his mind. “Right this way.” He gestured toward the door and they both began a rather hasty walk.

For the entire length of it, Aegidius was nervous. Incredibly so in fact, didn’t his father see past the external facade? He was still his son, he was still the same person… Would his grandfathers take something else from him? Take away the bond he had with his own father?

When would it end? When would he stop losing everything he had?

But finally, after what felt like hours, they reached the privacy of Guilliman’s personal quarters, leaving their respective escorts outside of the doors.

As soon as the doors shut, any worries that Aegidius had about his father were washed away as Guilliman embraced him. Despite a cool layer of ceramite separating the two, Aegidius clung to his father like the child he really was.

“Dad…” He slowly spoke. Not knowing how to begin. Finally being alone, not around everyone calling him the Emperor and ignoring him-

“Hush child, it is alright.”

Horus: “Should we uh… give them some privacy?”  
Roboute: “I’d like that. But well, all of you got to sit there and see me do everything else, what does it matter anymore…” *Sighs*  
Emperor: “Roboute, if it bothers you, just say so…”  
Roboute: “No, it’s fine. I promise.”

Aegidius could feel unshed tears begin to flow, the hot sting blurring his vision. “No! None of this is alright! This isn’t my face, my skin, my hands, my body, none of this is mine! Everyone is just calling me the Emperor- Grandfather! I-I… grandpa, he is, he is with-with me…”

Roboute: “Oh… we are going down this route.”

“What do you mean?” Slowly asked his father as he pulled him away and looked into his son’s eyes. Though in his mind, it was increasingly difficult to separate who it was that he was talking to. This was a younger version of his  _ Father _ , the Emperor, same voice and everything save for the mannerism which well and truly marked him as Aegidius.

“He is… well, he is inside my mind…” Aegidius explained awkwardly, hands coming up to rub at the sides of his face, humming to himself as he tried to stay in control. But at this point, he was so desperate that he had no idea what to do. He could feel a massive headache assaulting his mind as he forced out the words to his father.

“...so it is true.” Roboute knew it to be true, had waited for his son to come to him and seek his wisdom. To possibly help him through this horrible development.

“I… I look like this but… well… there is more he uh- uh he...”He stopped, trying to find the words he would need to explain this all, but knowing he didn’t have the charisma and vocational skills to do so, he decided to just try and show instead-

_ Grandfathers… _

**_Yes young one?_ **

_ Show yourselves to him. _

**Hmph, this won’t go over well.**

_ I can’t lie to my own father! You made me lie all those years ago! I am done lying. _

**Why?**

_ He’s my father! I love him and want him to help! I want him to know everything that’s going on! _

**That is a stupid idea and furthermo-**

**_Revelation… let us show him._ **

**What?! Do you not remember how he took it the last time?**

**_It was only you, now I am here as well. I’m sure we can talk this out and get him to understand our point of view._ **

**I… fine.**

“Son?” Asked Guilliman again, confused at just what was happening to Aegidius. He knew his son had his Father in him, but there had always been that very last inkling of doubt. Yet now, he fully confessed to his worst nightmare, to the very idea that had caused Roboute to rethink his place in this Imperium, the very idea that he shared with Mortarion and Rogal.

“Show yourselves already… Please… Please just do it already.” Aegidius pleaded right as two astral bodies began to form alongside Aegidius. One that of a too recognisable rotting corpse that he had less than stellar memories of, and the other of a vaguely glowing white humanoid in the shape of his Father.

“What!?” Shouted Guilliman. “Aegidius, what trick is-”

“ **_No trick._ ** ” Explained the Star Child.

“ **It is me.** ”

“ **_Or rather, us._ ** ”

“ **Technicalities.** ”

The two Emperors stood on either side of Aegidius, almost as a mirrored trio in one spot, if not for the translucence on the bottom of them both.

From what he had deducted all that time ago, he knew that his Father was inside of his son. He knew from the mannerisms and the very way his son would act in certain situations. He had deducted that it was only them… yet now, to the contrary, there were two. He had not thought two versions of his Father would reside inside of Aegidius. Shards of His psyche? Shard of Himself? They both gave off such terribly different auras, where one was coldly smiling and attempting to appear warm while the other reminded him so terribly of the same man who sat upon the Golden Throne on Terra when he had first returned.

His son was trembling now, looking at him with wide pleading eyes of a scared child reaching out to their parent for comfort. Yet the very visage before him did not remind him of Aegidius, it reminded him more of his Father. Every detail he loved about his son was replaced, morphed, was different now. It was no longer his son with his too large nose, bushy brows and residual baby fat. He was no longer the blend of himself and his wife, no longer the young man that was in the middle of blossoming on Macragge. He was simply another caricature of his Father.

It clicked.

That light he witnessed earlier, the changed form of his son, the multiple Emperors… It all made sense to him now and it only stoked the fire of fury he felt towards his creator.

“What did you do.” He demanded in a calm voice, yet behind those eyes of his, Guilliman was beyond livid, staring directly at the corpse Emperor.

“ **I have done what was neces-** ”

“Bullshit.” Roboute cut off his Fath- The Emperor. He was not going to sit down and let Him sweep his sin to the side, he wouldn’t let Him get away with his planning this time. “You have done a whole lot more than nothing  _ Father _ . My only son is now a near carbon copy of you! So I ask once more. What did you do.”

Guilliman: “Oh… my future self has finally had enough.”  
Mortarion: “That’s not good…”  
Konrad: “Finally!”

The second Emperor jumped in hoping to smooth over the rapidly increasing tension. “ **_Well, we did not mean to change the boy-_ ** ”

“His name. Is. Aegidius.”

“ **_Well._ ** ” The second Emperor cleared his throat, still hoping to smooth this over. “ **_-we didn’t mean to change Aegidius. Just that myself and my other half-_ ** ”

“ **_I_ ** **am not** **_your_ ** **other half,** **_you_ ** **are** **_my_ ** **other half!** ”

Aegidius brought his hands up to his ears, clamping down on them, shutting his eyes tightly, attempting to block out the argument. He could not bear to listen to another minute of the two of them arguing and complaining about his own body!

“ **_We agreed that_ ** **you** **_are_ ** **my** **_other half and that-_ ** ”

“Enough!” Roboute stepped closer to the two Emperors, pulling his son away from them and looking over the two of them, his patience for the conversation rapidly dwindling into nothing. “I asked a question about what you have done to my son, and you make this into a question about  _ you _ ? You’re inside his body, his mind, his soul, you have maimed him. Yet you’re still here arguing over who is the other half!?”

“ **_It’s not us arguing for the sake of ourselves, it’s just us trying to find a way to make it more… well, I would say, find a way to live amicably together and find a way to work together for a greater purpose._ ** ”

“ **You’re acting as if we did something wrong.** ”

“Of course you two did something wrong!”

“ **_Hey now, I’m the good one here-_ ** ”

“Will you two just shut up already!?” Aegidius shouted, hating how this entire conversation is just hammering a migraine into him. “Father, I have no idea what’s even going on anymore. For the longest time, it was only…” He waved his hands at corpse Emperor. “Him.”

“ **And then when we got attacked on the ship, matters got… complicated.** ”

“He-” Now, Aegidius waved to the younger Emperor, “-decided that it was a great time to join up with the other one. Then they nearly suffocated me-”

“ **We almost did, but as you can see, he’s fine.** ”

“They nearly suffocated me-” Aegidius cut back in, everything from the last few hours just crashing down and at this moment, he has had enough. “You two had the time of your lives arguing with each other while I nearly died on the floor because you two have to invade my body!”

“ **_We did not invade, it was-_ ** ”

“ **You are taking this completely out of context.** ”

“Am I!?” Aegidius ran his not hands through his not hair and begam to pace around in his not body in his not clothes. “You two then decided to merge together, made me go through the worst physical pain in my life again- did I mention that!?” He looked to his horrified father, letting out humorless laughter as he ran one hand along his face. “Yeah, that’s why I’m like this. Apparently corpse grandfather decided he didn’t want to die and move on, so he soul-bound himself to me when I was being born! Why don’t you tell my Father what else you have planned for me?”

He stopped pacing the few remaining parts of his will shattering at the realization of what was going on.

Laughter bubbled out from Aegidius, tears spilling down his face as he hunched over slightly. “It’s hilarious. Completely hilarious that… That I went through the worst physical pain anyone could ever go through in my first moments of life. Doomed to have a sociopathic lich attached to my soul- twisting me and making me into his perfect play thing.”

“ **And you are being completely melodramatic!** ” The corpse Emperor roared as he whirled towards Aegidius, “ **If I had passed on and died, then humanity would have died! The Silent Year, remember that!? Oh no, you wouldn’t because you weren’t even born yet! Humanity was dying, it was being destroyed, and all because I finally had passed on! I was dead, Aegidius! And you have the gall to sit there and tell me I should have simply continued on into death!? This is why I can barely tolerate you at times! You are a selfish child who I am forever shackled with! If you had just shut up and done your part, done as I commanded, I wouldn’t have to go through all this trouble!** ”

Silence.

Roboute stared in shock at the exchange he had just seen, looking back and forth between Aegidius and the throne version of his father as they accosted one another.

In his long life, he had presided over impossible treaties, seen wars that tore apart entire star systems, was witness to events unexplainable by even the most scientific minds...

But he had never seen something as bad as this.

He had never felt as if he would be sick from simply seeing an argument.

“...I am a child.” Aegidius chuckled, sitting on the floor, cradling his head. “Have you completely forgotten I am thirteen standard Terran years old? Six years ago, I went to school, I had dreams, I still was able to have fun and be my own age. I’m thirteen years old, yet now I look and talk like someone way beyond that! I no longer have any friends, I have vast untold power that I didn’t even earn in the first place. You forced me to shape and mold to your vision, whether I liked it or not... And it’s all your fault!”

He laughed again at the absurdity of it all, “And the most hilarious part about all of this? You don’t care. All you care about is what you want, what humanity needs. You think I’m a selfish child and you’re just going to have to deal with me, tolerate me, forever. Be honest. You’d rather I be dead, wouldn’t you?”

“ **_Aegidius-_ ** ”

“It was cruel! It was cruel of you to keep me alive! You should have snuffed me out at the beginning so I wouldn’t have to deal with  **_you_ ** !” He looked towards Star Child, “None of you have listened to me, you have brushed aside my questions, my feelings. It doesn’t matter, I don’t matter! Nothing that happens to me matters! All that matters is that  _ you  _ are back. You saw it on the  _ Ardent Will _ , no one even acknowledges me anymore, they just call me the Emperor! No one even cares that I don’t look like myself anymore...”

“Aegidius.” Roboute finally intervened, the words his own son had said causing his hearts to skip a beat. “I care that you don’t look like yourself, I care that there are two versions of my father around forcing their will onto you.”

“ **_But we’re not- Well, in a way we are…_ ** ”

“See, even you admit it now!” Aegidius practically screamed even as his mind went blank from the pure disbelief of it all.

“ **_That was never the goal… for what it’s worth, I apologize._ ** ”

“Apologize?” Asked Guilliman, his tone turning to a deadly whisper, the heartbreak replaced. “You apologize, do you Father?” He said once more as he advanced on the younger Emperor. “Just as you apologized to me for obeying your orders unquestionably for centuries.”

“ **That is not the same-** ”

“Do not deny it!” Guilliman shouted, his voice echoing in the room like rolling thunder. “My entire existence has consisted of worthless apologizes while I have given my life to this Imperium twice over!” He continued his rant even as he got as close as possible to the Star Child's face, never actually touching him.

“Both times you have done nothing but lied and apologized for things you had me do.” His tone was lower, like a predator whispering to already sentenced prey. “When I returned to your side, unquestionably, you didn’t even have the common decency or decorum to greet me as your son. That act was out of the window quite quickly wasn’t it  _ father _ ?” Guillimans seething voice appeared to have an almost physical effect, making the room feel far colder than it actually was.

“ **If you expected a welcome back feast as well as a pat on the bac-** ”

“I expected  _ my Father _ !” Guilliman roared as he focused his furious look on the Corpse Emperor. “I expected answers! Instead you greeted me as a tool, as if I was some discarded test subject which you found ever so amusing.” He walked over slowly to Aegidius. “I saved this bloated corpse of an Empire, not for the dream, that has long since been shattered, but for you, you ungrateful pile of an indignant creator!” His head slowly turned to his son, the massive body looking so big for his son's age...

He put a hand on Aegidius’ tense shoulder and squeezed gently. “Because I had hope, under my doubt lay a firm belief that it was still you somewhere. The father that I loved, the Father that replaced mine. I see now that I was wrong…”

“ **_Roboute, if I had known-_ ** ”

“But you didn’t. Bygones are bygones. And you never learned, because you are doing the exact same thing to  _ my  _ son.” The Lord Commander pulled Aegidius closer to himself, the child clinging to his father's ceramite clad midriff like a lifeline.

“And I would sooner rebel against your will and see this Imperium rot then let you do that ever again. Is it any wonder that poor Konrad turned out as he did? Is it mere coincidence that Angron ran rampant with those nails still hammered into his head? Is it by design that you never gave Mortarion the interest and close overlook he needed or were you surprised that Lorgar turned as he did when instead of guidance you seeded doubt and only strengthened his arrogance?”

Guillimans patrician features twisted until only a look of pure disgust remained.

“Or is it by your design?”

“ **Roboute, you dare-** ”

“You needed someone they would always fear, needed someone you could let loose and not control, a complete loose cannon.”

“ **_Son-_ ** ”

“One that would endure everything and anything thrown at him. One that would forever doubt his very place in this galaxy.”

“ **Your accusations are completely-** ”

“Logical. Father, I am a weapon. Leman is a weapon. Rogal is a weapon. The Space Marines are weapons. The Custodes, the Astra Telepathica, the Inquisition, the Grey Knights, the Knights Errant.”

Guilliman made gentle circles on Aegidius back, feeling the child sob as he did so, his muscles going more and more lax by the moment.

“You were always great at making weapons. Excellent at it in fact.”

The look Guilliman gave then was one of pure defiance.

“You failed with me.”

“ **Roboute, what are you doing?** ”

“Aegidius is my son, and I am his father. It is my job, my right and the very meaning of parenthood to protect him from any harm that would come to him.”

Aegidius squeezed closer to his father, pressing his face even harder against the cold ceramite breastplate which was now wet from his tears.

“I can’t stop you from doing what you have already done, nor do I understand much on the concept of soul-binding.”

Guilliman continued to rub Aegidius’ back in a soothing motion. In his mind, never before did he believe he would ever come close to understanding Horus’ rebellion. Yet here he was.

“But the only way you are going to hurt him more is over my cold dead body. And we both know that that is something this Imperium can not afford.”

Silence fell across the chamber, the only thing disturbing them being the silent cries coming from Aegidius. The two Astral forms of the Emperor floated with massive shock evident on their respective faces.

“ **You wouldn’t dare.** ”

“Try me.” Guilliman answered in a heartbeat. “I gave my life for this Empire, I would do so far quicker for my son.”

A pause, the two Astral forms looked at each other, an unseen talk clearly happening between the two.

Family: *Shocked into absolute silence*  
Horus: “Wow… that was just… wow…”  
Mortarion: “You brought down more than just a hammer…”  
Rogal: “Beyond even the meaning of those words.”  
Corvus: “Poetry of truth. That is all those words were.”  
Sanguinius: “A certain beauty in its truth indeed…”  
Vulkan: “If I could I would give the future you the greatest of hugs.”  
Malcador: “Watch the vid. He is not done yet, I think.”  
Emperor: *Slowly shrinks back into his throne, hiding his face*

“ **_This set of circumstances is quite clearly unfortunate, however… we agree._ ** ”

“Wh-what?” Slowly asked Aegidius as he turned around to face his Grandfathers.

“ **Under no circumstances will we ever knowingly lead your son into harm's ways without telling him first.** ”

“ **_And we agree that our move to acquire his body was far too hasty and quite frankly, disgustingly uncaring for Aegidius’ own wellbeing. Pragmatism is something one sadly develops to a severe degree after some time in our place._ ** ”

Konrad: “...how much do you want to bet that they’re only saying this now to cover their asses and gain a bit of favor?”  
Malcador: “Fifty fifty, after you live for that long they aren’t wrong.”

“ **That is why we have agreed on another thing, our return, our true return must be delayed until the boy is fully ready.** ”

“ **_It must be him that still controls his body, you are correct, if we are to both command him in spirit and body, it would cause... catastrophic trauma._ ** ”

“ **Thus, we are hiding any effects we can of our presence, though some will linger.** ”

“ **_How does that sound?_ ** ”

“Will… will it hurt?” Gently asked Aegidius even as he stayed pressed against his father.

“ **_No young one, merely feel as if heat is gently caressing your face._ ** ”

“I… please, do it.”

“Aegidius.” Gently interrupted his father. “Are you sure?”

Aegidius looked up at his father.

“It’s ok dad, I want this.”

The Star Child gave a great smile even as he turned toward Revelation.

“ **_You were always better at this than me._ ** ”

The Corpse Emperor sighed, then floated over to Aegidius and with hands of un-natural gentleness and precision began to run them over Aegidius’ face. 

Aegidius felt as his skin moved like moulding clay under a sculptor’s knife, he felt as certain features melted or stiffened like wax. Then finally, he felt as his eyes went from a concentrated outward burn to a calming cool blue.

**“Finished.”** Said Revelation as he retreated back and Aegidius quickly turned to face his father.

Guilliman looked down at his son with the gaze of a caring parent, gently reaching out and stroking one of Aegidius’ cheeks.

“Now that is yours, never let anyone take that from you.” He explained with a smile even as he ran his hands down the straight black shoulder-length hair.

“Nothing you can do about that?” He asked calmly as he looked up at Revelation.

“ **It is a miracle that I was able to do what I already did. The hair stays for now. As for the body, its strength cannot be afforded to be diminished, the shape of it shall adapt to his genetic code… over time.** ”

“That… I reluctantly understand.”

“Dad…” Slowly spoke Aegidius, drawing his father's gaze with his more stereotypical voice. It was far closer to his original one, but it was still deep, and commanded far more respect than it should.

“You will always be you Aegidius, no matter what happens, do you understand?” Explained Guilliman even as Aegidius furiously nodded in return. “Hopefully we now all understand a bit more about each other.”

Emperor: “I feel like that entire segment was one long flaying session upon our minds…”  
Malcador: “Well, this will be the biggest lesson for you then.”  
Emperor: *Questioning look*  
Malcador: “That is the type of horror you wreck when you don’t have your compassion for all this time. If you hadn’t learned your lesson before, I’d ask if you did now.”  
Emperor: “...Yes, I understand. Now that I’m whole, I won’t shatter myself like that ever again. I promise.”

Father and son held each other for an uncountable amount of minutes, Roboute refusing to let his son be alone for this ordeal any longer. He had failed him once already, he was not about to fail him once more.

“Aegidius.” He caught the attention of his son, who sniffled as he tried to reign in his emotions once more. “Never. Never say those words again.”

“What do you mean…?” The boy Emperor asked, confused on what he did wrong.

Roboute held his son tighter, the tumultuous emotions that were swirling inside of him that nearly made his hearts stop earlier. “Never say that you want to die. Never say that ever again, do you understand me? I never want to hear you say those words again.” The slight tremble in his voice, the emotions that were leaving out in that moment made Aegidius realize how reply he must have hurt his father with his uncaring words making him regret it all that much more.

“I… I promise.” The boy Emperor hugged his Father just as tightly, raw from all the events that had happened to him these last twenty four hours.

“Good. Good…” Another squeeze and Father and son separated, the air between them clearer than before. “I do not believe I can handle much more for today.”

“Oh…” Realized Aegidius. “There is… one more thing.”

Horus: “Oh no.”  
Emperor: “Finally! Some more attention on you!”  
Horus: “Thanks dad! If that was Roboute’s reaction to you, imagine his to me!” *Looks are sent to Guilliman for confirmation*  
Roboute: *Impassive look* “I am probably going to try and kill you.”  
Horus: “Thank you for the calming moment brother!”  
Roboute: “Happy to help.” *Uncaring shrug*

“ **_Dear boy, is this really the time?_ ** ”

“...Don't call me that. Besides, I promised no more secrets.”

“ **It’s going to end badly.** ”

“I… I know but he needs to know.”

Guilliman braced himself for yet another potential shock. Hadn’t this day gone on long enough with nasty surprises?

“I will be right back, father.” Aegidius said before he turned and walked to the door of the office, opening it to an absolutely massive gathering of people. “Can I uh… can I see my Eye?”

The group turned to face Aegidius, looks of various confusion evident on the faces of all the unhelmed Astartes and naval officers.

“I uh… uh… the Emperor's eye? You know? The retired Custodes? The guy in scrapped armour?”

It appeared to finally dawn on the people who Aegidius wanted to see and the group made way for the transhuman armoured in scrap power armour, a massive power sword sheathed at his side.

“You summoned me, my Liege?”

“Yes uh, here.” Aegidius made way in the door for Horus to step through.

“Hold for a second…” Horus hesitated. “Is that wise, my Lord?”

“Well-” Before Aegidius could finish the sentence the two Astral forms of the Empeors appeared and gave Horus the literal boot to the rear end as he went scrambling into the room.

*A few snickers here and there*

_ Thank you _ . Thought Aegidius even as he turned back into the room and closed the door behind himself.

**_You’re very welcome!_ **

**This better be worth it…**

“Father…” Began Aegidius as he took a deep breath. “This man saved my life. Not just mine, but of the entire  _ Ardent Will _ , potentially even of the entire fleet by warning us what was coming.”

Guillimans eyebrows flew into his hairline as he looked at the surprisingly tall trashuman.

“Is this so?” He asked even as a gentle smile appeared on the Primarchs lips. “Then I owe you a great debt and offer my sincerest gratitude.” He said even as he extended a hand for the other transhuman to shake, slightly perplexed by the salvaged armour and the Space Wolf helmet that stuck out against everything.

“Uh… thank you… Lord Commander.”

Guillimans face immediately shaped into a look of confusion as he heard the transhumans all too familiar voice. For a few precious seconds the look persisted, then it slowly shifted.

Horus: “You are taking it… well..”  
Konrad, Magnus, Sanguinius and Lorgar: “Wait for it.”

“Well…” Horus turned toward the Astral projections of the Emperor and Aegidius who all nodded in unison, before turning back to face his brother.

“… hello Roboute…” He said again even as he reached up and took off his helmet, before quickly mag locking it to his thigh armour. “Heh uh… long time no see brother.” He said even as he spread his arms in a motion as if he was going for a hug even though Guillimans outstretched hand was now frozen and his face the definition of shock. “No hard feelings?”

Horus: “That… might not have been the smartest move, but if he accepts the hug…”  
Konrad, Magnus, Sanguinius and Lorgar: “Wait for it.”

**…**

**1 minute earlier, outside of Primarch Roboute Guilliman’s quarters**

**...**

Sanguinius: “Hmm… I hate it when it does that…” *Angry angel grumbling*

The mingling crowd of Astartes, Custodes and Navy officials all waited patiently for the Emperor and Primarch to finally exit the quarters. No doubt their talk was very important, doubly so if they needed an eye which was deep into the enemy's ranks at one point.

The discussion inside of the quarters was most likely the most important of the century and everyone was keen to actually see what it was about. Even Lord Admiral Spire felt a bit on edge at just what was actually happening.

“Lord High Admiral.” Greeted another naval officer as he approached Spire. “Did you see how keenly the Emperor greeted his son? Ushering him to his feet so quickly.”

Perturabo: “Great, more political slobbery we have to sit through.”  
Guilliman: “Even I am in no mood for this.”

“I have no doubt it was only to quicken this meeting.” Added in another navy official as he joined in, glass of finely aged amasec in his hands. “The Emperor’s pragmatism and displays of need for his people truly knows no bounds.”

“I think he simply wanted to talk to the Lord Commander in a personal environment for sentimental reasons. He is his son that he hadn’t seen for centuries after all.”

“Hmph.” Answered Spire even as he took a sip of his fancy glass of water.

“What Lord High Admiral? Do you not think either are the case?”

“I could not care which is the case my lords.” He replied in his raspy voice, now somewhat eased by the water. “I do not care to dabble in private affairs.”

“It is interesting stuff though, wouldn’t you say?”

“Mhm.” Said the official with the glass of amasec that he was currently taking a long sip out of.

**_BAM!_ **

Everyone reeled back in shock as the doors to the Primarchs quarters shook violently and yelling from supposedly sound proof doors and walls was vaguely heard.

Guilliman: “I am taking it very well.”  
Rogal: “I am detecting copious amounts of sarcasm.”

“Perhaps they are… very happy to see each other?” Offered one of the officials even as the one drinking amasec was furiously wiping his mouth with a napkin.

“Yes.. that could be the case-” Started the one who was wiping his mouth.

**_BAM!_ **

This time it was heard directly on the wall as a very human looking dent formed on the very thick bulkhead.

“Yes.” Began High Admiral Spire. “Very happy indeed.”

Guilliman: “Ah yes, I couldn’t possibly be taking it better. I am very happy indeed, merely reciprocating that well given hug.”  
Horus: “...okay, I deserve that.”

**…**

**Inside of Primarch Roboute Guilliman’s quarters**

**...**

“-I don’t care how you came back! I just want to know why you haven’t stayed dead like the traitor you are!”

“-boute… I kno…. We ha.... Ve our… differe… nces… But… hear me-”

“Dad please he’s changed, stop trying to choke him to death dad stop-”

Lorgar: “I’ve never seen you look so unhinged…”  
Roboute: “It’s the Arch-traitor right in front of me, after I threatened to destroy everything I worked for if Father pushed me one more time, I’m beyond done with everything. I’m not at my best right there.”

“Aegidius, I know what I am doing! It’s all due to him that everything is like it is now! Why everything came crashing down in the first place! He is going to die, and stay dead! And I will choke out every last bit of his life with my own two hands if I need to!”

“ **Well underway with that last part apparently.** ”

“You shut your mouth Father!” Screamed Roboute as he continued to tighten the grasp of the Hand of Dominion on Horus’ throat. “This traitor dies even if it is the very last thing I do!”

“ **_I beg you Roboute, show restraint! Horus has proven-_ ** ”

“He has proven  _ nothing! _ Nothing aside from being his despicable, old treacherous self!”

“Bro-brother… ple… I… expl…”

The bolter underneath the Hand of Dominion cycled a bolt into the chamber, ready to fire as Guilliman twisted it directly at Horus’ face all the while using his other hand to draw the Emperor’s sword, the magnificent blade lighting up with tall, leaping psychic flames as Guilliman raised it above his head.

“This time, I will make sure you stay dead!”

He swung the sword, his arm steady, the sword arcing with deadly precision directly for the former Warmaster’s neck.

Emperor: “Oh shit.”

“Father no!” Came a cry from Aegidius even as his hand was halted by an invisible force.

Guilliman was undeterred. His face a rictus of anger and tiring effort as he struggled against the telekinetic grip of his father.

“Let. go. Of. me!” He grunted even as the sword continued to move at an extremely slow pace.

“ **I think not! Far too much work was put into this, I will not see it ruined by mere spite-** ”

Emperor: “For the love of humanity, future me, stop shooting yourself in the foot!”

“Spite!?” Guilliman shouted in outrage. “This is not spite! This is vengeance, revenge, justice!” He continued even as a very distinct click was heard.

“Father, no!” Shouted Aegidius, his psychic concentration on his father's hand causing him to forget the Hand of Dominions underslung bolter completely.

“Grandfathers!”

“ **On** **_it!_ ** _ ” _

The Emperor’s both concentrated a part of their telekinetic ability toward Guillimans other hand. But the Primarchs indomitable hold was strong. Too strong to simply make him release it. The telekinetic push managed to barely twist Roboute’s hand, making the Hand of Dominion now point directly at Horus’ cheek.

“ **_Duck Horu-_ ** ”

**BLAM!**

The shot echoed across the room even as a splatter of blood, teeth and muscle followed in its wake. Finished by the sound of the fired bolt detonating somewhere on the other side of the room.

His concentration finally broken, Guillimans arm was forced loose, his grip on Horus lost, sending the former Warmaster crashing to the plush carpets of Guillimans quarters.

“It is done.” Slowly spoke the Lord Commander, his heavy breathing being the only sound in the room.

*Everyone holds their breath*

Horus: “Well… that is one undignifying way to go…”  
Roboute: *shrug*

Until…

“Khm-khm-agh!” A very unhealthy cough came from Horus, who was twisting on the floor in agony.

Horus: “What?!”  
Roboute: “The fuck? I missed? I never miss…”  
Leman: “Someone needs to train more with a bolter and spend less time prancing about in ballrooms.”  
Roboute: *Just fucking done*

“What-” Began Guilliman in disbelief, his words cut off as he was dragged away by the Star Child’s astral form and the Corpse Emperor quickly floated to Horus’ twitching body.

“ **If there is such a thing as luck…** ” Murmured Revelation even as Aegidius ran by his restrained, shocked Father and knelt by the Primarch.

All around Horus’ head was blood, his mouth looking like a fountain of the scarlet liquid. The bottom row of his teeth gone, along with his cheeks and part of his tongue, with his enhanced eyes Aegidius could see the burn marks that the bolt left in its wake along with the unnatural way that Horus’ jaw was twisted.

Mortarion: “That one is going to be sore for weeks.”

“The bolt… it went through his cheek.”

“ **Not enough resistance to detonate it luckily, even if it took the bottom row of his teeth.** ”

_ Luck… _ it was lucky that his father had been deployed on the field for so long without proper maintenance of his armour.

Roboute: “I told you that I didn’t miss!”  
Leman: “No yer didn’t!”  
Roboute: “I did! In an… indirect way…”  
Leman: “Doesn't count ya fancy blue colored pansy.”

“Saved… by pure dumb luck…” Whispered Aegidius, not capable of believing the situation. “We should get him some aid!” He said, finally shaking himself from his stupor as he got up and began running for the door.

“Don’t bother.” The somber tone of his father made him halt in his step as he turned around.

“What?”

“Just… look.” Slowly said his father, being released by the Star Child and sheathing the Emperor’s sword before going to rub his eyes in frustration.

Horus was still emitting grunts of pain, but the wounds…

“He is healing already?!”

“ **_One of his greater aspects yes…_ ** ”

Missing teeth were quickly growing to replace broken or missing ones, pushing bone and teeth fragments out as they did so even as his jaw righted itself and cracked bone began to be knitted back together, flesh grew to replace his cheeks and lips as the burns went away and a new tongue formed.

“Aaaagh that… that really, really…” Began Horus as the healing came to a close. “That sucked…”

Roboute watched silently as his Father healed the Archtraitor. His rage slowly subsiding, leaving only a cold hollowness in his chest. His son went over and helped Horus stand.

Slowly beginning to mutter under his breath, Roboute turned and walked to his desk, going around to sit on his favourite chair, opened a drawer and pulled out a tightly sealed crystal decanter from the bottom drawer.

Roboute: “Oh great, I’m going to- wait a minute.”  
Rogal: *Squints*

Aegidius looked at it and recognised it immediately.

Roboute: “Oh no.”  
Fulgrim: “What is it?”  
Roboute: “If it is what I think it is-”  
Ferrus: “What is it?”

It was the legendary  _ Triumphus Potum _ , the finely engraved golden laurels on the decanter marking it as such even as a fresco of the greatest victories adorned it. Everything from the legion being reunited with its Primarch to the last great victory of the Ultramarines legion just before the heresy.

Roboute: “No no no no-”  
Magnus: “I think I’ve heard of that before…”

Only upon those greatest of victories was the decanter opened and shared with the commanders of the battles. Only a shot glasses worth ever being poured per-person.

Sanguinius: “Oh my, that’s so little…”  
Fulgrim: “I… Wow.”

Its taste was said to be legend. Distilled using only the finest Macraggian fruits, combined with Fenrisian plants to make its alcoholic content actually viable for Space Marines and Primarchs; along with being aged for an entire century by the finest Inwitian distillers.

Rogal: “Ah yes. Now I know why this is familiar to me. I believe I brewed that particular… brew… Myself…”  
Roboute: “Exactly…”

Its like was never to be seen again, only about a small kegs worth was ever distilled. About a few regular glasses worth being the only amount that was ever drunk over the course of over twelve whole millennia.

Rogal: *Concern*  
Roboute: “Please no…”  
Leman: “...can I have some?”  
Roboute: “No! Fight an entire war with me and maybe.”  
Leman: “That can be arranged!”

He popped open the cork with the flick of a finger, allowing the scent of the ancient harmonic amasec fill the room, making even Aegidus’ sensitive Aeldari nose respect the gentle, caring scent.

Guilliman brought it to his lips and drank deeply from the decanter as he sat back, staring at Horus, reclining back into his chair, body turned directly towards his brother.

Rogal: “You fucking what brother!?”  
Guilliman: “Stop me! Someone fucking stop future me!”  
Magnus: “And how do you propose we do-”  
Leman: “Ah shite! How is the future me ever supposed to have some!?”  
Guilliman: “Is that all your ruined liver of a brain can come up with right now leman!?”  
Leman: “Oi! Drinking is very important to my cultu-”  
Guilliman: “Don’t you dare play the culture card right now!”

He continued to drink, making even the Emperor’s stare in absolute shock.

For over half a minute the arbour colored liquid continued to pour down the Primarchs throat until every last drop was gone.

Then he uncaringly flung the decanter itself over his shoulder, even as his eyes focused on his brother.

“Explain.”

Guilliman: “Yes please! Fucking explain why I just drunk the most sacred drink in my entire legion over… I’m done!” *Arms thrown up as he sinks into his throne* “I’m done.”

The holovid clicked empty.

“Appropriate timing too…” Guilliman grumbled as he leaned forward, putting his face in both of his hands.

Horus sighed, rubbing his temples exhaustedly. “So… I’m alive and… that was a handful. You could have reacted worse than that. Could have just sprung up and killed me then and there, but you hesitated. So thank you for that.”

“Indeed, a lesson your Father is doomed to never forget. Isn’t that right Revelation?” Malcador grumbled. His grumbles are returned by the Emperor.

Leman snickered from his throne, not able to get over Roboute snapping and drinking so heavily and so uncaringly. “Aye, but now that that is over… Roboute… I believe there is a certain _ Triumphius Portums _ that I would ever so love to tast-”

“It’s ‘ _ Triumphus Portum _ ’! And no! You can’t have any!” Roboute crossed his arms over his chest, not wanting to think about the entire vid that had just transpired before them. Mentally and emotionally exhausted.

“Just like the good old days…” Konrad grumbled to no one in particular.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To answer a question that will no doubt come up:  
> The sequence where Emps and Aegidius see the other Emperors is a nod to the many threads that spawned from the original threads on SpaceBattles. So many people wrote about their own Emperors based off of "If the Emperor Watched TTS" which this fiction is also based off of.
> 
> So yeah, it was a nod to the other threads at the time. There are more now, but still! Not only is it a nod to our fellow thread writers, it's also serves a story purpose. Can't reveal what it is, but it will come up again at some point.
> 
> The next few chapters will come out soon, then Ao3 will be caught up to the thread! Then we can finally write new content again and both will be updated together at the same time. :>


	23. Meanwhile 3 - In which Fulgrim was full of shit this entire time and didn't change despite everything and now has to deal with his own consequences so now we all point and laugh

“I need a fucking break.” Roboute sighed as he leaned forward in his throne. “Preferably a few hours of completely menial paperwork. Days if we can afford it.”

“Fuck the bloody paperwork!” Leman complained. “Future me was just derived from a very damn good drink!”

“Ughhh, I need a break.” Reiterated Roboute even as all of the others found themselves agreeing.

“When is that war-council?” Asked Horus even as Malcador began doing something on his data-slate.

“Hmph, the War Council delegates coming from Terra have been delayed by… their transit paperwork going up in flame-” Malcador glared at the Emperor, who turned away, whistling innocently.

Behind them, a certain Custodes walked inside, then shrunk back when he heard about “burned paperwork”. He shuddered and quickly left, not wanting Uncle Malcador to get mad at him… again.

“I swear Revelation… fine, when they get here the War Council will be called to order. Now, break for an hour, and then lunch.”

“And then we pick this back up!” The Emperor cut in with a wide grin.

“For how long?” Asked Roboute, now checking his itinerary on a data-slate.

“Ohhh not long, the shelf labeled Act 1 is almost finished.”

“That’s a relief…” Muttered Konrad, done with being around his  _ family _ the whole damn time.

“Wait- Act 1? Like a play? How many are there!?” Roboute looked over to find this particular shelf. How much more was there to to torture his son and the Imperium!?

“Ask the trans dimensional chest.” Answered Magnus even as the family looked to the aforementioned chest in the corner of the room. “Maybe it will speak it’s secrets to you, brother.”

“Sarcasm is unbecoming of you, brother.” Roboute quipped, getting up from his throne. “If you shall excuse me, I need a moment to rest. These vids have done nothing for my worries of the future and the present.” He nodded to the family, leaving the viewing room, walking around a serf and uttering an apology to them as he left.

The aforementioned serf entered the room, bearing the insignia of the IIIrd legion, holding a dataslate in their hands. “My Lord Primarch?” He squeaked when all gathered Primarchs looked straight at them, all waiting for the news. “ _ Oh, bad idea to say that here _ \- My Lord Fulgrim! The  _ Pride of the Emperor _ has just come into realspace above Salutis from Chemos, with Princess Rosalina on board as you requested.”

A large smile graced Fulgrim’s face as he immediately stood, “Perfect! Make preparations for her to come down as fast as possible. Have them land on the main landing pad with a complement of Phoenix guard to welcome her with all due honors. I want my daughter in my arms before the hour is up. She can join us for lunch!” He turned to Ferrus, “Come brother! I want you to be the first who meets my little darling. Father, will you be joining us? The line to meet Rosie will be quite long as you know-”

“My son, take time to see your daughter. I can meet her later, I assure you. It must have been ages since you last saw her?” The Emperor waved off Fulgrim, knowing he was practically giddy with excitement.

“Uh, my lord.” Gently interjected the serf.

“Yes, what is it?” Fulgrim quickly answered, almost giddy with excitement.

“The Phoenix guard is currently sparring with the Victrix guard.”

“Well, then recall them.” Fulgrim quickly waved off the issue, seeing how that could easily be fixed.

“On the other side of the continent my lord…?”

“What? How, and why?”

“I too would like to know why.” Roboute said, turning his full attention on to the serf from the hallway, not having gotten far.

“Um, my Lords, you see… they uh…” He trailed off, his mind becoming a frenzy.

“I sent them off.” Horus butted in. “They had a contest going similar to the Blood Games of the Custodians and so I sent them off where they could do no damage along with a few Imperial Fist Huscarls and some of the Iron Circle to help them build a training ground.” The Warmaster huffed. “They haven’t paused for a break yet.”

“Ah. Then this means that I have no honour guard to greet my daughter…” Began Fulgrim, until he felt a massive gentle hand on his shoulder and looked up to see his Father.

“I will lend you some of my Custodes, I require all of my Companions, however I could spare about two dozen to form the proper greeting party.”

Fulgrim’s face was once more graced by a dazzling smile. “Thank you father, kindly appreciated and full heartedly accepted.”

“Isn’t she… I don’t know about children, three?” Said Konrad. “That sounds like complete overkill.” He finished.

“I would hope not.” Fulgrim quickly turned, his mind once more beset with worry. “She barely had her first birthday only… Hmmm, it’s been a while. Ullanor and the viewing sessions have been taking up too much time. She should be nearing two soon- two soon- she will be two soon!” Oh lovely, now he had to plan an impromptu birthday celebration in another… week? Weeks. Definitely weeks. Damn Warp travel...

The serf took this as his cue to leave and quietly slipped away to enact his master’s bidding.

“Ah, they grow so quick.” Cooed Magnus even as the Khan raised an interested eyebrow that screamed, ‘You telling me brother?’

Magnus chuckled even as Fulgrim slowly tuned them out and looked to Ferrus, quickly giving him a nod of his head, receiving merely a nod in return as they both silently stood and walked out of the viewing room, leaving their rambunctious gathering of brothers, Malcador and Father behind.

He walked so fast that Ferrus had to almost run in order to keep up, a big dumb smile on the Gorgons face. While his appreciation of family was not a priority in his life to say the least, his brother's happiness made him appreciate a lot more than he thought capable. Said happiness over his brother's excited behavior only increased as Fulgrim continued to uncharacteristically rant on and on about every single lovely little aspect of Rosalina’s life.

“Oh you are going to simply adore her! She looks so much like me, Ferrus- the way her hair curls by itself makes her look almost like a cherub from the old masterworks! And her little cooing, just like Penelope. I simply know that one day she will grow up to have her smile, she will be the most beautiful little ingenue- not like anyone will ever be good enough for her that is.”

Ferrus let out an uncharacteristic bark of laughter at that. Leave it to his brother to already worry about possible suitors.

After walking, or more like running, for several minutes, they finally reached the main landing pad. Some of the Custodes were already there, others slowly trickled in as they apparently got the order and soon began to form a welcome corridor on the lush red Carpet which led from the golden-marble landing pad and toward the Palace’s massive main entry gate.

The sun was shining brightly, the morning chill long since fading away. Birds, released by the Mechanicum Biologis onto the world singing from their newly made nests even as the wind gently rustled the leaves and pines of the relatively close by trees.

It was a perfect day, to be made only more complete only by dear little Rosalina having to share a touch of this paradise with her father. He couldn’t wait to show her more of the planet, playing with her in the lush green grass, showing her the already beautiful growing garden- oh he hoped she wouldn’t try to eat the dirt again, especially in front of her new Godfather, oh that would be humiliating...

“Brother.” Began Ferrus, rising Fulgrim from his stupor. “You tuned out there for a moment, are you alright? I couldn’t help but notice that the serf only mentioned your daughter. Did you not mention you were married?”

“Oh, yes! Do not worry about me, I’m glad to have my daughter here. While I would have loved for Penelope to be among the living, it was not to be- is that the Stormbird?” He looked up into the sky, his augmented Primarch eyes spotting the purple-gold coloured craft as it broke the atmosphere and quickly approached the landing pad as the Custodes finally tightened their formation and presented their Guardian Spears in parade ground fashion.

After a minute that felt more like an hour to Fulgrim, the Stormbird was hovering above the landing pad, its engines whining loudly as it deployed it’s landing gear and gently touched down. The ramp perfectly pointed toward the path leading away from the landing pad, and central to the corridor of Custodes.

Fulgrim could hardly wait! After so long, he would get to see his little darling again! Ferrus by his side, two lines of Custodes to greet her, oh his other brothers were there but- oh! He just wanted her to be there- and why wouldn’t the ramp come down faster!?

The aforementioned ramp was indeed dropping down slowly. Fulgrim could see the heads of what he assumed were now Rosalina’s Handmaids and Tutors along with some of his Space Marines that he set the task of guarding her.

But, there was the form of another...

The ramp finally finished opening, coming down to allow its occupants to exit and what Fulgrim saw both made him nearly cry in joy and go completely white in desperation. His daughter was there, beautiful blond-silver locks of hair surrounding a tiny smiling wonderful face of his daughter clothed in a beautiful dress.

And she was holding someone's hand.

His eyes slowly trailed up...

Seeing that she was holding the hand of his  **wife** .

Ah. Yes, Rhea. Of course she was here. Why wouldn’t she be there with them? He did marry her much later after Penelope… So of course, why wouldn’t she be a part of the gathering? He did pause as he looked at the expression she wore… why was she angry at him  _ this  _ time?

She looked about as he remembered, long blonde hair freely flowing down her shoulders and ending at her mid back, dark green eyes looking at him with what he recognized as barely contained spite, sunkissed skin covered by a low plunging black and purple gown of the finest of silks, hand wrapped around their daughter’s own smaller one.

Rhea was livid, but still plastered a smile on her face for everyone. Salutis, after all, had very  _ very _ quickly become the centre of political attention after it became public that the Royal Family had made it their home. There could be spies anywhere, gossipers ready to jump on the latest developments and social hounds that could make her life more of a nightmare than it already was.

But the smile she put on made Fulgrim’s guard rise, the hope for a relaxing time with his family being dashed before his very eyes. With that much spite in her eyes, he wondered what kind of show she was going to put on. Perhaps it must be karma. He sat back, judging everyone else on their parenting and family skills, yet here he was, about to act out a play without knowing his lines.

They were both knocked out of their thoughts by the combination of the clang of the ramp finally touching down and the Custodes all standing at attention. Causing a very comical, wide-eyed look to overcome all of the Stormbirds passengers, the only exception being the Space Marines and Rosalina herself, who was looking about in just plain old confusion and curiosity. As if she could sense the tension.

Then her eyes landed on Fulgrim.

“Da-dada!” She cried out as she suddenly took off, her mother's shock making the grip on her hand loose enough that she was able to slip out of it easily and run down to the landing pad on wobbly little legs, before making a beeline for her father.

“Dada!” She babbled out as she ran as fast as her legs could take without making her fall over.

The sound of his daughter's sweet little voice was enough to snap Fulgrim back to reality, immediately crouching down low and leaving his arms wide open for her. When did his little girl start walking? He missed her first steps! “Rosie! My angel! Come to father!”

He took two big steps and she managed to stumble into his arms as he swiftly lifted her to his massive full standing height even as she squealed in laughter and joy at the action. He gave her many kisses on her chubby cheeks, desperate to make up for lost time.

“You have grown so much!” He started as he held her slightly away from himself. Desperate to take in any and all details. “Just look at you! Walking already! Running too! Last I saw you, you hadn’t quite got that yet. But you were marvelous, darling, simply marvelous!”

Rosaline cooed and laughed at her father's actions, not understanding much but happy to finally see him again. “Dada happy?”

“More happy than you can imagine! Ah! You’re going to be speaking in full sentences soon! Oh, I can’t wait to see everything you do, my sweet little berry.” He made kissing sounds as he snuggled her close to him.

There was a gentle cough from his side, and Fulgrim looked up at Ferrus.

“Oh my, and would you look who is here? Someone you never met before!” He gently swayed her to the side so Ferrus could have a better look. “This is your uncle Ferrus! Your new Godfather!”

There was a sputtering noise from the Stormbird as it’s passengers appeared to finally be roused from their shock over seeing the Emperor’s personal guard.

“Well. Rosie is quite thrilled to see you. And you are too.” Rhea got her husband's attention, walking down the ramp, making way straight for him. “Isn’t this nice? A paradise world healed by the Emperor and his sons. Only the finest, the cream of the crop of Imperial bureaucracy,  _ invited  _ here.” 

Rosalina did not appear to care much about her mother's words, instead looking in awe at her new found uncle's metallic shiny hands. “Shi-shiny!” She managed to squawk out the word even as she pointed with one of her tiny little chubby fingers towards the appendages.

Ferrus raised an eyebrow and glanced towards his brother who gave him a gentle nod, as if signaling that it was alright. The Gorgon very gently raised one of his arms and offered it to the little princess, who gurgled a very happy sounding noise as she very quickly ran her hands all over Ferrus’ hand.

“Shiny!” She continued to squeal, making a very slow but genuine smile appear on Ferrus’ face.

“Rhea.” Fulgrim slowly intoned, gently bowing his head in acknowledging her presence. “Of course, welcome to Salutis.” He replied, refusing to rise to her obvious attempts at twisting a proverbial knife in his gut.

“So this is where you have been sauntering off for weeks? And here I thought you were off participating in the Great Crusade.” She asked yet again even as Rosalina continued to be mesmerised by Ferrus’ hands, much to the Primarchs amusement.

Fulgrim gave a slight frown. “All to be addressed soon my darling wife _. _ Then I will be able to focus much,  _ much _ more on family.”

The threat was lost to everyone but the two. But they both knew what it meant far too well. They were going to be seeing each other a lot more after all this was over. Best get used to it again.

“Oh, but of course. Family should come first, you know. I recall you saying that to my father quite a few times before.”

“Having well done fortified norms in one's family is the perfect foundation for an impregnable fortress.” Came a deep booming voice.

The group turned towards the entrance into the Palace, seeing Rogal Dorn standing there in his full armour with an army of scribes, serfs and a very busy looking Perturabo, who was currently giving orders to some of their entourage behind him.

Rosalina blinked owlishly, before pointing at Rogal and saying, “Wall man! Iron man!”

Perturabo quickly turned away even as he let loose a bark of laughter. “An observant one, I will give her that.” He commented even as he smiled genuinely.

“This… is true.”

“Rogal, brother, what are you doing here?”

“Rogal?” Said a very surprised Rhea. “As in, Rogal Dorn? The Praetorian?” Her heart beat a little faster, suddenly realizing that she might be in even deeper than she originally thought. The Custodes were already an indication for that, Ferrus was nothing unusual, her husband and him were typically together she heard. But the Praetorian, here, now? “Yes, yes of course, as I recall, the  _ entire  _ Imperial Family-” She gave a look to Fulgrim very quickly before once more looking at Rogal. “-is supposed to be here. It is a pleasure to meet you all.” Oh… being around so many high standing members of society… It was making her head ache.

“A pleasure.” Rather plainly spoke Perturabo even as Rogal barely nodded, obviously thinking about his work.

“I shall order the expansion of your quarters.” He finally said, looking at Fulgrim.

“Brother?” Asked Fulgrim in confusion even as Rogal gestured towards Rosalina, who was now playing around with one of Ferrus’ mechadendrites, and Rhea.

“You now require a Nursery along with a grander bed and wardrobe space to be added onto your apartments.”

“I-Uh Rogal that is not-”

“Dibs on the crib.” Spoke Perturabo, looking at- wood samples? Which of the serfs had been carrying that?

“Deal.” Agreed Rogal. “The bed is mine to make.” There was a sigh from the Olympian. “Fine, you do have more experience in that area I will admit.”

“I don’t require much space, Lord Dorn. I barely take up much space compared to my husband, so accommodations aren’t really required. But please, I only ask you to spare nothing for Rosie’s comfort.” Rhea explained, waving at him gently. She hated when people started to do things like this...

Rogal looked at her in turn. “Not to worry, dearest sister-in-law. Everything shall be done to perfection _. _ ” Rhea felt for some reason as if Rogal wasn’t exclaiming his claims at all… This trip was going to be the death of her.

“Rogal, brother, we do not actually require a double be-”

Rogal wasn’t listening to him apparently however, as- Where did Perturabo pull a full wooden model of a crib from? And why did it look so perfect for his little princess!?

“It looks perfect for her!” Both Rhea and Fulgrim exclaimed together, then paused as they looked at each other, then away. They couldn’t bear to look straight at each other at the moment.

“Glad you both approve.” Spoke up Perturabo.

“Indeed, an easy adaptation.” Added on Rogal. “Now excuse us please, brothers, sister in law. We are required at the Raven’s Tower. The Raven Guard and Night Lords have been playing hide and seek with jump-packs and managed to leave burn stains on the marble. We wish you a good rest of the day” With that, Rogal along with Perturabo finally headed off, army of serfs and scribes in tow.

“Ba-bye!” Babbled Rosaline as she waved a chubby little hand after her two new found uncles.

“They certainly are quite the pair.” Rhea commented, blinking quickly. “I suppose it would be best for us to get settled in, no doubt you’re going to whisk Rosalina away. But don’t worry  _ darling _ , I believe we have lunch together?”

It was at that moment that Rosalina actually bit onto Ferrus’ hand, bringing attention to the little girl.

“Tuff!” She muttered, even as she continued to gnaw on the metal hand, much to everyone's amusement and Ferrus’ absolute delight over someone finally not being afraid of him.

“So then.” Spoke Fulgrim. “A tour?”

...

  
  


“-I swear, walking with him is an ordeal I do not wish to be subjected to. That entire tour I felt as if he would rather I be anywhere else than there with him and his precious  _ brother _ . How the hell am I going to deal with him for the entirety of this… holiday is too strong a term for this trip.” Rhea turned on her heel and quickly broke from her shared space with Fulgrim. Ignoring all of the laboring serfs that were building furniture and adding on an  _ entire _ nursery. The speed of warmasons set to do peacetime building when they had a passion for it was beyond astonishing, they promised to be done after lunch!

Leaving the apartments, she instead focused her mind on her husband, feeling the unshown spite coursing even harder through her mind.

She was livid with him. How dare he act as if nothing is wrong? He didn’t invite her to this planet and had the gall to not even fess up to it when confronted? Here she was, hoping to shove his face into his own mistake and maybe to make him feel a bit terrible, but now… Everything was back firing! Why did she think this was a good idea!? She should have just accepted that only Rosie got invited and stayed behind!

Oh, who was she kidding? She would have gone mad not having Rosie with her! She wished she could just get a moment alone. And lunch! Lunch was fast approaching and she was still livid with him and she didn’t know what she was going to do! The entire family was here and she was dying on the inside! Being around him and Ferrus wasn’t so bad, but all of them? At once? Just imagining the upcoming nightmare was causing her stomach to upend itself as if it was part of a trapeze act!

The Praetorian was… well, the definition of handsome. And if all she heard about Horus Lupercal the Warmaster himself was true then… ohhh she knew about transhuman dread of course, being surrounded by Space Marines all the time tended to eventually make you immune, but Primarchs were a whole other deal!

She doubted they would use their charms and station to do anything lecherous- why the very thought was ludicrous even to herself! But the thought, the knowledge of what some of them have done, the whispers of maids and noble ladies does little to abate the wild imaginations of a frustrated wife.

Maybe she could give herself an injury and skip lunch all together… Breaking a leg shouldn’t be too hard, just need some stairs, a misstep in these heels and presto!

Yes, breaking her leg sounds like a marvelous idea. No sitting around a bunch of Primarchs and her husband and instead time of solitude away from everyone. Brilliant.

But then, wait, who knew how long they would be staying anyway? And that would mean that she could possibly be declared too difficult to move and have to stay here even longer! And sharing a room… a bed with her husband! She could not handle that type of pressure again!

Maybe death would be better. Just find a high enough window, a step forward and there. Problems solved.

No, killing herself wouldn’t fix anything. It’d make everything worse… Some random hussy would be taking care of her daughter! No, that would not do. Perhaps she could find a place to hole up in and just wait out this torture… If Penelope was here she would know what to do in this situ-

...no. No, she wasn’t here, if she was, she wouldn’t even be here. She bet Fulgrim would have remembered to invite Penelope…

Before long, Rhea found herself practically lost in this maze of a palace. Nothing was recognizable, she couldn’t have gone too far. She was only… Wait how long was she walking? Ohhh… She did it now. She got so far into her own head, she got lost!

This was going to be bad! She could imagine Fulgrim using this against her! He just got done giving her a tour of the palace not even minutes ago and yet here she was, wasting that valuable time and knowledge! Stupid, stupid, stupid, oh her mother was right, this is going badly, she was going to ruin everying again-!

Oh! She could ask one of the many serfs and scribes running around… if she could find any! There were zero! None! Nulla! Though for some reason, the amount of Custodes increased dramatically…

She found them discomforting. They served only the Emperor after all, she could feel their looks on her back anytime she went by one.

No. Asking them for help was out of the question. She would just want to kill herself even more from having to speak to one of them and admit she was lost. They were also too tall and imposing. Too scary.

Maybe she could use the furniture as a marker as to where she was in the palace? Or the Custodes themselves? They were getting different, these were now wearing Red cloaks over their armour. That had to mean something right?

Ohhh, she could use an Iho-stick. She quit as soon as she found out that she was carrying Rosie, but every now and then after her pregnancy she had one or two, just to calm her nerves and for the taste.

Eventually, she had to rest, turning into the first door she could find, surprised when the door was opened by the Custodes for her. She mumbled out a thank you as she practically ran into the room, not hearing as the Custodes closed the door after her.

The room in front of her was richly decorated. A very tasteful hand was obviously behind its artifice. Golden laced curtains to contrast the fluffy red carpet underneath her heels and the massive windows which let in a very generous amount of sunlight.

From what she memorized in color theory and her studies of art, the symbolage behind these choices weren’t lost on her. She must have been in a part reserved for members of the Imperial Army perhaps? The high ranking ones, if she were to wager a guess. The almost military feel definitely would support her theory...

Her theory was only strengthened when she spotted some Iho-sticks and their bigger brothers presented on the table in front of her. Calling out to her with a sweet song...

Without thinking, she quickly grabbed one and walked toward the window. She put it in her mouth even as she stared out at the very beautiful gardens- was that a Custodes without his armour, painting? She heard that they did more than just fight but, wow, to think they would let their guard down this far away from the Emperor.

And there was another, in his armour, carefully polishing what appeared to be a flamer. He was absolutely  _ massive _ for a Custodes from what she had seen so far though.

She continued to roll the iho-stick in her mouth, remembering that she was lacking a light. She grabbed it with her hand and looked around for one, failing to spot one.

“Damn it all…” She muttered even as she looked back at the table where she had originally picked the iho-stick up from.

Only to hear the sound of snapping fingers as a little tiny flame appeared in front of her.

“Oh…” She recoiled slightly before gently bringing up the Iho-stick and lighting it even as the flame withered away and she took a nice long drag.

She felt her lungs fill with the comforting smoke and familiar scent, surprised at the quality even though she probably shouldn’t have been even as she blew out any of the remaining smoke. She was definitely going nuts...

“When did my life get so out of control?”

“I wish I could answer that.” Came an incredibly deep and rich voice from her side.

“I’m going so insane that I am hearing voices now…” She muttered.

“Not the case, madam.” A very raspy, ancient voice now spoke as well.

She stopped, hand going still as she held the iho-stick close to her mouth, turning gently to her left and seeing two men sitting at a large, gold and mahogany desk. One being an older man in heavy robes and leaning against his staff while sitting in a plush chair before the desk. The other, the larger than life man with a shining golden aura about him, wearing finely made robes of red, gold and white sat at the head of the desk, both men staring at her.

“Oh… Oh your your your-” She trailed off, feeling her mind go into a state of complete and utter shock.

“I’m...” Slowly spoke the one sitting behind the desk, a light smile playing on his lips even as a sigh was heard from the hooded one.

“Your-your-” She continued stuttering, going almost catatonic.

“Yes.” He motioned for her to go on.

“Your- your- your majes-”

The door to the office was opened by the Custodes and in walked an absolutely massive man, wearing plain, but very tasteful clothing.

“Father, I need you to give me permission to order more Alpha class medicine. I need another shipment from Terra, Angron’s kid has been using all of-”

The man trailed off as he spotted her. His bald head turned to look at her direction.

“Oh, greetings. You must be Fulgrim’s wife! There can be no mistaking that style of dress.” He said with good humor, even as he approached her and stuck out a hand. “I’m Horus Lupercal, Warmaster. But just call me Horus.”

Her mind was going on full overdrive, everything she was feeling from day one on Chemos and she met Fulgrim, all the way from then to now with every single memory flitting through her mind as she recalled it all. Surprisingly, more anger and hurt came to mind as the flood gates opened and she felt it all. Everything was crashing down around her and all of her deepest fears, thoughts were coming forth. It was all too much and she just… That was the final straw. She felt the world go black as she fainted directly into the hands of Horus who quickly caught her with his Primarch reflexes.

Malcador looked at the collapsed woman then back at Revelation. “Can we not have one moment to ourselves?”

Revelation shrugged, “Things just happen. Horus, lay her on one of the couches. She’ll be up in no time.”

Horus easily lifted her and moved to gently lay her on the luscious black couch even as the Emperor stood and walked over, Malcador excusing himself and hobbling out of the office.

“Father?” Questioned Horus as the Emperor waved him off.

“Leave whatever you want me to do with one of my aides, I will fix this up.”

Horus smiled with a thanks and walked out even as the Emperor gently placed his hand on Rhea’s forehead, gently moving away the golden locks of her hair even as he used his psychic powers to maneuver the iho-stick out of her death grip and into an ashtray.

“My my… that is one tomoltuous mind.” He spoke slowly, focusing his psychic powers and clearing out some of the rubble.

It must have been a short spell, but within the same minute, Rhea was coming back. She groaned as she ran a hand along her head, blearily looking up. “...I’m going crazy…”

“Not really. Just a lot on your mind.” The Emperor answered, smiling down at Rhea, who squawked before sitting up and looking wildly around.

“I-... I’m sorry-” She babbled before going silent and letting the Emperor speak.

“No worries, my dear. You just seem to have a lot on your mind, and people with troubles just seem to gravitate towards me.” A shrug, “So tell me, what is ailing you?” He already knew, but was wondering if she would consider talking about it and him maybe steering her away from-

“I want to divorce Fulgrim.” She blurted out a nanosecond after he finished speaking.

...or she could blurt it out right from the get go. That worked too?

After making sure that she wasn’t just a stark raving lunatic, and genuinely was his son's wife, the Emperor offered Rhea another Iho-stick along with a glass of water that a servant brought in. Both of which she gratefully took.

He sat down on a nearby recliner even as she laid down fully, her head resting on some of the fluffy decorative pillows.

After taking a sip of her water and many long drags of her Iho-stick that clouded the study with the noxious smoke from her chosen poison she would  _ deny _ what happened next to her dying breath. Rhea  _ ranted _ at The Emperor of Mankind.

She ranted about her marriage, her family, Fulgrim, her station, her inadequacy, her frustrations and any problem that happened to pass by her mind. Barely stopping for a drag or a sip, she got all of her anger out at once until she screamed out how much she wanted a divorce and ended with her heaving breaths in the now silent study.

To his credit, the Emperor appeared to listen to every word, stepping in only to fix and make sure she said something the right way.

In fact, he appeared to be enjoying this in some weird way! He had this gentle encouraging smile on his face and sometime during this he had a pair of half-moon glasses appear along with an ancient notepad and an actual pen! Who used those things anymore!?

She ranted until she told him her entire marriage and even before with Fulgrim. All up to today, and why she practically barged into his study. After careful consideration and staying quiet for a full five minutes after, the Emperor finally came up with a hypothesis.

“Alright. Both you, and my son… are a couple of idiots.”

Rhea sighed, taking a long drag from her relit Iho-stick. “I know. I know I’m an idiot, flailing around in a court and in a job that I am far from being qualified for. I try my best to learn everything I need to, to move around the court, to be a good Planetary Governor while my  _ husband _ is off… But it’s not enough. Everyone talks about me, they say how any of my older sisters would be better for the job, how…” She paused, another drag as she clenched a hand into her skirt as she glared out the window. “...How Penelope would have been better to have around than I would.”

“Wait, how do you know about all of that talk?”

“It’s impossible to escape it wherever I go. Penelope did such a great job as Planetary Governor when she was alive. I recall that many of the nobles were around when she reigned, constantly reminiscing of the time as if it was the second coming of… well, you. Talk of her reign only increased when I married Fulgrim, the younger sister of Penelope, she must be as good as Penelope, she has Penelope’s blood- I swear, it makes me sick.”

“I see, and are you then being challenged at court over it? Are your advisors proposing a change?”

“No… No, they barely challenge me at all. Everyone assumes I know what I’m doing since I’m Penelope’s  _ sister  _ after all. And even if they have a problem with my work, they don’t have to wait long until Fulgrim decides to show his shiny white haired ass around and he takes charge again. That’s how it works.” She took another drag, her nerves calming with each breath. “It doesn’t matter what  _ I _ do, because when he comes back his word is higher than my own and he’ll overwrite everything I have done. If I’ve done anything of note, for that matter.”

“Mhm.” Gently hummed the Emperor even as he noted something down on his notepad.

“Dare I ask, what's the point? I was never meant to rule! I had three sisters in front of me,  _ three!  _ Hell, even my younger sister has more experience in governorship than I do. I had to have lessons shoved down my throat on the eve of my own wedding instead of enjoying the time I had before the  _ happiest day of my life _ or whatever that is supposed to mean anymore.”

She took a long, final drag of the iho-stick before smothering it in a nearby floating ashtray.

“The point?” Calmly stated the Emperor. “The point is, my dear daughter in law-” She gave a visible wince. “-that rulers are rarely truly elected by a vote. Especially on Legion homeworlds. It is simply the necessity. Believe me, I have seen humanity in its entirety, democracy and dictatorships. None are the best at everything and all have their drawbacks. But when something is placed upon your shoulders you must either have the decency to immediately step down from it or rise up to the challenge.”

“My Emperor, I don’t know what I’m doing! Everything I’m doing, everything I am- none of this is me! I studied at an Art School and wanted to be a part of the Remembrancer Core before I was dragged off to meet Fulgrim and then the next thing I knew- we’re getting married! I hate having my hair long like this, I hate wearing gowns all the time, I hate going to high society parties, I hate nobles, I hate wearing these stupid shoes and everything! I hate it all!” She let out a loud groan, covering her face.

The Emperor took a big long breath, even as he noted something down again. “On that note, it’s clear to me… that Fulgrim erred massively here.”

She looked at him, eyes wide. “Pardon? Are you saying that Fulgrim was wrong? Your very own son?”

“Is that honestly so hard to believe?”

“Well to be fair… no offense your majesty-”

“Please, just Emperor, or Father if you would like.”

“I uh, my Emperor.” That felt  _ incredibly _ weird to say in such an informal manner. “-uh  _ Father _ .” The Emperor’s grin indicated that he did not mind in the damned slightest. “Well, rumors spread and people talk, and the last time anyone spoke against your will… well, there are people who speak of Colchis.”

The Emperor’s face swiftly turned into a remorseful frown. “A mistake on my part. One well intentioned, but also one that missed the mark. Too severe. I would never censor anyone simply because they point out my son's flaws.”

“If that is your stance, then… which part of this was his fault?”

The Emperor leaned back in his chair, pulling out a- was that a smoking  _ pipe!? _ Where the hell did he get those props? And lit it up with a match? Seriously, who used those nowadays?

“Please, don’t take this the wrong way. But, picking you.”

A bubble of laughter came from her, a hand covering her mouth as she nodded. “I agree, no doubt. I was a horrible choice, really. All of this isn’t… me. If anything, it’s like my sisters. Joan, Kali, Susanna…  _ Penelope…  _ All of them are so much better at being noble ladies, my own little sister, Susanna, is better at all of this than I am! By all accounts, I completely agree. I was one of the worst choices Fulgrim could have picked for a noble wife to care for his home while he’s gone. I’m honestly surprised the planet hasn’t gone up in flames!”

“Mhm.” Hummed along the Emperor even as he continued noting something down. “Yes, I am beginning to see the bigger picture here. My son was driven by an emotional attachment and picked you because of… reasons, and you were never destined to rule anything, being the fourth one in line and all that.”

“Exactly! How was I supposed to be capable of anything!? They were giving me court classes and etiquette lessons well into the night and the moments when I was putting on my damned wedding dress! Do you have any idea how I felt? They stuffed me into a mold that I was never meant for, never trained for. And nothing  _ fits! _ Nothing! Not this dress, not these shoes that hurt my feet anytime I-” She bent over and quickly grabbed and flung one of her high heels, it flying over and landing in the burning grand fireplace on the opposite end behind the Emperor’s grand desk, the Emperor merely raised an eyebrow at this and noted something down in his notepad. “-and then keeping my hair nice all the damn time, and making sure the servants use  _ all _ of the 26 scented soaps when helping me wash and ugh…  _ bathing _ takes an hour alone! Everyday! I never cared for the finer aspects of noble life, nor did I care about being a prim, proper daughter of my father. I was the kid who played in the dirt and made dirt cakes and tracked muddied footprints across the mansion and… and... I’m unhappy…”

“I see…” The Emperor hummed even as he noted another thing down.

“And don’t even get me started on the lack of a sex life I have with my own husband- Maybe I shouldn’t talk about that with you…” She chuckled, nervous about having  **that** blurt out of her mouth, only to look up at a red faced Emperor.

“No… please, spare the details. I’d prefer you go on the rough cut.” He coughed into his hand before quickly reinserting the pipe into his mouth.

“Well… Rough cut it is… All I’ll say is that we don’t share a room or a bed, we avoid each other if possible. Hell, I can count on one hand how many times we… you know. Of our own volition.” She waved a hand, her own face going red, sharing in the embarrassment with him. “Why, I was severely embarrassed and betrayed on our first night as husband and wife. He- during our first night together… he screamed  **my sisters name** when he… when he-”

“Hold up! Quite enough, thank you!” The Emperor coughed. “So… he thought of your sister… his previous wife. During the height of his eh…” The Emperor made a motion with the hand holding his pipe.

“Yes.”

“I see… Penelope seems to be the root of this entire situation. May you do me the favour to describe Penelope, please?”

“Well, I suppose… she had long, curling blonde locks of hair the same as our Father, dark green eyes like myself. We both share the same slightly darker skin tone as our mother. The two of us looked quite alike, not compared to the rest of our sisters. She was always clean, perfectly put together, perfectly dainty, perfectly charming, tended to wear perfect long dresses that showed off just how ‘gifted’ she was, she loved wearing dresses you know.”

“And the shoes to match?”

“Yes and the damned shoes to match! Heels are the bane of my existence, I’d throw them all into a fire if I could. But _suddenly,_ oh, suddenly! I _had_ to! Because it’s ‘the proper thing as the Primarchs Wife’! And then there is all of the damned jewelry! Heavy, ugly creations that always feel as if I am wearing a collar like some type of pampered canid. I had a few necklaces I really liked you know! Now I had to wear everything she used to wear because ‘that is what the Lady of the Primarch wears’ and…” She trailed off, her mind going blank. Something brewing deep inside of her that made her already volatile self even angrier.

“Yes. I believe you are finally catching on…”

“He is… he is…”

“Go on.”

“ _ He _ ! That  _ bastard _ ! That sly fucker!”

“Please, you are almost there.”

“He would  _ dare _ to replace my dead sister with myself! All because we happen to look alike! I knew it! I knew there was no plausible reason for him to want me, I fucking knew that cunt had an ulterior motive! To replace her with me- I can hardly believe the sheer audacity! It was always there, I knew I was never good enough, everyone said so- But to actually see and know it to be true... I hate him. I hate him and I cannot bear to be married to his selfish, arrogant, manipulative self any longer!” She panted even as her rant stopped, going slightly pink faced from once again ranting at her father-in-law. She wanted to scream and cry and rip off her own wedding band and throw it across the room as if it were a burning, cursed artifact.

“Yes, there, you see? Getting it out works! Now, was there anything good that you consider coming out of this marriage?”

“Yes.” She immediately answered, “I know the one good thing that came out of this shipwreck of a marriage. Rosie. Rosalina is the one good- no, she is the one great, perfect thing that came out of this whole catastrophe.”

The Emperor noted something down again, a small smile on his face as he did so.

“You’d love her, Father. She’s just a little angel, always so happy and good and just- She is so good! Not compared to Fulgrim or I. She is everything to me, even if my family sees me as the black sheep, even if people constantly compare me to Penelope, I know that she will always see me as the best mum in the galaxy… she is my precious daughter.”

She looked at the Emperor, a fierce look in her eyes.

“When we divorce, if my  _ husband-”  _ She spat out the word as if it was poison. “-thinks that he can take her from me, he has another thing coming.”

“I believe that, to the deepest part of my heart. You have my promise he will not do so. I do not blame you if divorce is what you want, but if you are willing to give it a second try, the both of you must work to repair this relationship. He has erred and he will fix his ways, but you are in a place of compromise. I am sad to say, you will both be needed to fix these issues, one person can’t repair the bridge lest they fall into the depths that separate you two. Not to worry, I will be there to help, along with the rest of the family!”

She was about to respond, when suddenly, there was a tapping noise coming from one of the windows. They looked over and saw as a Custodes slammed a canvas on the window. Rhea noticed that it was the one with the flamer and the painting was… a beautiful sunset, with a pagoda style building and what she remembered from her lectures on Kamikian art styles to be cherry blossom trees.

The Custodes was wildly pointing at it and appeared to be very excited. Then he noticed her.

He quickly snatched away the canvas, and with unprecedented precision, burned the canvas then and there, causing the Custodes who actually painted it to throw his hands in the air before pointing and shouting something at the Flamerstodes even as he turned around, flamer still in hand, and made the ‘I’m watching you’ motion.

“I uh… should I be worried?” She asked, in obvious shock over the event.

The Emperor waved a dismissive hand- wait! Where the hell did the glasses, pipe and pen go!? He then tore off a couple of notes from his notepad, before carefully handing it to her.

She took them gently with her carefully manicured hands. Before reading them aloud.

“Number one… beat Mal’s ass at regicid-”

“Wrong one!” The Emperor quickly spoke, the note being surprisingly gently tugged from out of her hands by an unseen force and flying towards the Emperor, who caught it effortlessly.

“I uh…” She looked at the next one and read. “Number one… couples therapy,  **A LOT** of couples therapy.” She murmured at that in slight agreement. “Number two… a swift kick to Fulgrim’s egotistical sack.” She looked up in shock.

“Don’t do it literally please… but I think you know what that means. You need to stand up for yourself.”

“I’ll try, but don’t hold your breath…” She shrugged, then continued to read, “Comment, reveal that you have full support of his Father…” Her eyes went only slightly wide at this. “Number three… change your painful ass wardrobe to something still ladylike but more comfortable.” She looked up, everything down from her eyes covered by the paper and murmured a silent thank you. “Number four...take court lessons and wave off the fact that you think your advisors and the court is avoiding and ignoring you. Don’t worry, they aren’t. And Fulgrim isn’t going to change much when you're standing ruler.” She blinked, “That… That isn’t true-”

“I don’t think they do. Have you perhaps thought that it’s you who thinks they do?”

“What- That doesn’t make sense.” She mumbled, “They always compare me to Penelope. Always.”

“The Rumor mill is always louder than the act that actually spawned it in the first place. Much louder in fact. Keep that in mind and please, read on.”

She sighed then continued to read the final point. “Number five… share Rosalina and make sure she isn’t caught in the crossfire. You both love her, make it work because of her. And if you ever fix up that part, maybe have... more... children…”

She stopped, read that last line one more time. But it still wasn’t making sense- no, she read it a second time. Then a third. Then she looked up at him, a huge frown on her face. “What makes you think we’re going to have more children? We barely stand each other- and I highly doubt that the both of us are going to magically fix all of our problems. No. It’s not happening.” She folded the page to cover that last part, ignoring the last part. But the first half did make sense. She merely hoped she wouldn't blow her lid off when she looked at Fulgrim after the massive revelation she had.

The Emperor whistled lightly. “You might be surprised. My son is a sentimental, blind idiot who is far too in love with the past.” He reached over and placed a gentle hand on her bare shoulder. “Make him love you. Not your sister.”

“...and what makes you think I want to love him again?” She stopped, almost speaking about that time long ago. She couldn’t bear to look at her father-in-law. “I’m not the same young girl I was when I first met him, before he married Penelope. Time and rejuvenation treatments does a lot to a person. I could not bear going back to that time when everything was… simpler.”

“There was a passion there once. I see it.” He leaned back into his chair. “You just need to rekindle it.”

She sighed, even as a servant walked in.

“Your majesty.” The servant bowed his head. “Lunch is about to be served.”

The Emperor stood even as the servant scurried off, then he offered a hand to his daughter-in-law who hesitantly took it and rose to her stocking covered feet, reminding her that one of her heels was still burning in the fireplace.

The Emperor appeared to notice her predicament. “Do you wish to summon a servant for some new shoes or...?”

She waved a hand and let out a small chuckle. “No… all of the shoes I brought along are so high-heeled I feel like killing myself anytime I put them on. Fuck it, the place is clean enough, I’m going like this.”

The Emperor smiled slightly even as he began walking.

“Oh uh, wait a second please.” The Emperor turned to face her again. “I uh… am genuinely lost.”

The Emperor’s smile only got wider as he spoke. “Feel free to join me then.”

She smiled back and quickly padded over to his side, quickly transitioning from lush carpet to colder marble as they walked out of the door of his study and were joined by the sound of clanging Power Armour as the two Custodians who guarded the door began following them at a modest distance behind.

As they walked in comfortable silence, Rhea finally allowed the sheer beauty of the Palace and Salutis to be noticed by her.

She noticed the delicate and precise craftsmanship that went into this palace, every little bit had its place. Every piece of furniture, every colour, every material. All carefully considered and used in the most beautiful and fitting fashion imaginable.

It may not have matched the sheer terrifying grandeur of the Imperial Palace on Terra, nor the statement of that Palaces rare materials and honours. But that was because it was never meant to.

The nature surrounding this palace, so abundant in this world, given a second life was replanted there and carefully tended to minimally for a reason.

It was because this palace wasn’t meant to give a statement or to hold massive political meetings or multiple massive organizations or Space Marine Legions.

It was because this Palace was meant to be a  _ home _ . Warm and inviting, comfortable and with a touch of homegrown beauty. A retreat from both the political and literary battlefields respectively. A place of rest and relaxation.

And that, she could respect.

“Who was the one who designed this palace? It’s far beyond my professors at the college.” She idly asked, drinking in the beauty of it all.

“Oh, Rogal and Perturabo of course. Your brothers-in-law.” The Emperor answered in a proud tone.

“Ah, I may have insulted Lord Perturabo then… I was so excited to meet the Praetorian that I… may have brushed off his presence… I will have to apologize for that…” She chuckled to herself nervously, remembering the talk of the IVth Primarch and his infamous temper.

“Did he so happen to be standing next to Rogal at the time?” Timidly asked the Emperor.

“...yes…”

“Ah, that tends to happen quite a lot. He is far less noticeable as he tends to let any building he has made do the talking for him. Quite surprising considering Rogal’s quiet character as well but ah, what can you do. He will be very happy that you find it beautiful.”

“Of course I find it beautiful! How open and inviting the entire structure is, the color choices and even the strategic placing of the windows gives off an energy of welcome and comfort.” She nodded to herself, “It doesn’t work if you just make it look nice, you have to work to make someone feel something when they look at your creation.”

“Ah, the artist within you. Yet another common thing you might find with your husband.”

She blew some air even as she spoke. “As if, he paints and designs, yes. But  _ everything _ has to be perfect, if he finds even one teeny tiny flaw, it’s scrap it and start over.” She rolled her eyes, “it’s exhausting. The flaws in art is what makes it so interesting to look at. If you want a perfect mirror to real life, then take a pict! Art is more than just perfect paint on a perfect canvas in a perfect setting.”

The Emperor nodded along even as they got to one of the Grand doors leading into the massive dining room. “You are completely correct.”

The dining room was revealed to the both of them, one wall was almost entirely made of windows that looks out towards one of the gardens, their curtains a fine, sheer quality to frame their look outside. The noon light made the room bloom in radiance, reflecting off of the marble floor. The other three walls were supported by fine pillars, reaching towards the curved ceiling, where sconces were only barely lit, to brighten up the parts where the natural light flowing in didn’t reach. A couple of fireplaces were built into the opposite wall of the windowed one, in between the spaces from where they entered and the two other walls. All three sharing double grand doors that lead elsewhere.

In the middle, there was a long dining table that had enough room for twenty two seating places for whom she assumed was the Emperor and his family to sit. The table was almost taller than her, she was nearly eye level with the flat surface.

There were already two occupants at the table, Lord Perturabo and who she assumed to be Lord Guilliman. Both Primarchs looked to be engrossed with their respective data-slates, working until lunch would be served. They both immediately looked up as soon as their Father walked in, both giving their greetings.

While the Emperor went to speak with Lord Guilliman first, Rhea took this opportunity to speak with Lord Perturabo. Only problem was, the seating arrangements were for  _ Primarchs _ , and she was just a baseline…

A servant cleared their throat from behind her, a couple more behind them as well, carrying a taller seat for her. She thanked them as they set her up in her own spot at the table, helping her into her seat and leaving a stepping stool beside it for her. Choosing to sit near Lord Perturabo, but not directly across from him, she spoke up after steeling herself. “Oh, Lord Perturabo?”

The Lord of the IVth legion glanced up from his data-slate, a disinterested look on his face.

“You’re the one who designed and built this palace, correct?”

“Hmph.” He uttered, his expression not changing. “You want my brother Rogal for that.” He looked back down to his data-slate, hoping the conversation to already be at an end.

“No, uh… I want to talk to  _ you _ .”

Perturabo’s eyebrows flew up in surprise as he turned off the data-slate and looked back at her.

“About what?”

“Well uh, this place is beautiful! In fact, probably the most wonderful building I have ever seen, and I’m not joking! I especially love the color contrasts. You incorporated the Grisaldi theory into the design, correct? I’ve always adored his theories on design and architecture.”

The tiniest evidence of a smile appeared on the Siege Masters face.

“You do, do you? You are correct, it is his theory combined with the ancient styles of Nash. That one was my idea, Rogal wanted more gold. But well, it would-”

“-clash with the natural green look of the vegetation outside.”

Perturabo’s smile got wider. “Exactly! That’s what I told him, he argued with me like always, but finally listened. I had to throw theories and theoreticals at him, I must have quoted over a hundred professional quotes at him until he listened to me.”

“Don’t get me started on the furniture and general design of things! I am seeing Terran influence overall, but the feeling of comfort.”

“That is what my brother and I designed it for! A wood of the local yet reminiscing Terran variety wherever it is needed, a deeper colour but not dark, evokes much calmer emotions.” Quickly answered Perturabo, a large grin beginning to form on his face even as Rhea kept complimenting more and more, Perturabo stepping in on occasion and commenting on something or explaining something she didn’t understand much to Rhea’s enjoyment. It was almost as if she was back at the college discussing theories and demonstrations with her peers and professors.

Then she felt a gentle tap on her shoulders.

She turned to see a massive man with long blonde curling locks of hair, he wore no armour but his outfit colours of gold and red with tinges of black and white spoke volumes to his great taste.

“This seat taken?” He pointed toward the massive Primarch sized throne next to her with a kind smile on his stunning face.

“Oh uh-” Rhea stammered out. “Not at all.”

“Thank you.” He replied even as he slid out the throne and sat down on it. Extending the massive wings on his back before putting them out of the way by folding them so they were behind the throne.

“Your-your-” She stammered out.

“I like this one brother!” Called out Perturabo from across the table. “She actually understands my choices in this palace! A damned miracle if I ever saw one.”

“Ah, of course.” Replied Sanguinius, even as he turned to her with that brilliant smile of his. “So sorry, I’m Sanguinius…” He spoke in such a way that obviously signaled for her to give her own name.

“Oh! I uh, I’m Rhea! Fulgrim’s wife!” She winced at those last words.

That gorgeous smile of his only got wider.

“My my! I finally met an elusive sister-in-law.” He said with a chuckle.

“A brilliant one at that.” Once more added on Perturabo. “One that understands true art, the deeper meanings and the theories, such a rarity so far away from Olympia.”

“Of course I do! Art has been a passion of mine since I was a child! Painting, sculpting, drawing, designing, all of it has always been so fascinating to me! Especially if you can evoke emotion from the people who witness your creations.” She sighed, thinking back to the reception of her own creations. “I studied at the art college of Accueil, one of Chemos’ moons. I was set to become a Remembrancer and go off to the front lines to record history, had a good chance of it becoming a reality as well, seeming as the Third Legion Remembrancer core is stationed on Chemos and my family had a few strings they could pull… But well, life has a funny way of taking down paths you’d least expect.”

“A wonderful choice of words.” Kindly spoke Sanguinius even as Perturabo gave a healthy chuckle.

“She's got a way with this one, no wonder Fulgrim, that dancing ponce, chose her.”

Sanguinius gave his brother a slight disapproving look.

“What? I’m right.”

“Brother…”

“No, Lord Perturabo is right! He  **is** a dancing ponce! I’m sorry if that’s rude, but it’s completely true. And he’s also kind of boring at times. And dare I say, such a diva as well. Almost as if he has a holorecorder on him at all times and was acting in one of those cheaply made holoshows from Colchis.”

“Ha! See.” Said Perturabo, leaning back in his throne with a smug grin.

“I see.” Slowly spoke Sanguinius even as he turned his full attention to her and looked her up and down, a slight frown appearing on his face.

“Yes? What is it?”

“It's just… the colours of your dress, I mean no offence of course, but they don’t match you or your personality. Black and Purple does not compliment you.”

“Finally. Someone else sees it.” She spoke, practically blown away by  _ someone actually getting it right _ for the first time ever.

Sanguinius clicked his tongue even as he looked her over again. “It is quite obvious. Colour Theory aside, you aren’t comfortable in any way, the dress is too loose, the jewelry too… in the way, your shoes obviously aren’t your style judging by the fact that you aren’t wearing any and the chafing on your heels. You poor thing.”

Rhea simply stared in disbelief, then nodded in acceptance. “No no. I agree. Honestly, these aren’t even my own clothes. They’re… From someone else. Can’t stand them, to be honest. I prefer pants.”

“Hmm.” Hummed Sanguinius, even as he waved a serf over, spoke something into his ear and dismissed him immediately.

“May I measure you more precisely?”

“How would you accomplish this, exactly?”

“Simply turn towards me.”

She awkwardly turned the massive throne towards the angel even as he did the same before reaching out with one of his massive hands and gently tracing her chin and waist.

“Of course… they got the proportions wrong completely.”

“Agreed on that part.” Called out Perturabo from across the table, now having gone back to his data-slate with a smile still on his face.

“Let me see here.” He traced over, what felt to Rhea like, every single tiny detail with his eyes, his hands gently tracing her wrist and elbows, moving some hair gently away from her sides in order to better see her shoulders.

“Yes… I think I have it.” As if on cue, a serf returned holding a data-slate and quickly gave it to Sanguinius. A second later, Sanguinius appeared to be drawing something with a stylus.

In a matter of a few seconds he was done, and turned the massive data-slate over, showing her the image. A silk top knotted in the middle, three fourths long sleeves, fabric that flowed past the waist and resting along her hips, a pair of straight legged pants that led down to her ankles. She noticed that the figure he drew had short hair compared to the long braid that rested over her shoulder.

Rhea looked and felt a smile start to bloom on face. “Yes! That looks like something I would feel so comfortable in! Funny, I never thought of cutting my hair shorter… It looks so much more manageable.” She trailed off, picking on one of her long strands and visualizing just hacking it down to a much more reasonable length.

Maybe she could find a knife and just do it herself…

Sanguinius beamed, happy to know she loved the design. “Not for formal occasions, of course. But I could draw up some more designs for different occasions if you’d like? I could send them to the serfs and you could have something to wear by tomorrow morning?” He offered, already seeing the confirmation in her eyes before she even said so.

“Yes! Thank you so much, what would I owe you?”

“Nothing. You are family now and this is such a pleasure to do, so you do not need to repay my work.” He said, lightly bowing his head.

Since when? When was that the case? Didn’t all families have a give and take rule? One member of a family never did anything unless they got some kind of recompense for it.

“A beautiful design…” Echoed voice, and Rhea turned to look behind her, seeing a bald, tall, man standing there.

“Alpharius.” Sanguinius greeted.

“Oh! Lord Alpharius.” Quickly said Rhea. “A pleasure, I'm-”

“- for a beautiful woman.” Came a voice from her right and she spun, to see the identical man. “Fulgrim’s wife.”

“We know.” Spoke the other again as she spun back.

“I uh-UH!”

“Brothers!” Chided Sanguinius.

“Brothers?” She asked, confused.

“I am Alpharius.” Spoke the one behind her.

“And I am Omegon.” Spoke the other as she turned again.

“Oh… there is, two of you? Per one legion? How can that be, I thought the Emperor only made one per legion.”

“So did I.” Came a chilling voice, as she looked up she saw a man with black tousled hair, surrounding a pale face, wearing dark simple robes, striding towards her. He was massive, like the rest of his brothers.

“The-the Night Haunter…”

“Fulgrims wife then.” He spoke in a slow drawl as he took a seat at the table, luckily a fair distance away from her.

“She does appear to be that.” Came another voice from behind her and she turned, finding that the twins had somehow silently taken their seats by each other, and there stood another pale faced man, albeit with much kinder eyes and more orderly hair.

“Corvus Corax my lady.” He introduced himself in a surprisingly kind voice, lightly bowing his head to her.

“Oh! A pleasure Lord Corax!”

“Just call me Corvus, we are all family after all.”

A groan came from Konrad.

“It’s true brother!” Called out Corvus even as he walked to his brother's side and took a seat, continuing to more silently argue with his brother.

“Sister-in-law!” Came a very jolly voice as a massive giant, clothed in massive green coloured robes, with completely black skin, and glowing red eyes walked through the central grand door.

She could only look on in shock as he walked up to her before picking her up as if she weighed nothing at all and gave her the warmest hug she ever had in her entire life. Literally, the warmest, he was radiating heat like lava. “H-hello… It’s… nice to… meet you…” She was able to get out, the hug making it hard to breathe and talk.

“Apologies, sister!” Vulkan quickly apologized, sitting her back down. “I just enjoy the hugging very much! I did not hurt you, did I?”

“No- no. You didn’t I’m fine. Just not used to so much physical affection.” Rhea took a few deep breaths, getting back to a comfortable place on her chair before taking a swig from a glass of water with ice that was placed there by also completely dark skin coloured serfs with red eyes and wearing green robes. Kind of creepy, but convenient.

A frown appeared on the jolly giant’s face. “That is the saddest thing I have heard since landing upon this planet.”

“Apologies. I didn't mean to make you feel that way. I’m just not used to… hugging and that much physical contact.” She tried to wave it off, but this only made Vulkan feel worse for her.

“It is best you become used to it sister.” Came a stern voice from her side, she turned to see the Lord of Macragge watching them with one eye even though his focus was still completely on the data-slate that he was holding. “He does it anytime he is happy about anything, it honestly isn’t so bad when you get used to it.”

Konrad, meanwhile, was now sporting a wide grin. He knew what was going to happen. Just waiting for Fulgrim to make his appearance.

More brothers made their appearance, some passing through and only giving a quick hello, too busy with their own data-slates to give much thought to their guest. But it was Fulgrim who stayed at the far door, watching Rhea as he held Rosalina. For the first time since he married Rhea, he hadn’t really seen her smile as much as she did while surrounded with his brothers.

She was getting on quite well with Sanguinius and surprisingly, Perturabo. Vulkan, Corvus, the twins, sure she looked like a deer in headlights when they made their appearance known to her, however, she quickly felt at home with them as well. Her smile was radiant, it made his hearts beat a bit faster when he looked at her.

Ferrus looked to his brother, wondering why he wasn’t entering the dining room and instead just watching his wife from the doorway. It was odd to see Fulgrim hesitating with anything.

Konrad noticed Fulgrim, right on cue. “Let the games begin…” He spoke to himself, knowing that lunch was going to be a grand time. Lorgar, who was following Fulgrim and Ferrus as they came in, felt a stirring in his mind’s eye. Knowing that if Konrad was excited about this… then surely it was going to be a really bad time…

When Rhea turned to answer a question from the twins, she caught Fulgrim’s gaze in the doorway, staring straight at her. His appearance ceased any fun she was having and all she could think about in that moment wasn’t how happy she was around her new family, or her talk with the Emperor… It was how livid she was when she finally fully understood how he was using her.

And she wanted him to hurt for that.

Lunch was going to be painful for everyone...

Rhea sat next to Sanguinius and Vulkan, across from her were two open spots for Fulgrim and Ferrus in between Perturabo with Rogal on one side of him and an empty seat on the other. At the head of the table had been the Emperor with Horus and Roboute at both of his sides with a spot next to him open for Malcador, Leman, who came in just in time to see the visible change from light hearted air to thick tension, decided to sit near his Father. On the other end of the table, were Konrad and Corvus, with the twins between Vulkan and Corvus.

Magnus, Lorgar and Jaghatai took to the end of the table near Konrad, mostly to make sure their brother didn’t do anything to upset their guests and would incidentally be next to Fulgrim and Ferrus. The last two to come in had been Mortarion and the Flamer Custodes, who looked at the packed table and did a tiny clap of happiness. While Mortarion took his place near the Emperor between Leman and Sanguinius, the Custodes was waved over by Rogal, who quickly made himself comfortable next to the Praetorian, near his Father and getting to sit around some of his favourites.

The table had three empty places, for Malcador who would arrive last and spots open for Lion and Angron, who were still in their artificially induced comas. Usually, Fulgrim was happy to be center stage in the grand dining table, but now? It felt as if the spotlight was shining directly on him and his wife with no escape from what he knew was going to be an agonizing teeth pulling escapade.

At least he was going to have his daughter next to him during this hard time-

He blinked and looked down at his empty arms, seeing Ferrus had put Rosalina down from his arms and allowed the little girl to pad around the dining room. He quickly looked to Ferrus, who shrugged at him.

“You were just standing there and she wanted to get down. It thought it was my duty as godfather to make sure she is fine?” He answered Fulgrim, unaware that he just let his brother’s lifeline get out of his own arms.

Fulgrim panicked, going to scoop his daughter back up, but was surprised to see she was already quickly exploring the new room. The tiny girl padded over to the table, and to everyone's surprise, it was not to her mother's side like Fulgrim thought she would.

She passed literally the whole table and all of the most well known, most fascinating people in the galaxy as if they were not interesting enough for her attention. She finally stopped when she reached the end of the table for her prize.

One of her chubby little arms reached out and pointed directly at the man sitting on the massive throne at the end of the table. “Gol’ Papa!”

The nearby Primarchs stared down at their tiny niece as she moved even closer to a surprised Emperor. She reached his legs, not even reaching half-way up his shins and extended both of her arms upwards.

“Feed!” She demanded with a tiny little pout.

The Emperor stared back at her with a growing smile, nearly melting at the sight of his granddaughter wanting his attention and to be in his presence. “Ah, hello, Rosie. How can I help you?”

“Feed!” She demanded once more, jumping slightly for emphasis.

“Alright, alright. No need to be fussy.” The Emperor slowly reached down, and with one massive hand, gently lifted her and sat her down on his throne's massive armrest. It was more than big enough to act as a seat for Rosalina, who quickly sat down and looked down the table at her wide array of uncles, all of whom were staring in shock as a large full of pure happiness grin was slowly appearing on their fathers face.

“Yes. This is true happiness.” The Emperor said even as the grin only grew, Rosalina cooed at the sound of her Grandfather’s deep voice.

Fulgrim very reluctantly, along with Ferrus, begin to walk to his chair at the table, arriving mostly unnoticed to everyone being distracted by the cuteness of his daughter. She was currently playing around with the Emperor's long black hair, twirling it around her tiny fingers and getting increasingly frustrated that no matter how hard she tried, the hair always straightened out immediately.

“No sense!” She complained as she kept trying in futility.

“Ah biomancy.” Spoke Magnus to no one in particular. “Using it to get fabulous-”

Under Rosalina’s tender mercies, the jet black hair of the Emperor finally curled, much to the toddlers delight even as Magnus sputtered and muttered something about “Edict of Nikea my ass…”

But all of it was ignored by two particular people. Fulgrim was too busy staring down his wife, who was in turn staring him down. Ferrus, next to Fulgrim, looked between the two of them, simply wondering when it was going to get ugly and if it was possible to stock up on amasec already.

All around them, the voices of their family were tuned out as the Primarchs finally got into conversation with each other and the Emperor busied himself with preventing Rosalina from reaching for his golden laurel.

They didn’t bother to stop their chatter as the sound of a wood tapping against the marble floor was heard, and Malcador finally joined them at the table, giving a questionable gaze towards the Emperor, who was still busy entertaining his granddaughter.

Everyone was chattering, except for the two. Sanguinius and Vulkan made an attempt to get Rhea to speak to them again, but had no luck. She was dead set on staring down her husband. They both had a feeling that just Fulgrim’s presence was enough to make this woman go from vibrant and sociable to cold and silent.

Sanguinius looked up from the two and saw the long line of servants, each carrying a plate of soup while others carried the breads and soup toppings that went along.

“Oh look! The soup!” Sanguinius pointed out in a slightly raised voice in an attempt to get the two spouses to stop staring pure death at each other. “Certainly good. Great. Please. Will you two stop staring?”

The Servants placed the soup plates and saucers onto the underplates before each of the diners, making sure to include a tiny little plate and spoon for Rosalina, which compared to the Emperor was more like a tiny teacup and toothpick, and an adequately sized serving for Rhea.

The Primarchs immediately tucked in, some already knowing that they needed to hurry if they wanted to eat any of the delicious soup made from a generous choice of vegetables which were most likely fresh from the stocks of the many ships in orbit and stewed with older, choice breed Grox. Smelling absolutely wonderful. The only question was how long it would last...

Rhea, without losing her staring contest with her husband, reached out and took hold of her spoon, beginning to eat small amounts, stirring the soup far more than actually eating any of it.

Fulgrim attempted much the same, but surprisingly couldn’t find his spoon. Refusing to look down and notice that a certain pair of brothers had moved it out of his range. Ferrus however, took pity and reached over, returning the spoon.

However… from there on it only seemed to get worse.

Fulgrim and Rhea continued to stay silent, eating along with everyone else. The lunch chatter around them appeared to grow quieter as the two of them began to go from wondering what they were going to do, to full on dislike and even hatred between them. Rhea idly wondered if he even cared or knew why she was angry with him.

Fulgrim wondered if she was currently going to cause a scene and wondered why she couldn’t just bottle it up like usual and just shout at him during her nightly wine splurge.

Almost as if she could see it in his eyes, she knew he was looking down at her with his… stupid holier than thou looks. She idly scraped the bottom of her plate with a bit too much force with an audible screech of metal on porcelain, causing some guests to wince at the sound. That proceeded to make the atmosphere even heavier, and soon, chatter was at a near standstill, with most looking between the two, wondering if they were both going to cause a scene.

The Emperor for his part, was eating with one hand even as he was attempting to feed Rosalina with her tiny spoon from the teacup sized plate. She however, was avoiding it to the best of her ability and her Grandfather was being forced to continually attempt to convince her that the soup was in fact delicious. It was that very screech that gave him the in to feed her and, to his smug satisfaction, she did enjoy it. And soon, the little girl was digging into her soup, most of it getting on her cheeks and chin rather than her mouth.

A mental poke, and soon the Emperor realized how tense and quiet everyone was. He glanced at Malcador, who sighed and said that he’d ‘take care of it’ and from his data-slate, was able to get a small dinner orchestra together. In the short amount of time from then, and the silence that was beginning to pull until it would snap from the tension, no one said so much as a word to each other.

The family were roused gently from their chatter when music began to play. A small orchestra had entered the room and began to quietly play a relaxing song. Some thanked their Father and Malcador for the mercy of music. The only ones who weren’t affected were tiny Rosie and the Custodes, who was able to enjoy his soup through the mouth grill with the help of interconnecting straws. At this point, Leman was itching to know why a random, massive Custodes was sitting with them yet again.

Right as the small orchestra began to play, and the Emperor idly wondered why he remembered this song in particular even as he was doing his damndest to attempt and convince his granddaughter to try and eat the soup instead of wearing it, attempting to spoil her as much as he could. And in order to do so, he was acting as if he was taking a sip from Rosalina’s tiny spoon and enjoying it.

Rhea chose that exact moment to speak up, not even putting up the pretense of a smile as she sat straight in her seat and barely even moved from her position.

“So… how come you didn’t invite me.” She suddenly said, like a bright lance through space, ready to hit a far off target and obliterate the enemy.

This shocked the Emperor so much, that through the sudden massive intake of air through his mouth, he swallowed the toothpick sized spoon, causing him to choke even as a frown graced Fulgrims face.

Fulgrim paid no mind to his choking Father, instead narrowing his gaze at his wife. So, this was her first strike? So be it. “So quick to think that I’m excluding you. You always were the type to believe that the world is against you.” He idly spoke, like it was about the weather as he sipped from a fine wine glass. “I’m sure you can gather that you would come along as well. A daughter can’t go somewhere without her mother, afterall.”

The Emperor continued choking, much to Rosalina's squealing delight as she laughed at what she thought was her grandfather's antics even as Malcador sighed deeply before grabbing his staff and summoning a massive force to slap the Emperor's back which caused the spoon to fly out like a bolt shell and impact the grand door on the other end of the dining room, embedding itself in the fine wood.

At this, the Flamerstodes held up a sign with VII / X written on it. Perturabo blinked, looking and measuring the trajectory that thing must have taken to fly that hard and fast to embed into the door. Meanwhile Konrad, at the end of the table, was already trying hard to hold back laughter.

“Oh, pardon me. But when I received the invitation, my name was unsurprisingly absent. But well, as I recall, you always did seem to love excluding me from your functions and visits. Why, you even hired a battalion of nannies for Rosie. Not much confidence in my abilities.” Rhea said in such a sweetly patronizing manner, that it sounded more like she was trying to speak to a small child rather than her own husband.

The Emperor cleared his throat and washed down any irritation with a small glass of water even as his granddaughter continued giggling.

“Oh I see, so you see the position of my wife as some common woman who can be replaced on a whim and as a position for useless and lazy ladies?” Bit back Fulgrim, a slight hint of anger in his voice. “And perhaps have you thought that maybe your presence at those functions you claim I exclude you from are for good reason? I can’t have you coming in suffering from your latest hangover after yet another wine binge the night before, as you regularly do?”

“Brother.” Asked Roboute, looking towards Leman.

“Aye brother?” Leman looked away from the Custodes, who waved at him.

“Do you so happen to have any more of that ale? The fermented stuff.”

“Aye… plenty, not even my sons want to drink that stuff.”

Roboute glanced to the middle of the table, where it felt as if current icy wind was blowing in from. “Want to have a serf fetch some?”

“Good bloody idea.” Quickly answered Leman and called over a serf.

“And why is that?” Rhea answered in a defensive tone. “Perhaps it is because my husband is so absent that I have no one else for company but the sycophants he himself has planted. Or perhaps it is because when he is present, a bottle of wine can hold a conversation better than he can.” Her hand slowly twirling her spoon in her soup, the image of an assassin twisting a knife in the gullet of their prey springing up in Fulgrim’s mind. “Oh and come to think of it… probably gives me more pleasure before and in bed then my  _ husband  _ ever did.”

“I don’t mind getting in on some of that…” Slowly admitted Mortarion, overhearing Leman and Roboute.

“I as well.” Sanguinius quickly interjected, darting his gaze back and forth from those two.

Fulgrim scoffed, “It always comes down to that, doesn’t it? Well, maybe the reason why I can’t stand being around you for very long or even entertain a conversation with you is because you twist and turn everything I do into something nefarious! Penelope didn’t act like this during our marriage, I’ll have you know.” The serpent-like poisonous tone now very much evident in Fulgrims voice.

“Oh ho, the hypocrite has spoken! Turning  _ your  _ words into something nefarious? I’ll have you know that not only are you doing it right now to me, you are throwing my dead sister in my face as if I am supposed to be her double and act like some perfect clone, bend over and take it!” Rhea dropped the smile, letting the serfs take her plate away, same as everyone else’s.

The Emperor pulled a serf aside, telling him that it was of utmost importance for this lunch to be reduced from the five planned courses and just get it over with on the second. The servant nodded vigorously and snapped his fingers, making all of the carts outside of the doors with the Hors d'Oeuvres to turn around and head back to the kitchens.

A few Primarchs gave silent thanks to their Father, hoping they could survive the second course and run as fast as possible from this brewing catastrophe.

The servants loaded the carts once more with all of the used dishware. Making way for the column of servants carrying an absolute feast load of food.

“I’m merely defending myself from your unjust anger, you deluded little psychopath. Talking with you is the same as avoiding eggshells on the proverbial carpet, it’s tedious, it’s uncomfortable and frankly I can think of numerous events and activities I would rather be doing than entertaining your delusions.” Fulgrim’s tone went icy, a slight growl in his tone as he addressed her.

“Oh, reverse the roles and we finally can agree on something!” She immediately bit back “But let me get this completely straight, what you are saying is that performing your  _ marital duty _ and having me bear children is not important to you?”

Leman choked on his ale, letting out a bark of laughter, makingthe ale to go down his airway instead of his throat. Causing him to have a massive coughing fit. Nearby, Leman, Horus and Mortarion beat Leman’s back, until he was no longer in the middle of the fit.

“Wha- Right there! Right there, you are throwing words into my mouth! This is the issue I have with you, you throw words into people’s mouths, you believe the entire world is out to get you! You are completely deluded, and I fear that one day you might be making Rosie into a mini you! Imagine you passing on your horrible habits onto our daughter!”

“Oh shit, wrong card.” Muttered Jaghatai as he waved away a servant attempting to place food on his plate, knowing already that he wouldn’t get to eat anyway. Magnus winced at this, knowing this was going to only get worse.

“Oh, don’t you  _ dare _ bring her into this! She is the best thing to come out of this disaster of what we can barely call a marriage! And almost that didn’t even happen, considering how much a two pump chump you were those  _ five damned times _ we even did it, because it is exactly about that! My own husband, not even having the decency to bed me properly on my own damned wedding night!” Rhea completely ignored her food, her own temper flaring to a new height with every comment made from her husband. She would have seen it was a ploy to make her look like the unhinged one, but at this point, she didn’t care!

“Oooo.” The Khan commented as he looked over to Magnus who had an equal look of respect and amazement on his face.

Lorgar was covering his face with a napkin, thoroughly embarrassed for everyone in this table. “Can I be excused…?”

“No, I don’t think anyone can escape from this…” Corvus shuddered, as Konrad continued to laugh at the wreck of a lunch .

“Well it’s not my fault you’re too much of a cold, frigid bitch to appreciate it. I made one mistake, one! You still hold onto it now after how many years is it now? Not only do you fill people’s mouths with your own words, you are beyond petty and vengeful! You can’t let go of a mistake if your life depended on it!” Fulgrim shot back, idly sipping from his goblet, not breaking eye contact with her. She was trying to get a rise out of him, and he was going to be the calm, dignified one if she wasn’t.

Roboute reached over for the pitcher of Macraggian red and quickly poured himself a goblet. “Even I know that that is the last thing she needs to hear…”

“Oh, I do apologize for me defending myself for my own husband calling out my  _ sister's name  _ at the height of his pleasure all the while having no trouble taking mistresses and having an affair behind my back?”

Ferrus, who was in the middle of chugging some amasec, immediately forgot all of his manners and spit it out. “What-” He coughed. “What the fuck!?”

That’s it! He was not going to let her slander him like this! She could make all the baseless assumptions she wanted, but to dare say he would do such a thing!? “I beg your pardon!? I have done nothing of the sort! Surely you must be drunk to even imagine such a preposterous situation! Or perhaps you love slinging mud at me in front of my family? How low can you possibly sink yourself before you realize how much you are embarrassing yourself?” If his tone could be colder, he’d be pure ice.

“Is that your defense for everything that I do? That I’m drunk? That I’m delusional? That I’m crazy!? No matter what I say, what I do, it’s always one of the three, isn’t it? You never stop to think about why I feel this way, or even give real reasons on what I say is right or wrong! It’s always, ‘Rhea is crazy, ignore her’ and ‘Penelope would never act in such a debased manner’!” ...It didn’t matter that she desperately wanted to drown her sorrows in wine. No, she didn’t want him to win like this again!

Guilliman looked at his half emptied goblet and put it back down on the table. It wouldn’t help now. No amount of drink would.

The twins meanwhile, were simply looking back and forth between the fighting couple. A flat look on their identical faces.

“Well, I need to have someone tell you to your face that you're a delusional, depressed drunk who prefers the company of iho-sticks and cheap booze over your own husband. I can only imagine how inattentive of a mother you are when I’m not there. No wonder I had to hire those ladies in waiting.” Fulgrim sat forward, daring her to continue on with this pointless fight of theirs.

Magnus’ eyes went wide. “Too far…” He whispered while looking at Jaghatai who only nodded in agreement.

“Oho, so now we are bringing up the iho-sticks are we? Do I need to remind you that I quit as soon as I found out I was carrying  _ our _ daughter!? And how could I not prefer the company of a bottle over my own husband? The bottle at least doesn’t berate me or mistake me for my sister! But it doesn’t matter!” Picking up the glass chalice beside her, she couldn’t control her temper any more and threw it with as much force as she could, the thing crashing on the wall behind Fulgrim, thankfully missing any of the windows. The Orchestra stopped playing, looking at the Emperor who gave a quick nod. The orchestra quickly packed up their equipment and filed out of the room even as the Emperor gave them a comforting smile, letting them know that it wasn’t their fault.

A flinch went through the entire table at this. This was all getting way out of hand. Leman sputtered while in the midst of another drink, quickly spitting the ale back in the mug instead of risking choking again.

The Emperor meanwhile quickly used two of his fingers on one hand to act as makeshift earplugs for little Rosalina, who did not seem to mind the slightest. She merely looked up at her grandfather and garbled out a “Dis Normal.” before going back to playing with the pulled Grox meat on her tiny plate with her tiny fork, not minding that her mother was throwing glassware.

The Emperor looked down at his granddaughter with a horrified expression, unable to count the reasons on why this was far from normal. Even as Roboute whispered to himself, “This is not normal, this is far from normal.”

“Throwing glassware now? Way to be the violent unhinged lady you are I suppose. If I had known you were going to act in such a barbaric manner perhaps it would have been best that I had actually not invited you-”

“You did! You didn’t invite me! You kept me away, you ignored me and now I realize you are replacing my dead sister with me! Is it merely coincidence that we look so alike? We come from the same family? Is it merely another coincidence that I’m told to wear and dress like my sister, the very same woman you just won’t get over!”

Jaghatai winced, remembering his fourth wife… a firecracker that one was.

“Well, I can’t help that I vastly prefer Penelope over you. She was everything you never have and never will be. She was grace incarnate, she was kind, beautiful, smart, she could handle a court better than you ever could! She was my perfect match, she was my first love, my only love and you will never come close to what she was!” None of this would be happening if Penelope was still around. She wouldn’t have been causing such a scene, in fact- “Penelope wouldn’t have been acting like this. She had much more class than to let herself be seen as some unhinged psychopath throwing priceless wares because she isn’t getting her way.”

“Can you be any more condescending!? I am not having some temper tantrum, I am angry and fed up with this farce of a marriage! You didn’t even try to deny trying to replace my sister with me! Admit it! This marriage was a mistake, this whole relationship was a mistake! I cannot believe that I once actually loved you, you insensitive, controlling, manipulative, assholeish, snobbish, egotistical, prick! If I had my way, I’d divorce you the first chance I got!” She slammed her hands on the table, causing some goblets to tip and spill their contents on the beautiful white and gold embroidered tablecloth.

Everyone of the more decent Primarchs blushed even as Konrad stopped laughing and gave a disgusted look towards Fulgrim, things were going from sweet to sour really fast.

Why is it that everytime they got into a fight, this came back up!? “You will never forget that will you? Well, let me get you into a little secret, dear wife.” He paused, done with all of this. He wanted her to hurt, no more playing around. She was going to just shut up. “When Penelope and I sat together and talked of her family, and of you, we laughed at your ineptitude. How sorry, how terrible and how useless you were to your entire family. Always the black sheep, never being good enough for your parents, your family, your sisters, no one. Not even me. You were and always will be, the failure of your family who never was good enough for her work, her friends, her family, even your own daughter. You are nothing.”

The Khan and Magnus both stopped whispering to each other, staring at Fulgrim instead in complete shock. It wasn’t just them, it was Roboute, Horus, Sanguinius, Mortarion, even Leman and Rogal. Perturabo could have killed with the look he was giving Fulgrim. Ferrus was far beyond the realms of comfort, knowing his brother could be vindictive but… Konrad was silent. He was angry, oh so angry. Lorgar was just wondering when he could escape this hell. But out of everyone, only two were the most disappointed; The Emperor and one certain brother.

“Yet your dumb ass still chose me! Think!  _ Think _ who exactly is at fault for that!? You fucking-! You-you- _ you _ - _ you- _ ”

Tears began to run down her face even as her jaw worked but no words came out.

She quickly looked around, her hair going messy and her makeup becoming runny as the tears came faster and harder.

A gasp of air and hiccup as one of her hands flew to her mouth.

She quickly stood, jumped out of the chair and ran out of the room, the servants at one of the grand doors not hesitating to open and close the doors behind her.

Silence reigned the room.

“Ah, just like the old days… awkward, gone to hell, and an atrocity upon common family values.” Finally said Malcador in a raspy voice breaking the silence, all the while glaring at Fulgrim.

“Seems to be a recurring theme with this family…” Corvus muttered, leaning back in his throne, hoping he could get enough wine to make him forget this travesty of a lunch.

“I see nothing wrong with this!” Spoke up Fulgrim. “I merely defended myself and the honour of my daughter.” He explained with a huff even as he sat back on his throne, arms crossed on his chest.

Sputtering from his side, it was surprisingly Perturabo who spoke up. “Defending!? That was more of a long session of a public flogging than defending yourself. I may be considered a callous asshole by almost everyone and everything, but I wouldn’t- okay I would have earlier before all of this, but that was low.”

“Brother.” Came the stern tone of Roboute down the table, who wasn’t even looking at Fulgrim, “You deliberately threw all of her insecurities and darkest thoughts into her face not to defend yourself, but because you knew it was going to hurt her the absolute most. Don’t try and deny it.”

Jaghatai up the table shook his head, knowing that this latest fuck up was going to be sticking around in the air for a long time. Even his catastrophic love life wasn’t as bad as Fulgrim’s marriage.

Fulgrim looked around himself, his brothers were in varying degrees of full on contempt over the situation or uncomfort in having to sit through that. “But- But it wasn’t my fault.”

Everything got quiet again, Leman noisily drinking from his tankard being the only noise in the dining hall. Eventually the Executioner spoke with a simple, “That was fooked up.”

The scooting of a throne was beside him, seeing Ferrus standing up and starting to make his way out of the dining room.

“F-Ferrus-”

“I would like some space away from you brother. I require time to think. Alone.” Ferrus said in a mechanical drawl, unable to even look at or be near his brother during his latest… tantrum wasn’t a strong enough word for this. It was more akin to a public humiliation than whatever his brother was trying to make it out to be.

“A rigged trial.” Ground out Konrad. “Disgusting.” He spat as he got up and walked out of the room, not even allowing the servants to open the door for him as he slammed it open, almost knocking the massive door off of its hinges.

One particular Primarch looked between the entire family, shaking his head and letting out a disappointed sigh. He thought better of his brothers than this. Must he be the one to have to beat humanity back into a brother? He reached up, his ungloved hands grabbing at his auromite helmet and pulling it off to free his finally uncovered head. He sent a full on disappointed glare at Fulgrim, as he put his helmet on the table, ignoring the double takes many of his brothers were giving him at this moment.

Unused to speaking after so long, he cleared his throat, ready to break his vow of silence just to tell his older brother how much of a cunt he was. “I am disappointed in you, brother.” Spoke the XIth Primarch in his Custodes armor.

Everyone at the table openly stared at the XIth, his soft Kamikian features in full on disappointment at the IIIrd, as his frown rivaled even Vulkan’s in intensity and wrongness. “She deserves so much better than this. Than you.”

He then promptly replaced his helmet and walked out with his plate of lunch, a few brothers snapped out of their reverie, ancient blocked memories coming back at seeing his face. They quickly stood and started to chase after their brother, calling out his name as they chased after him.

“Izanagi, get back ‘ere yer damn pink lovin’ peaceful pansy!” Leman shouted out, hot on the trail of the XIth who was trying to get away from the growing convoy of angry/happy brothers.

“Brother!” Came a surprisingly passionate cry from Roboute. “I thought you were dead! Come back here! We need to finish our talk about the library of Ptolemy!”

“Come back here! You damned son of a bitch!” Roared Perturabo as he stomped after his brother, Rogal hot on his heels. “You have so much to explain you asshole!”

“I knew it was him for many decades-” Rogal started, and was shoved by Perturabo and thrown back into the dining room. Rogal quickly got up and walked off after his brothers with a brisk pace, a gentle smile on his face.

That left only the Emperor, Malcador, Sanguinius, Corvus and Fulgrim in the room along with little Rosie who had just about finished her meal.

Corvus sighed, finished his glass of fine red wine and stood.

“I am going to see where Rhea went, poor thing really didn’t deserve that.” He said and walked off, Sanguinius standing wordlesely and following him out as well, going to presumably do the same thing.

The Emperor looked down at the absolutely trashed table.

“That went better than expected.”

“...I messed up.” Fulgrim admitted, covering his face with his hands, all of the anger washing away once he was nearly alone.

“Horrifically.” Malcador intoned, getting up and hobbling away. “Revelation, I think this is a good time to just cut off the viewing sessions until tomorrow after dinner. Everyone clearly needs extra break time.”

“I agree, Mal.” The Emperor sighed, picking up his granddaughter. “Hey Rosie, wanna go and see grandpa’s study?”

Rosie smiled, a little gasp of happiness.

“I am coming with you.” Malcador explained, hobbling to his feet. “We have plans to discuss while this mess sorts itself out.”

Fulgrim straightened up, “Wait, hold on- I’d like to spend time with my daughter!”

The Emperor looked his son directly into his eyes. Cold, golden irises stared directly into what Fulgrim felt like was his soul. “You need to find your wife, apologize and go to therapy with her. And that is final. I will not hear another word. I shall watch Rosalina until you settle your affairs.”

“But… fathe-”

“That is an  _ order!”  _ The Emperor roared, psychically shielding Rosalina’s ears from the psychic backlash which caused Fulgrim to nearly collapse from terror.

“We have had enough of this on the Bucephalus. Prove to me that you are a better man than the one who fell.”

That... hurt. Fulgrim felt as if his father had just taken both of his hearts and squeezed them until they were nothing more than rotting muscle…

“Let’s go.” The Emperor spoke softly as he walked out of the room with a cooing Rosalina in his arms, Malcador slowly hobbling behind. Leaving Fulgrim alone in the dining hall, even as serfs entered to clear away the mess of a half eaten lunch.

  
  


...

  
  


Stupid, stupid, stupid… Like an echoing chant the words went through her mind, Rhea kept running farther and farther away from the dining hall, her mind going haywire as she made her way to the Raven’s Tower.

She couldn’t deny it any longer. He hates her. He must have always hated her. It wasn’t something she could deny any longer, he hated her more than anything else in the galaxy… And she deserved it.

Climbing the stairs from the lowest level to as high as she possibly could, Rhea couldn’t stop the tears as they kept falling down her face. He was right. He was always right. She couldn’t measure up to Penelope. She never would...

Just the thought of the two of them laughing at her, laughing at her ineptitude… It was swimming in her vision, the face of the man who she married and once loved laughing at her.

Of course he did! Of course they both did! Little, stupid Rhea was always the butt of the joke! Always! It doesn’t matter if she had feelings of her own, it didn’t matter if she got hurt, she was always a burden, always the unwanted one! The unlucky fourth daughter in a marriage without sons. The daughter who was never good enough for her parents and now wasn’t good enough for her husband.

If they hated her so much, why shouldn’t she just disappear? She wouldn’t burden them any longer, she wouldn’t burden Fulgrim any more. If she was gone, then him and Rosie would be so much more better off, Rosie wouldn’t have such a failure of a woman as her mother and Fulgrim could marry whatever slut he was currently fornicating with.

Yes. Everyone would be happier without her... Everyone would, the man she loved, loves, loved, he didn’t care! He never did, he just wanted her damn older sister!

She reached the top part of the tower, overlooking the palace and the gardens below. She was so high up, so far away from everyone that the chatter of the servants below wasn’t even a whisper. She shouldn’t have come here. He invited only their daughter for a reason. She was not needed.

She never was.

She made a fool of herself, in front of everyone! She was always unhinged, always seen as crazy. Everyone called her crazy, they always do! Drunkard, smoking pile of garbage! That’s how it always was! Always is! Everyone, they must have only been polite… Yes, they saw her as he saw her. They were only polite. No one in the family liked her, it was all in her head. The pretensions of family, the notions of  _ love _ and  _ caring  _ and-and-and-

She paced in the area, back and forth, circling the area over and over again as she tried to stop the mean voices in her head. Always telling her things, her mind her own worst enemy and friend.

Fulgrim was right. She was crazy.

She couldn’t just stand or walk, she needed- needs air. Needs air.

Walking over to one of the windows of the tower, standing on the ledge she breathed in the clear air around her, hands running through her hair and tugging at the long strands.

She’s crazy. Crazy, crazy, crazy. Delusional. He called her delusional. Yes, she was delusional. Delusional for thinking this marriage could work out in any damn way. Crazy unwanted girl. No one wanted her here.

She should get it over with, just jump! Yes, yes she should-

What?

...What was she doing?

No. No, she couldn’t. She could not jump. It was so far down, and- Rosie. Her daughter- she needed her mother. She wasn’t a bad mother, she wasn’t! She may drink and smoke- She may sometimes get too deep into the wine and forget things- but she didn’t do it in front of her girl! She didn’t! She was a good mother!

But… He always told her how much it… hurt her and him and everyone. He said that he excluded her because of her wine binges. Is she a good mother, if that was true, was she a bad mother and a bad wife as well?

She was such a failure. She broke at the first burden of duty right after marriage, she kept moving forward while everyone around her hated and looked down on her. They all knew she wasn’t good enough! She had never been good enough. 

She began to rock in place, unknowingly rocking forward off the ledge and back, to the tower. Shewas never was good at anything. Even her own hobbies, she wasn’t good enough...

She was not a good mother. She shouldn’t have yelled at her husband, his family, like that-

Just like with earlier! She thought of breaking a leg or jumping off the stairs before. What was so different here? It was just higher and it would get rid of the problem.

She- she didn’t deserve it- She did not deserve to be here- to be with everyone. He was right. He should have skipped her-

She should make it easier on everyone.

Easier on everyone- no one should have to put up with her.

Yes… just step forward. She shouldn’t exist.

Rocking forward a bit more forcefully, she leaned too far to catch herself. She had to have made the right decision. This would make it easier on everyone else...

Rosie didn’t deserve someone like her-

Rosie.

Rosie!

She let out a horrified scream, her thoughts cleared as she thought of her daughter, as her entire body fell off the tower. What was she thinking-!?

Time slowed to a crawl.

Her body spun and twisted, her hair flying into her face, destined to become her death shroud.

Her life, her mind, the very meaning of her existence came into her question.

But she dismissed all of those, she instead focused on one thing, and one thing only.

_ Rosie… _

What had she done? How could she do this to Rosie? She was not even two standard years old! She needed her! And just now when she had found such a wonderful grandfather and such great uncles…

She saw her own reflection in the colored glass window a floor down from when she had thrown herself. One of a screaming woman in desperation. One of complete regret.

She had so much left to do, she was still so young, her marriage could be repaired had only he not been so cruel… If she wouldn’t be so cruel…

If she could right then and there, she wouldn’t have jumped.

But it was too late…

She closed her eyes, taking one last deep breath and calmed herself as she prepared to say her final goodbye…

Then… there was a noise.

Her eyes slowly opened, her body just so happened to be twisted in a way that made her head look up toward the tower, the sun was perfectly in the middle of the sky.

She followed the Imperial Truth, like everyone else. But what she saw she couldn’t deny.

An Angel.

Massive, white feathered wings, a silhouette of a giant man.

_ This was the end… _

The wings upon the angel closed suddenly, and he dived directly toward her. Her eyes went wide as she realized that she wasn’t dead yet.

_ Sanguinius…  _ Her mind whispered to her even as he reached her, bare meters before she hit the ground, swooping her up and holding her neck so the sudden change of force did not snap it like a twig as he straightened out and flew back up toward the sun, firmly held in his embrace.

The wind soared as the Angel spread his wings once again, swinging them once or twice before he managed to bring them down on a well tended orchard.

Two strong hands grabbed her as she was set down on her feet, two piercing eyes stared into her own.

“Are you alright!? Throne be praised that Corvus’ sons were watching you.”

She stared up at him even as tears came to her eyes again, further ruining what was left of her makeup.

“I’m-” She broke down into sobs, burying her face in her hands. “I’m-I’m so so sorry-” She choked out. “I’m such a bother I-” Sanguinius looked at her in complete shock. “I-I... you shouldn’t have caught me- I-”

She was suddenly pressed against the Angels chest.

“Hush Sister. What you are saying, lunacy, all of it. Nothing is your fault. None of this is your fault.”

The roar of a jump-pack was heard and a slight thud as the plain-clothed form of Corvus landed nearby, the Jump-pack attached only by a reinforced harness.

“By Kiavahr, you got to her in time.” He spoke in his dour tone even as Rhea continued crying, soaking through Sanguinius' rich and expensive uniform. She sobbed, incoherently sputtering apologies.

The Angel for his part did not seem to mind, instead gently stroking his sister in laws head even as he cleaned out any strands of hair from her face. Sanguinius looked up at Corvus, his irises piercing red.

“Fulgrim will pay for this.” He bit out. And Corvus couldn’t help but nod along.

...

“...in conclusion, she appears to be physically fine besides a sprained toe, but nothing major.” The Apothecary of the Emperor’s Children finished his report, looking towards the two Primarchs of the IXth and the XIXth legions.

Sanguinius looked past the Apothecary, towards the woman currently sitting quietly on the examination table. She didn’t look at anyone the entire time, which unsettled them only slightly. But then again, after almost falling to your death and having a near mental breakdown, it was to be expected.

However, after what had occurred, it was imperative they tell Fulgrim about Rhea. On the other hand, both brothers had the idea to give their less than appreciated brother a piece of their mind for pushing the woman to such a state where killing herself was preferable to being married to him.

“Shall I send forth notice to my Primarch?” The apothecary asked, looking to both Primarchs.

“I doubt he will care in the slightest after that travesty of a lunch…” Corvus muttered to himself, with only Sanguinius being able to hear him.

“He’ll pay. But… We do have to tell him.” Sanguinius turned back to the Apothecary. “Yes. Tell him and we will deal with any of the repercussions.” Sanguinius answered, knowing that today was going to drag on even more.

…

While her two Brother-in-Laws talked and argued with the Apothecary, Rhea continued to sit on the apothecarium table, the first thought that connected to her mind...

She was cold.

The examination table was massive, Astartes sized, and aside from having various sluices for blood and who knows what other fluid, it had no comforts or other notable features. A sad trademark for all legions, even the IIIrd.

Not to mention that she had to remove her stockings, so not only was she cold, her feet were cold. There was a reason she preferred regular shoes compared to heels. She could wear socks, and those were comfortable.

Chemos, for being an industrial wasteland for the most part, was still relatively warm. Salutis’ temperature wasn’t much different, but the humidity was a whole other part. Then there had been the part of her never visiting another planet before… The moons were different.

She vaguely heard the Apothecary explaining that she would be fine after tending to her finely pedicured toe. She didn’t really feel the pain.

She heard as they mentioned notifying Fulgrim. Inside her tumultuous mind, the thoughts of her husband made her shudder at the thought of his words. The icy venom he had slung her way had been devastating, matching and surpassing her own. There would be no reason for him to want to be there or even care about her well being after what happened.

“How are you doing?” Asked her Angel of a Brother-in-law yet again, looking down at her with a small smile and eyes full of pity. Pity, she didn’t want pity damn it all!

“I’ll be fine.” She answered with a sigh, wanting to get out of the Apothecarium. The cold, white, sterile places like it had always unnerved her. As one who appreciated art and studied architecture whenever she could, it made her more annoyed at simply how misused and cold the space was. White walls could have been and done so much more…

...her mind was wandering again. Always empty headed, always up in the clouds. Her parents were right, she would mind wander so far she’d even forget where her own child was-

Rosie! What happened to Rosalina? Oh… Well… Her little girl was rather taken with her Grandfather, she remembered that much before she whirled on her husband… the talk with her newly met Father-In-law had endowed her with about the same amount of courage that the wine usually did, more so because of the backup of the people that were her extended family...

She swallowed the lump in her throat.

How could she do something like that? That fight had been particularly bad, there was no denying, however was it bad enough to warrant her killing herself? Especially after getting a kind, helping hand from Father...

It did not matter what she wanted or felt, it never did before, why would it change now? Her own family rejected her, why would her extended family be any different? So far above regular people, so far above her by societal standards, just like her husband. Why would they, even he, care-

The metal doors to the Apothecary were slammed open, revealing a very disheveled looking Fulgrim. His eyes darted about the room for a mere millisecond before they landed on her.

“Rhea!” He exclaimed, even as he took two massive strides to her side after pushing his brothers aside, stunning both Sanguinius and Corvus to such a degree that they simply stood frozen. The Phoenix knelt by his wife's side at the examination table, immediately looking her over, hands grasping at her own. “Rhea, darling, I came as soon as I heard! What happened, are you alright? Please, tell me you’re alright!”

The words stung, she felt them as a jest, an insult.

But then she looked into his eyes. The glimmer that was usually there when his cruelty was its peak was… absent. How!? Why!? What game was he playing!?

“I-” She quickly pulled her hands away from him, choosing to cross her arms and hug herself. “I-It doesn’t matter. I’m fine-”

Fulgrim scoffed, “Fine!? You tried to kill yourself! Obviously you are not fine! Will you just tell me why!?” He demanded of her, staying by her side, unsure on how to get her to say why and how.

“It doesn’t matter! I don’t matter, none of this matters. You don’t have to put up the act- why do you suddenly care now!?” She snapped at him, already willing him away in her mind. He would not understand. He would go back to normal once this passed. Just like all the other times… She was rationalizing, it was the only way to comprehend why he was here now and why he was acting like this.

“Why do you have to be so obstinate you stubborn woman! Of course I care! I’m your husband! After what happened with Penelope I can’t-!”

“For the love of- I almost died and you’re still bringing her up!? Please- Please leave I can’t-” Rhea whimpered, ducking her head down and nearly curling up away from him.

“Is it so damned hard to believe that I care about your stupid head!? I… look, I pushed too far at lunch, I am willing to admit that, and I am sorry. But you have to admit something, you are one stubborn as all hell woman and on occasion selfish-” Fulgrim held up a hand right as Rhea was about to object. “-you obviously have your issues. But, for the sake of this marriage and Rosie… I am willing to work it out.”

Rhea shook her head, still curled up. “You call me selfish, throw my dead sister in my face yet again, and then you try and say you want it to work?” She curled up tighter, “Please, just leave me alone. I don’t want to talk about it, I don’t want to do this right now-”

“Well, we have to talk about it at some point! You can’t just keep running away from these issues! And what if you decide to do something stupid like this again-”

“-I am not stupid!”

“The both of you are fucking stupid.” A new voice came up, causing the quarreling couple to see a large, almost Primarch sized man in what looked to be World Eater’s Apothecary armour. Sanguinius and Corvus snapped out of their shock, glad to see a neutral party had come in that was so quick to just say it.

Ragio, golden eyes nearly shining in contempt, looked between the two and scowled. “Is incompetence just a running theme with this family!? I just stood here and heard the both of you nearly go at it like two enemy generals ready to start a planetary war with each other. The both of you are being so fucking stupid, that I’m tempted to hit you both with a power maul to save us all from your collective idiocy.”

Fulgrim, Sanguinius and Corvus all noticed the very violent twitch on the Apothecary's face, one far  _ far _ too recognisable. That and the Apothecary was lacking the trademark butcher's nails, yet appeared to be every bit pissed off as any other World Eater all the while he appeared to be pilfering the IIIrd Legions stores of all of their Benzodiazepines. They only knew this because the crates that the other Apothecarys and serfs were carrying out had the IIIrd Eagle Spurs heradly burned onto them.

One of the Apothecarys tapped the angry helmless Apothecary on his shoulders.

“Lord Ragio, we are out of Morphine… again.” 

“Ugh, look, I don’t care, I am going to harass my uncles later for more. For now, just take any we can find, we are way too close for me to give a shit. How much of the mead have we got left?”

“About fifty barrels.”

“Considering we started with eight-hundred… need more…”

He then realized that they were all apparently staring at him.

“What?”

“Wait…” Fulgrim started. “Are you-”

“Corvus, Fulgrim, Sister-in-law.” Sanguinius interrupted. “Meet Ragio, son of Angron.”

“We missed you at lunch nephew.” Corvus teased.

Ragio looked back to Corvus, shrugging. “Seeing as how I still hate most of you, I didn’t think I could swallow anything near even one of you. Which seems to be fortunate, since I hear lunch was a disaster for everyone.” He let out a huff. “And what is it with marriages in this family? I may be Nucerian, but even there the principle of marriage is the same, to support and be there for each other no matter what, and here you two are damn near screaming each other's ears off because of what? A sprained toe?”

“I-” Fulgrim stuttered, surprised at the directness of the Primechild. “No- it was far more then-”

Ragio quickly held up a hand. “I really don’t care at the moment. Fact is that you two are married to each other and don’t give a fuck about it in the slightest. I’m not going to play therapist again like I did back on Nuceria, just talk it out you bunch of fucking dumbasses.”

Sanguinius sighed and stepped in along with Corvus to explain, even as Rhea and Fulgrim remained silent in the background.

They both stared at each other, both wanting to be anywhere but in each other's presence, both wanting to simply forget about the entire incident…

Slowly, Rhea slid off of the slab. even as the IIIrd Legion Apothecary came back in and attempted to wrestle away his precious supplies from the other World Eaters, who pushed him over and ran off quickly, the Emperor’s Children Apothecary cursing after them and that ‘their Primarch would hear about this.’

“I… can we not talk about this?” She asked sheepishly.

Fulgrim looked away, a regretful look on his face. “First you accuse me of not caring, now you don’t want to talk about it…” He sighed, one of his hands reaching up and rubbing at his eyes. “I don’t understand you… no matter how much I try… why was your sister so much easier…”

“Probably because she was the perfect one in the family! She was the classy one, the nice one, the pretty one, the one who got everything she wanted, she was the perfect daughter! It’s not my fault that I can never come close to how amazing she was.” Pushing herself off of the table, Rhea made her way to the door. “I need to get away from you.”

He let her leave, watching her escape from the Apothecarium, away from him. After hearing and realizing how scuffed the entire situation was at lunch, it all hit him straight in the face at that very moment.

It was then that he felt a tap on his shoulders, causing him to turn around just in time for a punch to impact him straight on the side of his head that felt like a tank had collided with his face, making his entire head spin away.

“Fucking idiot!” He heard a voice that sounded uniquely like Angron’s. “What kind of insanity does it take to drive your own wife to attempt suicide?”

Fulgrim, a man normally so proud and as flamboyant as a peacock, took the punch and insult with uncharacteristic stoicism, the revelation from just a moment ago sobering him.

He looked back towards his nephew and two brothers, standing in the now empty Apothecarium, abandoned and looted, much like his marriage.

One of his hands reached up to gently caress the already healing bruise.

He saw the stares from Sanguinius and Corvus, looks of pure disappointment, causing a shudder to go down his back. “Don’t forget,  _ brother _ , that this only happened because you lashed out at her.”

“I know.” He sighed. 

Corvus’ eyebrows flew into his hairline. “You know? What do you mean, you know? You quite clearly do not know if this has been going on for as long as we think it has.”

Fulgrim felt his chest swell with anger as his brother's words stung, even as Ferrus’ disappointed face came to mind. Then his father's words…

_ Prove you’re not him. _

An involuntary shudder went through his body yet again as he remembered his ‘future’ self’s image. A snake-like hybrid under the influence of his own greed, lust and inability to accept that sometimes, things were an impossibility.

“I… I am sorry.” He finally said, surprising everyone in the room. Admitting he was wrong, it physically… made him want to run for the hills. “I pushed too far, I am sorry.”

They all stood in silence for a moment, until Ragio let out a huff, turned around, and walked out, leaving the brothers alone.

“Why would you do something like this to the one you married?” Sanguinius asked, genuinely curious. “She would never harm you, Baal’s sake Fulgrim, she even gave you a daughter. Something your previous wife never did.”

“It was never about the offspring…” Fulgrim murmured, his mind filing with bitter-sweet nostalgia. “Penelope and I had… we had more than just our marriage…” 

He remembered her.

He remembered her so well…

Dancing in a purple-midnight gown, accented excellently with jewelry and colours in a style only someone such as her could pull off.

By the gods… Penelope lit up more than just the ballroom, she was like a light to a lost soul for him. Un-afraid to take his hand and let him shine all the same…

Her smile never failed to brighten his day, her beauty never stopped him from complementing it, her complaints never felt as such, and her touches felt like tender kisses compared to anything he had ever felt before…

It was never about the offspring… he knew she was barren even before he had slipped on the wedding band…

She was… she was not perfect… far from it… but… she complimented him…

And he could never ask for more…

He could… he could almost reach her… anytime he closed his eyes he saw her in those dresses of hers… always so pretty… always ending with her in black as she passed on...

“She was more than my wife. She was my friend, my confidant, she was the water I was seeking through the desert that is the galaxy.” Fulgrim sighed, long lost chances and memories fading as they always did, cursed to repeat endlessly by his eidetic memory. “I… I will always love her. But it is a love that will never come back. I accept she is gone.”

“And where does Rhea fit in this?” Corvus asked.

Fulgrim sighed. “I thought if I stayed with the same family, with the same looks, same bloodline… I could get something similar.” He slowly shook his head. “I… should have realized how wrong I was. Rhea was so much younger… Penelope was born to see Chemos rise from the ashes, to see the glory of humanity. Rhea… Rhea never cared…”

“None of that should be the basis of a marriage, brother.” Sanguinius reasoned with his brother. “She said earlier during lunch about divorce. Do you not think that perhaps it is for the best to let her go?”

“Let her go and be happy on her own.” The Raven agreed, the travesty of witnessing their fights only supported their suggestion.

The pit of cold that settled in Fulgrim’s stomach worsened, imaging letting Rhea go made him feel as if he was suffering from an acute case of frostbite. She was unhappy around him, she was set to have her own life before he swept into her life. He made her nearly kill herself. “If that is for the best… then I have to tell her everything then. If she wants to leave, I won’t stop her. But she deserves to know everything, no matter how small and insignificant it is. She deserves some explanations for everything…”

“That being?”

“She… has a tendency to jump to conclusions and tends to believe her own version of the truth-” He dodged the swing coming for him from the Raven. “Hold on- I’m right there! Penelope was the exact same way!” He scooted away from his brother. “It was a problem that didn’t go away until I talked with her and… we ended up… ah.”

“What do you mean by ‘ah’?” Sanguinius chose to be patient with his brother, despite the shit he was currently sitting in.

“Well… truth be told… there has been a lot of…  _ miscommunication  _ in my marriage with Rhea since quite literally day one…” Fulgrim threaded his fingers through his hair. “I messed up on our first day, the wedding was supposed to take place later, I wanted to give her time, a few months at least but… the Xalway Crusade was called to action due to the natives being particularly stubborn and-”

“I know, I was there, remember?” Corvus explained. “What has that got to do with it?”

“The elements of my expeditionary fleet were moved to support just as the marriage negotiations were beginning between me and Rhea’s house.” Fulgrim sighed again, realizing just how much like a bad comedy it all sounded. “Problem was that long engagements when one party is absent are not very tasteful on Chemos.” Fulgrim waved his hands about. “It reflects badly on both parties and… it was either lose the chance to marry her entirely or marry her then and there and…” 

“So you chose to rush into it.” Corvus finished his brother’s speech. “And look where it landed you.”

“Both parties did.” Fulgrim quickly corrected. “Not saying that I do not accept my share of the blame, far from it, but I well and truly thought that Rhea would not mind. No lady thus far had, but… generational gap and being so far back in line…”

“And here we are. The two of you have been fighting each other for as long as the marriage has lasted, haven’t you?” The Angel nodded along to his brother’s explanation. “I talked with her before you came in. She is quite educated and was able to keep up with Perturabo, even mentioning that she was in the college.”

“Yes, yes, studying art and architecture I know, Rhea’s house was quite keen in showing off her achievements and her supposed secret desire of joining the Remembrancer core. By the throne… I even tried bringing a Remembrancer at one point to her only to… well, she was mistaken for a mistress, let us leave it at that.”

“Ah. She did accuse you of adultery earlier. I assume this is what she meant?” Corvus scoffed, burying his face in his hands. “Your marriage is a complete wreck. What have you two been doing to each other?”

“You’re telling me? I only ever wanted to try to make it work! Then she would misconstrue everything I did to help our marriage and then… well, I get defensive when she throws all of my good intentions back in my face!” He didn’t want to remember the night he approached her and had her screaming her heart out at him and calling him a cheating, adulterous whore. That was a very bad night for both of them.

“So what, are you trying to say that your marriage is built off of mutual misunderstandings?” Corvus wasn’t sure how much more of this he could handle.

“It’s more than that, brother. They both have different ideas on what they want from this marriage, more than only the misunderstandings.” Sanguinius helped Fulgrim to his feet, dusting his brother off. “Brother. If you truly want this to work or to seek solace in the final days of your marriage, then I suggest you talk with her. No screaming, no anger clouding your judgement. Tell her what you told us, tell her everything you didn’t tell us. Get it all out and listen to her, then let her decide on where this all goes. Understand?”

**…**

“Ow-son of a bitch-ah!”

On second thought, maybe taking the shortcut through the unfinished, gravel road, gardens was not the best idea, considering the fact that she had no shoes on at the moment.

She got through quite a bit without so much as noticing the jagged rocks at first, or caring about the pain, spite and anger were powerful motivators after all… but even they wore off in time, and that was how she found herself sitting at a table under a massive tree, the birds singing, the sun shining, and a wonderful afternoon breeze going through the gardens even as idle chatter came and went from some corners.

She hated every damn second of it.

This… beautiful, wonder of a world and place, and she could not find even an ounce of her artistic sense to appreciate it anymore.

She didn’t even have the care to feel stupid for realizing she could have summoned a servant to bring her a new pair of shoes or something by literally just waving her arm at one that passed by.

She groaned, putting her face into the palms of her hands and letting out a deep sigh even as she leaned back into the chair that she was sitting on.

What was he thinking, coming in to see her and acting worried? Was he performing? Getting his brother's attention, to get back on their good side after earlier? They either must be furious with him or couldn't care less.

Fulgrim never showed that much care before, never so suddenly as well. It had to be a trick, it had to be fake, why else would he call her darling and drop to her level?

Think the devil’s name and he shall appear, is what she thought as she could already see the approaching form of her damned husband. He didn’t even consider listening to her plea for solitude, another rousing time of word shivs was on the menu for her it seemed.

Groaning and shutting her eyes, she leaned back even further in her chair and let out a deep sigh. “What.”

“Rhea, we need to talk.” He spoke as soon as he was close enough to his wife, hiding behind the wall of bushes away from the main path. “Actually talk, not what we’ve been doing this past decade or so.”

“Give me a year away from you on a different planet, then I shall consider bearing your presence for a few minutes.” She snapped at him, not even deigning to look at him.

“Rhea, please. It’s important we talk.” Fulgrim pulled a chair aside and sat with her, blocking her in the alcove of bushes she had found. “Can we please not fight for once and talk?”

She looked up at him, glaring at him. “About what? Are you going to insult me? Call me crazy? Delusional perhaps? A terrible mother? Oh, how about we compare me to my sister once more? You so  _ love _ making me miserable with that particular line.”

Already feeling the angry sting of fury welling inside of him, Fulgrim stamped down the need to shoot back with an equally disparaging comment. He promised his brothers he was going to try, he was not going to let his anger get the best of him. A few deep breaths, he continued. “No. That wouldn’t serve any purpose. I have not been fair to you and I believe I should apologize not only for today, but for everything else.”

Rhea stayed quiet, watching him from where she sat. Though her face did not betray her emotions, her thoughts were a different story. She was practically shaking inside of her mind, wondering what happened, why was he apologizing, what did he have planned, was it going to take a long time?

“I apologize. For everything really. I married you for all the wrong reasons and rushed into it, for that I am sorry. I admit that I have not been fair to you throughout these years, and for that I am sorry.” He stopped himself from reaching out to her, remembering the last time he tried such an action. She threw her tea at him.

She was quiet. Arms wrapped around herself, watching him with that guarded gaze of hers. She didn’t believe him for a second, however she was curious and smug that he finally admitted he was wrong for the first time in their marriage. “Fine. Apology accepted.”

“No.” He turned to her fully, looking at her face to face, openly giving the signal that he was honest, he was open. “Rhea, I truly am apologizing to you. I admit that yes, in a way, I was replacing… her… with you.” He raised a hand to stop her from speaking, already seeing she was about to jump into a tirade. “Please. Let me speak.” He lowered his hand when she huffed, leaning away from him. “I was not fair to you. I rushed our marriage, we both rushed into it, and I admit that I started all of this for the wrong reasons. I want you to know that I truly am sorry for how this started, how it spiraled out of control… For making you unhappy.”

...he was telling the truth. Rhea could feel his emotions coming off of him in waves, his sincerity was, everything about him was being genuine. Throughout her being, she knew and could feel how genuine he was at the very moment. The smallest part of her whispered to her, telling her it was a trap. To not trust him.

...but… he was… he was talking. He was trying...

“...yes. Yes, fine.” She sighed, “We both rushed into this. I had my own reasons, but yes. I… appreciate your apology.”

Well. That’s the first step, Fulgrim thought as he weighed his options on how to go forth. They weren’t fighting, they weren’t yelling. There wasn’t anything flammable or breakable in reach. They are alone, so they do have privacy to speak… “I also need to apologize for lunch today. For everything today and to explain-”

“On why you didn’t invite me?” She cut in, already defensive.

“That’s the thing. I did invite you, there was a miscommunication that led to you not being invited. Which, granted, was my fault. I never told my family your name and it was only recently that I told them I was married in the first place-”

He was cut off by her laughter, bitter and cold. “We’ve been married for over ten years now and you are just now telling them about it? You are unbelievable.”

“I never had the chance to bring it up you-” He clamped a hand over his mouth, physically holding back the vitriol that so wanted to escape. “...I never had the chance to bring it up to anyone in my family, beyond Ferrus. With how much I work and how often am needed in the front lines, I believe you can see why my marital status was never a pressing topic?”

Seeing him physically stop himself from speaking and attacking her, Rhea gripped her arms tighter. He was trying to talk to her, trying to stay civil. She supposed she could try as well. “I see your point. So… a miscommunication.”

“Exactly. I only told them about Rosie and-”

“Hold on, you told them about Rosie and not me, how does that work-”

“It is a long story and please stop interrupting me!”

She humphed, looking away from him.

“Long story short, my Father sent out the invitations, he didn’t know you, and whoever handled the invitations… well, I never told them about you… My legion was indisposed at the moment… Point is, I did invite you. I was not trying to exclude you, I wanted you here with me, with Rosie, with my family.”

“So… what? I jumped to conclusions?” She scoffed at the idea.

“Yes. Yes you did.” He watched her, the emotions flitting by as she rationalized and argued with herself internally. Confusion and anger flew by, all while she puzzled over the idea that she had erred. Previously, he would have gloated over such a victory, proclaiming that she was wrong, how did it feel to be wrong, egging her on into another fight. Now, he waited patiently, knowing how much it hurt to be confronted with the truth.

Remembering how angry she would get with herself before, even now, he gingerly reached out to her, hand barely grazing her shoulder. There was no tea to throw at him this time, yet still she practically yelped and jumped away from his touch. “Don’t!”

“What- I only barely touched you! I was trying to comfort you!” If it wasn’t one thing, it was another, he thought bitterly.

Cramming herself onto the far side of her seat, Rhea kept her eyes locked on his outstretched hand. She glanced at him, then the hand and back. “I… I thought you were…”

“What? That I was going to hurt you?” He scoffed at the idea, then paused when she didn’t deny it. He waited for her to say something, anything to brush away the growing tension of such an accusation. “You… do know I wouldn’t do that, right?”

Her silence unnerved and enraged him to his very core. He retracted his hand, hating how she relaxed when he got farther away from her. “Look, I… Nevermind. You said you wanted a divorce, correct?”

She stiffened, then locked her gaze on him. “I… I don’t know what I want anymore.”

“You have to want something, Rhea. You want to be happy, right? You want to be free, or you want to get out of this marriage, give me something to work with so I know how to talk to you-”

“Of course I want to be happy! But how can I be happy if I’ve never been happy in the first place?” She shouted at him, hands moving from her arms to cover her ears. “I don’t want to talk about this-”

“We have to talk about this! If you want to get out of this marriage, then tell me! Tell me what you want and I’ll make sure you get it! Do you not trust that I’ll do that for you? If you have never been happy in this marriage then-”

“I was!” She cut him off, silencing him. “I… I was happy.” Swallowing thickly, letting out shuddering breaths, she continued. “I was happy for a while. From… when you asked me to marry you, from when you kissed me, planning the wedding… I was happy.” She went quiet, squeezing her hands tighter over her ears, rocking back and forth slightly where she sat.

“And then…?” He prodded, careful to keep his tone soft and even.

She opened her mouth to speak, then shut it once more. She struggled to speak, struggled to get a single syllable out. Forcing her body to say the things that she desperately wanted to say.

“...you said her name.”

It always came back to this. No matter what he did, what he said, what he tried to fix, all of their problems always boiled down to Penelope and their first night. “Rhea that happened over a decade ago! When will you ever let me forget that? Why do all of our problems, no matter how big or small, always boil down to that night? When will you ever forgive me for that?”

“Because I loved you first!” She slammed herself back into her seat, violently. Eyes shut, hands gripping her hair. “I loved you first! Not her, it was me! And it was just another thing that was taken from me!”

Flabbergasted, he blinked a few times and tried to comprehend what she just said. “Pardon? Explain, please?”

“I…” Rhea shook her head, “It… It was before you married my sister. I was still just a schoolgirl, not even out of secondary yet. I was in my young teens, running away from home to explore the city, as I always did at that age. I happened to see you during one of those days.” She stopped, tears already rolling down her cheeks. “I saw you and knew then and there that I cared for you. Of course, you were perfect and wonderful and... It was before you met her, before all of this even happened. It was my secret, my very own feelings. It was something only I had, for just a little while.”

“I knew you were too great, too vibrant to ever notice a silly little girl like me. So I was content to stand back and watch you glow for everyone else and let you remain an innocent schoolgirl crush. I was happy if you were happy.” She paused, thinking back to  _ that _ day. “Then you met Penelope. And of course, you loved her. Everyone loved her. To her, you were the world and more, to her it was fate. To me, it was yet another thing that I was denied. I couldn’t have one thing to myself that my sister, my family, wouldn’t take away from me. It was agony to watch her talk about you, talk about what you did together, how happy she was with you. The more she spoke of you, the more I came to care for you as well, think us alike even. It was pure torture to watch her explode into happiness when you proposed to her, it was the most excruciating day of my life when I watched the two of you marry. I watched the man I came to care for, marry the sister who I could never live up to.” She stopped, shoulders slumping as she confessed to her deepest thoughts and feelings. “You… You don’t know what it’s like. To be the surprise your parents didn’t want. They were happy to have three daughters, they weren’t happy that I ruined their perfect little family. I was never good enough for them.”

She slowly pried her eyes open, daring a glance at him. “Everyone compared me to Penelope, every day of life. I was never good enough, getting criticized and compared, living day to day as everyone pointed out how I wasn’t good enough… To have the happiest day of my life, despite everyone rushing to shove political lessons down my throat as they stuffed me into my dress on what was supposed to be my time to shine… I was happy. I was so happy to marry you, to be with you. I was never good enough for everyone, but you thought I was good enough for you. Then… You said it. That night, it all came crashing down. I knew… I wasn’t good enough for you. I snapped.” She let out a breath, hands relaxing as they fell from her hair. “...I never thought I’d ever tell you that.”

“I-I thought I loved you-” She sniffed, pointlessly trying to hold back tears. “-then-then I met the real you.” A hand flew to her mouth to stifle a sob. “I’m so sad. I’m so-so-unhappy-” She hiccuped. “All I ever was to you was a replacement for my dead sister-”

She wiped away the tears, smearing her makeup as she did so. “Even dead she haunts me-” She sobbed. “-I can’t even get away- I can’t even follow my own wishes and dreams-” She shook her head, her body shaking from her crying. “-I’m stuffed into a mold I was never meant for.”

She leaned forward, her face buried in her hands as her sobbing grew louder.

“I-I don’t even have anyone… no one loves me, no one cares anymore, I’m just a stand-in.” She gave in to the flood of tears and grief as it overcame her like a tidal wave. She didn’t care for a moment of how indecent or inappropriate it was if anyone came upon them, the pain of the memories was too fresh in her mind still, the loss of so much that she once held dear, still too vivid…

Fulgrim merely sat there, feeling completely helpless.

Never before had anyone poured out their thoughts so carelessly and ranted at him before. Never had he seen someone so distraught and broken… had he done this to her? Was this the true fruit that their marriage bore?

Against his better judgement, he raised an arm and reached out again, a hand going to tuck loose hair behind Rhea’s ear and out of her face, that was now a mess of flowing makeup and tears.

Apprehensively, he touched her forehead with his finger, making her flinch, but not outright jump away as she did the last time.

Slowly, he pulled the hair out of her face, her sobbing only continuing as he did so.

When he had finally managed to move it away, he reached for his pocket and pulled out his decorative handkerchief, using it to try and dab away the mess forming on his wife’s face, all the while trying to find the correct words for the moment.

“I… I am going to tell you a story. And please… know that I mean no ill with it upon you, nor that my words bear any malicious intent.” He attempted to swallow the quickly forming lump in his throat, even as he continued trying to clean her face in vain.

“You might be surprised at how alike you are to her at this moment.” He swallowed again, feeling her flinch and preparing to shout if she had the willpower to do so. “Your sister was barren, you know this. Born in an inopportune time when the filth of radiation and other such poisons festered upon Chemos.”

He blinked, knowing that the only way forward now was to show his weakness, show the true him, not the proud and perfect Phoenician. Not the Primarch. Only Fulgrim…

“It did not stop us from trying.” He swallowed, the lump only getting bigger. “We thought that we had succeeded once… then… nearly two months in… she bled.”

He could see as her shudders lessened and she glanced at him for just a moment, her sobbing stopping soon thereafter. 

“She… she was much like you are at this moment. Sad and lost and… mad at everyone. The truth is that she was worried from the start, and so was I, but we powered on and… well, it was all in vain at the end.” He breathed, blinking back tears threatening to spill for a child he had never known. “But she trusted me, and I trusted her. We shouted at each other, we both grieved, we said things we never would normally say to each other. Mean, nasty things that can leave scars that are nearly unhealable.”

He held back the tears even as his hand came to rest on her back.

“She was strong. Stronger than you, yes, but also stronger than I.” He took a deep, unsteady, breath. “We are all imperfect.”

He felt her head whip up right as he looked away.

“Even me.” He whispered, just loud enough for her to hear. “I have erred. I have been a terrible husband, with no need to be one, all because I did not find it in my hearts to explain my logic to you as I did to Penelope. All because I was naive and had hoped against reason that your attachment to me and your ties to my former wife would be enough to form the same relationship without the… without the reveals of my weaknesses.”

He sighed deeply, finally looking down at her mess of a face, finding the deep green eyes staring back, that were so familiar yet so foreign to him. 

“I cannot take back my mistakes. I cannot bring back Penelope. She is dead and no one can nor ever will replace her. And I must come to terms with that, and that you are your own person.” He reached for one of her perfectly manicured hands, just as slim as hers, but also slightly longer, slightly stronger as well. “I cannot give you back the last decade of your life. Nor can I simply tell you to forget about how terrible our marriage was. But I can give you the freedom of choice.”

His tongue darted out, wetting his lips.

“If you so wish it still… I will grant you your divorce. I will not contest it, nor will I contest if you wish to not even share our daughter.” His voice nearly broke. “She needs her mother, and I have been a terrible father.” 

The quiet that reigned between them was enough to cause a lesser being to scamper away in fright. The air tense, the implications hanging between them whispered of the different paths they both could take.

Rhea mulled over his words, his story. The ball was in her court, she would be the one to make the decision and lead from where they stood. The space between them might as well have been a massive chasm that could have swallowed them up whole, no bridges in sight and the prospect of building one was too tall of an order.

She had asked his Father for a divorce, she yelled it at him plenty of times in private and now in public in front of his family. For as long as their marriage had lasted, that was what she wanted out of everything else he could have offered to her.

Yet there was one very crucial detail that kept her from accepting the divorce and moving on with their lives.

How would Rosie feel about such a sudden turn?

Rosie loved her father more than anything else in the galaxy, just as much as she loved her mother. It had been easy to imagine a divorce before when Fulgrim was nowhere to be found, out of sight, out of mind. But then as soon as she saw her father, Rhea could not deny that Rosie would be heartbroken over losing her father. Then her talk with the Emperor, how defensive she felt over losing her daughter for just a second… He would feel the same way, despite his offer to stand back.

It would be horrifically difficult to go back and forth between parents, unknowing if her father would come back for his time or she would await for the untold time Rosie would come back to her.

Their little girl would be exhausted in no time.

“I want to try. One last time. Rosie needs her mother and father in her life. I can’t imagine being away from her for even a single day, and you must feel the same way.” Rhea spoke at last, the minutes of silence having been broken. “I… I don’t know how I feel about you right now. I hate you at times, I despise you and sometimes I wish that this all would end… But… Sometimes I am unsure on how I feel about you.”

Fulgrim nodded, blinking away the tears threatening to come to his eyes, nodding along to show that he understood even as he sighed.

Slowly, he removed the hand he kept on her back, but keeping the one he had on her hand, slowly caressing it, doing so almost by muscle memory alone even as his thoughts wondered.

“How did we make such a lovely little being?” He asked openly, slowly shaking his head. “It makes no sense. We are so vile to each other, act like the very people we think ourselves above, yet she is so pure, so filled with love for both of us.” He shook his head further, not being able to make sense of any of it, all the while looking at the wedding band on Rhea’s finger.

“I don’t know. Believe me, I wish I knew. I want to do right by her, let her have the life she deserves. And that includes parents who don’t fight each other on a daily basis.”

Fulgrim nodded again, seeing the truth in her words.

“Then that means getting to know our true selves.” Fulgrim said, the tiniest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips even as a ridiculous idea came to mind. “Did you know… most of us Primarchs have until very recently at times outright hated one another?”

“Really? With how close you are with Ferrus, I thought all of you felt the same way with one another.”

“Trust me when I wish it would be like that.” Fulgrim sighed. “The reason why we were above Ullanor for so long aboard the  _ Bucephalus  _ was because we had what can only be described as an impromptu and terrible family therapy session.”

“Ah.” Rhea couldn’t hold back the snort of laughter. “I imagine it went as badly as lunch did?”

“We had an argument that lasted days. Countless furniture was broken. We nearly outright killed one another at some points. Got drunk together over the heinous alcohol that my brother Leman calls a drink. And ended up nearly destroying an entire internal portion of the  _ Bucephalus. _ ”

“And you are telling me this… why, exactly?” At least the tears stopped and were replaced with a perplexed smile.

“Did you know that my brother Magnus has an entire brood of Eldar half-breed children and multiple wives? Rogal distils whiskey in his free time and apparently partakes in a harem that he keeps on board the  _ Phalanx _ . Roboute also apparently managed to talk girls to sleep, that man… he can do alot of things but he can’t flirt.”

“What?” She giggled, her spare hand covering her mouth, “Why are you telling me this? I didn’t think the Primarchs had skeletons in their closets too-” She devolved deeper into giggles, going red in the face.

He couldn’t stop the smile that was starting to grow on his face.

“I guess- I guess the point I am trying to make is that… I did not know nearly anything about most of my brothers. I had just assumed they were either like me or that they had failed.” He motioned with his free hand between the two. “And I only found out that there was more to them than just political moves and failure by simply talking with them. Thus, I propose much the same.”

“Where-” She was taking deep breaths to stop her laughter, it drained away after a minute or so. “Where do we go from here, then?”

Fulgrim allowed a smile to grace his face as he shifted his chair so that it faced her directly. Drawing away his hand, he stood, bowing his head to her as if he was some lowly suitor. 

“My Lady.” He nearly had to stifle a laugh at how ridiculous it felt. “Fulgrim, Noble ruling house of Chemos. May I have the pleasure of your name?” He held out a hand, ready to grasp hers, trying to keep it together and not burst out laughing over the play he was putting on of a Princess meeting her Prince.

She stared at him blankly for a few seconds before her mind jump started, causing her to grasp his hand in her own. “L-Lady Rhea of House Gautier, fourth daughter.” Just when she thought her laughter from before had gone away, it came back with full force as she tried desperately to stop herself from bursting out in laughter… or worse… He’d hear her real laugh.

He laughed with her then, unable to hold it for a moment longer just as he kissed her hand, matching her giggles as he collapsed back onto his chair.

“Did I-” He took a breath. “Did I mess that up horribly? Throne knows, I haven’t practiced courtship in so long that I could nearly write the book on how not to do it. I think I’d call it, ‘How not to date, for dummies’.”

She couldn’t hold it back anymore, bursting out laughing at full force over how absurd the entire situation was. Full belly laughter that hurt her waist and all the while complimented by her hideous suidae snorts.

He snorted out a laugh in return, all the while continuing to hold onto her hand, looking at the wedding band on her finger, an ancient one, valued highly, with a material rare enough to match said price, and the ugliness to compliment it.

“That is one terrible looking wedding ring.” He said, his voice contemplative and still full of laughter. “Your husband must have terrible taste. What is he, a few centuries old?”

“D-Definitely-!” She batted a hand at him, unable to reign in her atrocious manners. “You are completely absurd-!”

“I am, I am-” He breathed in quickly, desperately attempting to stop another laugh from escaping. “What say your new husband allows his wife to choose one instead? Seeming as his entire idea of a ladies wardrobe and fashion is outright outdated.”

Calming herself down with only the occasional giggle escaping her, she shrugged. “Perhaps I shall take up such an offer. If my new husband is up to snuff, that is.”

“Why, of course.” He harrumphed like a theater actor, rising, his chest puffed out comically even as he reached down with a hand. “One’s wife only need to escort said husband, if she will have him that is?”

Standing from her seat, taking his hand gingerly, she curtsied. “She shall. But be warned, she does not give second chances.” Before he could respond, she made a face and a hiss of pain. “...and also does not have shoes on.”

Fulgrim spat out a small laugh, quickly holding it back as he accepted her hand, desperately attempting to stop himself from smiling at how funny that was.

She reached up and hit him playfully on his chest. “You ass, that was- that was not meant to be funny-” She couldn’t stop yet another fit of giggles from escaping her, realizing the ridiculousness of the situation.

Fulgrim calmed himself, gently tugging at her arm, before reaching down and swooping her up.

“What- Fulgrim! What are you doing-” She glanced from floor to husband, back and forth as she was adjusted in his grasp. “Fulgrim- this isn’t funny- put me down-!”

“If I do that, then you’ll be hurting yourself. And do you really want to wait and endure my terrible jokes until a servant brings you some new shoes?” He bargained with her, knowing he made an absurd amount of sense. “Besides, I’m not going to drop you.”

“I’m going to kill you.”

“Last I checked, a world filled with Orks tried that. It didn’t work.” He grinned at her and began making his way out of the garden. “Don’t worry, as soon as we are on solid ground that isn’t going to cut you up, you’ll be back on your feet in no time.”

“I hate you.”

“Don’t worry, it’s only for a moment. Honest.” He thought for a moment then asked, “Is this going to reflect badly on my standing with you? You said you were going to give me one last shot.”

She sighed, waving him off. “No, it’s fine. Just put me down as soon as we are inside.”

“Don’t worry, I will.” He nearly stopped as he only just realized something. “What happened to your shoes in the first place?”

“I threw them into a fire.”

Fulgrim felt his eyebrows fly into his hairline. “Note to self, no fancy shoes.”


	24. Extras 3 part 2 - In which we see Damien's first day in the Fortress of Hera and we all wonder how he came from Konrad of all people I mean seriously

Night had fallen upon Salutis. Many of the Primarchs, had retired to their apartments for some well-deserved rest. Some fell asleep quickly, a certain other brother took a while after they had  _ certain _ fun with their newly re-acquainted spouse.

There was one, however, who wasn’t working or sleeping.

Konrad Curze, the Night Haunter himself, couldn’t fall asleep. His mind was too active to allow his body to rest.

Wrapped in the warm fuzzy dark sheets of his massive bed. His mind was wandering to the alternate future. And the topic was a surprisingly interesting one.

He thought back to everything that has been seen on the vids so far, from the very beginning to the latest of the vids. From the half breed boy, to the rest of the children, to the future that seems to keep growing in darkness from the bright future they were now walking towards. But from everything he remembered from the vids, vids and the timelines that wouldn’t leave his mind, was someone who only showed up a couple of times before being taken away.

And there was one surprisingly lacking topic.

Where was future him and his future s… The… the boy.

He hadn’t seen him in the vids in awhile, they were too busy focusing on the halfbreed of Guilliman. He just… He didn’t care about it or anything, just wondering what happened.

And then there was Guilliman himself boasting about the sheer amount of content that he got from the side-vids that he watched in private because nobody else could actually be bothered to. Which means that since no one else would be bothered to watch them with him, he could just watch them by himself…

So… maybe… If Guilliman can do it, so can he.

…

Padding barefoot through the Palace at the middle of the night was strange. For the entire duration of the construction and rejuvenation of Salutis itself, he hadn’t actually slept and had instead stalked the halls. Then tried to find Lion and kill him. Then scoured the sector with Corvus. He hadn’t slept and it was beginning to grate on him.

Shivering, he couldn’t handle walking through the palace in his pajamas. It felt…  _ weird and wrong _ . He quickly shed them and the blanket he had with him for his armor, which made him feel more at ease and comforted than anything else.

Nonetheless, he soon reached the deserted viewing room.

Looking through the shelves lined with countless vids, he flew through all the new ones. Finding that there would be a while before Damien would show up again.

But then, a glimmering shadow in the corner of his eye got his notice.

He turned around and stalked to the vid, finding that it was labeled really early. And had a certain name signed on it…

Tenderly taking the vid and flipping it over in his hands, he contemplated if he really wanted to do this. He could just turn around, do something, literally anything else, and never look back. He could just go destroy some combat servitors, or get something to knock him out. He could just let it go and not look back.

Or he could watch it and see more about that little ray of sunshine that annoyed him to no end. Just imagining all of the talking, and the hope and love just made him want to throw the vid across the room and forget the whole thing.

He groaned as he couldn’t make up his damned mind.

Stalking over to the holoprojector, he attempted to power up the damned thing but…

It’s like it was locked, or cursed, or…  _ something… _ it simply didn’t want to power up.

“Damn fucking thing…”

“Issues, brother?”

Konrad whirled around at the unknown voice, relaxing slightly when he saw that it was in fact only Ferrus. Also wearing his armour.

“Ferrus.” He began. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing Konrad.” Ferrus retorted as he stopped a few steps away from Konrad. “But to spare you the humiliation… I can’t sleep, thus I decided to go work on something, but I cannot focus, thus, I am wandering.”

Konrad understood that, but now he was wondering how he could admit that he was just wanting to watch a vid for no reason. At all.

“So brother, what are you doing?”

Konrad immediately fell on the defensive. “Nothing, merely wandering like yourself.”

One of Ferrus’ mechadendrites pointed at the holovid he was holding. “While casually holding a holovid?”

Konrad sighed, knowing he wasn’t getting out of this one.

“I was browsing what we could perhaps watch in the future.” He definitely wasn’t making excuses. “And I just happened to find this one. Maybe something else could be seen.” He then attempted to shove the vid back where it was, hoping he could hide it for another time. Or never.

The vid was suddenly snatched from his hands from his back. He instantly turned around, intent on knocking out whoever dared do it.

Only to find himself staring at a pale skinned little raven.

“Corvus.” He groaned. “What are YOU doing up?”

“Same as you, I couldn’t sleep after dealing with Fulgrim’s shenanigans and catastrophe of a marriage.” Ferrus shuddered at this for some reason. “But… it’s solved for now  _ apparently  _ and I have nothing to do.”

Konrad looked between his two brothers. Not sure what to do.

“So…” Tentatively began Ferrus. “Want to watch that vid now?”

“What, this one?” Asked Corvus, holding up the holovid he snatched from Konrad.

“Yes. I see why not, it’s not like we aren’t doing anything other than wasting time.”

Konrad was actually beginning to get worried.

“What is it about anyway-” Corvus began as he lifted up the holovid so he could read the label, stopping when he saw the massive Night Lords legion stamp. Then he looked back up at Konrad, a grin plastered on his face. “Really? I never took you for the sentimental type Konrad.”

“Shut up.” Konrad ground out. “I don’t care about the boy. I just… wanted to waste time like Ferrus pointed out.”

“Well, it looks like I’m not the only one who doesn’t feel like sleeping.”

The voice caused all three of the brothers to turn to the entrance into the viewing room. Seeing Horus, who actually was wearing his night clothes, unlike Konrad and Ferrus.

“I was making my way towards the kitchens for a late-night snack, but I thought I heard your voices coming from here. What are all of you doing?”

Corvus held up the vid. “We all can’t sleep for one reason or another so we’re going to waste some time watching one of the left out vids.”

“Sounds fair to me, mind if I join you? I’m sure some of the serfs who are up to wouldn’t mind bringing us snacks.”

“Snacks would be wonderful.” Corvus confirmed even as Konrad contemplated throwing himself out of the window in order to save himself the embarrassment.

“Great! I’ll order something from the vox comms, just snacks or you want something else?”

“Spiced hot seeds for me please.” Corvus pointed out, taking a seat on his throne and leaning back into a more comfortable position.

“I will take some recaff, I can’t sleep anyway.” Ferrus said as he walked off to join Corvus.

“And you, Konrad?” Horus looked over to him.

Konrad contemplated it for a moment, mulling out the humiliation…

“Get me some of that damned Ale Leman keeps yammering on about.”

Horus’ eyebrows flew into his non-existent hairline. “That is… uncharacteristic about you to say the least. Are you sure?”

“Give me the ale or I leave and take the vid with me.” Konrad hissed at Horus, who only shrugged. Corvus looked smugly at Konrad.

“So it **_is_** important to you.”

The bat then wondered how nice the wall would look like with a giant blood splatter in the shape of the little raven.

Konrad groaned before pointing at Horus. “Get me the ale.  _ Please _ .” Then he marched off to his throne and plopped down on it with an audible smack even as Corvus handed the vid to Ferrus and Horus returned after giving the kitchens their order and sat down in his own over-glorified chair.

He was not salty, he just hated having an audience with something he definitely didn’t want to watch in the first place.

Ferrus all the while popped the vid into the holoprojector and pressed only one rune, causing the projector to immediately spring to life and begin to play.

“What the fuck…” Konrad murmured to himself, swearing that he did the  _ exact _ same thing earlier.

“What is that brother?” Asked Horus, who was sitting on his left.

“Nothing. Just watch the fracking vid.” He was positive that he did that exact same thing. Maybe it just hated him.

**…**

**204.M42 - Macragge,** **_Fortress of Hera_ **

**...**

Ferrus: “Well, this was a little while ago… wow, does that feel weird to say.”   
Horus: “We very quickly got used to these being in order.”   
Corvus: “I suppose that is what happens when someone gets the passion to watch one of these and it’s set to quote: ‘in the past’ and now, the timeline is all-OUCH MY HEAD!”   
Horus: “Are you alright brother?”   
Corvus: “Yes, yes… this happens when you attempt to mess with fathers' thing of messing with the timelines. Because SOMEONE decided to make it illegal and put barriers in place.”

…

**The Emperor’s apartments**

…

“Why do I feel as if someone is currently dissing the shit out of me for being a hypocrite again?” The Emperor questioned aloud even as Malcador sighed, slammed the rest of his whiskey, grabbed his staff and began walking off.

“Where are you going Mal? We’re barely five rounds into hyperdimensional-”

“To bed. I’m done with you.” Malcador muttered as he walked away. This entire 'vacation' just keeps turning into work, vid watching, game playing or something else about destroyed family values. Dealing with everything was enough to make the Sigilite want to have a break. And playing this damned game with Revelation and a daemon wasn't helping anything!

“Awww, it was just getting good!” Whined the interdimensional warp tear leading directly to a random spot in Tzeentch's realm.

“Fuck you, your tumor. You stay there.” Malcador grumbled as he slammed the door closed behind him and the Emperor breathed a sigh.

“What’s his problem, anathema?”

The Emperor shrugged, knowing Mal just needs a moment to himself to relax and recharge. They can play cards later after they plan some more and get ready for the War Council. He then grinned widely, ready to shit all over the daemon. “Nothing. Just getting old, oh and I attack you for all of your life points.”

“HOW DOES TZEENTCH PLAY WITH YOU!?”

…

**Back to the viewing room**

…

Soft… so very soft… sooo comfy…

Damien bolted up from the bed, hair sticking up in different directions, with some pieces defying gravity. He swiveled his head around, looking at the huge bed he was currently in. He’d never lied in something so comfy before, almost like it was a cloud in physical form with how soft it was and how he was able to snuggle deep into the mattress. This is so much better than the floor with a pile of rags for a sleeping spot!

Horus: “...hey Konrad, don’t you look exactly like that when you wake up?”   
Konrad: “No I don’t.”   
Ferrus: “Nah, you totally do. Fulgrim told me how your hair defied gravity a lot back before when you were first found.”   
Konrad: *Already breathing deeply in suppressed rage* “I am going to shove that-”   
Horus: “Shh! Watch!”   
Corvus: “Are you Sanguinius now?”   
Horus: “Someone has to be! Shush!”

And sooo warm! The big black fluffy blanket with a massive golden Aquilla embroidered on the middle of it just made him want to stay there forever! Stay there forever as a big cocoon! A bat cocoon! A big fluffy bat cocoon!

But his body was telling him to get up despite the sun just barely peeking above the horizon in the distance. He wouldn't be able to stay in bed, even if he wanted to...

He was far too used to getting up quickly. Although he did sleep for what must have been like twelve or so hours, he could stay for another minute in here! He just had to get up and do something! But now that he thinks about it… who knew that asking your newly found dad so many questions, that also just so happened to be your idol, would be so tiring!

And then drinking so much broth where he truly felt full for the first time in his life.

And getting a lot of tailoring done.

And jumping on this new big fluffy bed.

And then running around the palace again…

And then having your dad chase you around to get you back…

Corvus: *Grins broadly in Konrad’s direction*

Konrad: *Keeps muttering something*

And then asking him  **more** questions...

Okay, so maybe he had a reason to be tired!

He felt and heard as his stomach rumbled, loud and angry like always. It made him shiver from the rumbling, he always felt sick when he gets hungry. His dad said that the Apothecary told him it was normal because he was a… what did they call him again? A Prime… Primechild? That Primechildren need to eat a lot. That was a funny name. He giggled to himself.

This time yesterday, he was preparing to do one of his shows. Now, he was lounging about in his new bed, in a room in the Fortress of Hera… which reminded him.

As it turned out, everyone HAD gone voluntarily with the robed guys. So in a way, his breaking into the Fortress of Hera was kinda not really a good idea in the first place to save people who went there on their own. But in the long run, breaking and entering the fortress did get him to meet his idol and his dad, so that worked out too? He had yet to meet those specific ones, but he had met plenty of the other ones. He had to admit, once you got to know them they weren’t  _ too _ bad…

His stomach grumbled again and that was enough motivation for him to fling the covers off and get up. It was weird sleeping in only his undies, he usually just slept in his clothes for warmth but… it was all going to take so much time getting used to.

He walked over to his massive closet and flung open the doors. Row upon row of black and blue uniforms lined the closet along with so many other things! Jackets of all types, trousers, so many shoes and boots. There were even a few capes and cloaks!

Corvus: “Gets the taste of his style after his father, clearly.”   
Horus: “Doesn’t that sound a tad bit hypocritical coming from you?”   
Corvus: “What do you mean?”   
Horus: “What? It’s obvious, you two have the same color aesthetic.”   
Corvus: “What? No. He has black with blue, I have black with white. Massive difference!”   
Horus: *Stares in big brother judgment*

He was honestly overwhelmed with all the choices before him.

He picked the first thing he saw. A plain white shirt and some black pants that looked comfy along with whatever shoes and socks he reached for first. It took him a while to put them on since he kept getting stuck and had to start over. It was odd having clothes that properly fit along with shoes that weren’t already rotting off…

But he also felt off. Wearing these clothes, combing his hair and looking presentable, he didn’t feel like himself. He felt and looked like someone completely different. Well, he never really looked at himself before. Sometimes he saw himself in the reflections of moisture collectors, but nothing was ever clear. But a mirror? He was surprised. He felt really silly for not ever connecting that the Night Haunter was his dad.

Horus: “Big shocker.”   
Ferrus: “No one saw it coming.”   
Corvus: “The mystery of the millenium.”   
Konrad: *Angry silence and slight coloring of the face*

His stomach grumbled again…

Wait, he did vaguely remember where the kitchens were when he ran away from his dad the first time around. It was early, but surely asking for a snack wouldn’t be wrong right?

Damien quickly left his room and made a beeline for the kitchens, there was barely anyone around this early in the morning. He passed by some Space Marines and Serfs, but he paid them little mind. With how much rest and food he had yesterday, his energy was so… soo… HE WAS SO FULL OF IT!

He actually felt like he was faster now, like before he was just a snail compared to now!

He quickly found the kitchens, following the sweet, sweet smells of the cooks preparing breakfast. Actually, what do people eat for breakfast? Is it more of the ration bars? Will he get lots of those? He kinda hoped so, since they were filling. But they tasted horrible.

Slipping inside, he was surprised at how full of activity the kitchen was, with servitors and regulars cooks bustling through, yelling out orders and prepping for the day ahead. And here is where Damien encountered a problem…

He didn’t know how to ask them for anything. There’s a difference between asking for something from a seller at a stall, they were always waiting for someone to come up and ask for something. But everyone here was so busy and it was actually kinda hard to find the right moment to ask anything of them.

Then he saw the trash bin.

Konrad: *Peaks* “Don’t you dare…”   
Corvus: “Ten thrones the kid dives in.”

Well, he didn’t want to get in the way. So he just quietly opened up the bin and was picking out things from there to eat. With how fresh it was, he was able to get a few pieces in before…

Horus: “We all saw it coming, there was no way I was going against that bet.”   
Ferrus: “Why do you think I didn’t say anything?”

Before someone tried to throw something away and it collided with his head.

“AGH!” Damien cried out, trying to get the trash out of his hair, not noticing how quiet the kitchen got at the moment. “Hey… I was eating there…” He grumbled out, picking out egg shells from between strands. Euugh. His hair was sticky now.

“He’s back...” He heard a cook whisper from somewhere.

“Wait, isn’t he THE kid?”

“What? Do you mean Lord Curze’s? Now that you say it… the resemblance is practically uncanny.”

Corvus: “If everyone else can see it-”   
Horus: “Why wouldn’t he?”   
Ferrus: “Well, maybe Damien isn’t the sharpest tool in the drawer-”   
Konrad: “The kid is a lot of things! But he’s not fucking dumb! Shut the hell up Ferrus!”   
Horus: “Woah, okay. Calm down, Konrad. I’m sure Ferrus didn’t mean to insult your future child.”   
Konrad: “That… I don’t care if he insults him. I just don’t care for lying. He’s obviously not an idiot, so it’s a crime to say so.”   
Corvus: “Lying is a crime?”   
Konrad: “Completely.”   
Ferrus: “...then shouldn’t you be-”   
Konrad: “SHUT UP AND WATCH THE VID.”

Damien looked up to all of the cooks who were frozen in place. He glanced at them before waving at them, “Hi! I’m Damien!”

Konrad: “... not a word.”

All of the cooks froze again.

“What is going on!? Why have you all stopped dammit!? Breakfast is in two hours!” The commanding voice of a chef cut through the cooks like a scythe through chaff as the Head Chef came walking through the kitchen, stopping when he saw the tiny form of Damien near the trash bin.

Damien merely waved at him. “Hi! I’m Damien!”

Konrad: “... not. A. Word.”

The chef put on a tiny smile even as he elbowed some of the cooks to get back to work.

“Uhm, my lord.” Said the chef, kneeling in front of Damien in order to get to his level. “This is… against protocol.”

“Lord? I’m not a lord, just call me Damien!”

“Well, technically… my Lord, you are. By the order of the Lord Commander. You are Lord Damien Curze. Primarchial heir to the sons of the former eighth legion.”

Damien looked up at him, still more than a little confused. There were some things he was supposed to read up on that a serf gave him from Uncle Guilliman but trouble was… _ he couldn’t read… _

Horus: “Thank the throne Magnus isn’t here to see this.”   
Corvus: “Agreed.”   
Ferrus: “Agreed.”   
Konrad: “... agreed.”

…

**Magnus’ apartments**

…

Magnus suddenly shot up from his bed, wide awake. “I… suddenly feel very annoyed.”

“Shut it nerd!” Leman shouted as he burst into Magnus’ room, making the cyclops give him a weird look and a hand running along his tired face.

“Leman, what in all the books on Prospero are you doing here...?”

“Yer’ promised to drink with me! So yer gonna drink!” Leman looked too proud and excited for this at this time of night.

A sputter, and suddenly he was fully awake, squinting at Leman as he realized that yes, this was real. “Why-why would I do it!? And here of all places!? This is my personal rooms I-”

“Too late! Lads, come on in!”

A massive army of Space Wolves suddenly squeezed through the door, carrying tables, mugs and kegs of Mjod.

“Oh! We can put the fireplace there!”

“Get the damn Grox roastin'! I’m hungry!”

“Skjol!”

“Skjol!”

The sound of mugs smashing together and breaking immediately filled the air along with the acrid scent of Mjod.

Magnus could only stare in shock as in a matter of  _ seconds _ , a full-fledged Space Wolf feast, slowly roasting Grox included rotating over an open fire, was in full swing in his apartments.

It was a true testament to how far they have grown in these weeks. Before, he would have gladly killed Leman for breaking into his room to start a wolf party. But now? He was only mildly concerned. There went any chance of catching up on some sleep before the kids got there… But… speaking of kids… There is one that has been fighting tooth and nail to not be like him...

“Leman, I have a question maybe you can answer…”

…

**Back in the viewing room**

…

Though he did have to admit, the “Curze” part still gave him a warm fuzz deep inside.

His stomach rumbled again and he felt himself blush as the chef’s smile grew wider even as he offered the tiny Lord a hand. “Here, why don’t you come with me. We’ll get you a snack and then call someone to get you.”

“Snack! Yes!” Damien happily called out as he took the kind Chef’s hand and they walked towards the pantry.

…

Many floors up in the Fortress of Hera, Sister Palicia was on her knees by her bed, clutching her Aquilla pendant in quiet morning prayer. It was five am on the dot and she had just gotten up.

Corvus: “What’s a Sister of Battle doing in the fortress? I thought Roboute hated their guts.”   
Lorgar: “I dunno, but has to have a good reason.”   
Horus: “What the fu- Lorgar!? Where did you come from?”   
Lorgar: “Oh, well, I heard a commotion in Magnus’ room that woke me up and I wanted to get something to drink and well… Point is, here you guys are. So whatcha watchin?”   
Ferrus: “And you just so happened to come in on a part where it’s about religion.”   
Lorgar: “Oh shit really? Good timing then. So again, what are we watchin?”   
Konrad: “These fucking timeline-OUCH! YES OK! I’LL STOP NOW OK!?”   
Corvus: “...anyway… We’re watching a vid about Konrad’s son, Damien. He wanted to see him and we’re keeping him company.”   
Lorgar: *Glances at Konrad* “...no offense, but he looks like he’s ready to flay all of us just for being here.”   
Ferrus: “Don’t worry, he always looks like that.”   
Lorgar: “Fair point. Move over.”

Her quarters and surroundings were new. Having been restricted to either the walls of her monastery, the battlefield or the main market of Macragge Magnas Civitas for her entire life.

Yesterday she was among the crowd, recruiting more potential sister for the ordo Famulous, herself being devoted to the ordo Dialogues but also studying the ways of the Famula. While also not be removed from the way of Chain and Bolter.

The times were hard on all of the remaining ordos. A Sister no longer had the luxury of choosing an exact course.

Lorgar: “Oh yeah, Roboute really hates the Ecclesiarchy in the future. I don’t blame him.”   
Ferrus: “But at least he’s still making use of them.”

That reason is why she had already fought in two wars. Both against the filthy greenskin xenos. She idly felt the scar coming down her right cheek from her eye tingle at the memory of barely avoiding a potentially fatal strike...

It felt good to bring the glorious salvation of death to the Orks. Just as good as exploring the meticulousness of diplomacy and the intricate culture of Mankind.

She had, in fact, arrived back on planet mere days ago, taking an extended leave from any study for a meditation retreat before attending to her duties of recruiting for the sisterhood only yesterday.

But later that night, the Prioress herself had summoned her, bestowing upon her a task. One which would involve a great amount of commitment

*The service doors of the viewing room open*

Horus: “Oh great! Snacks are here!”   
Konrad: “Fucking finally. *Swipes ale and chugs half of it in one go*   
Lorgar: “I don’t even want to know. Monarchian tea please.”   
Corvus: *Munching on seeds*   
Ferrus: *Sipping on his recaff*

…

“Sister Palicia. This assignment I trust to you out of knowing that your faith in the Emperor is sound, your hands wield a bolter as surely as they do a pen and your mouth sings battle hymns as well as it speaks politics.”

Sister Palicia bowed before the Prioress, humbled greatly by the praise. “Only by his will Prioress.”

“May he continue to favor you Sister. For if you accept this assignment, it could quite possibly be the most important of your life.”

Palicia looked up at the Prioress, her eyes wide with anticipation, excitement and perhaps a bit of fear. The Prioress stopped walking and sat down before speaking further.

“I have chosen you to be the governess of one Lord Damien Curze. Son of Primarch Konrad Curze himself.”

Horus: “Oh, it’s Palicia. That certainly explains why she’s in the fortress. I didn’t recognize her without her dress.”   
Konrad: *Grumbling*   
Lorgar: “I think it’s a wonderful idea on Roboute’s part! If I remember correctly from all the ordos she listed off, she would be a skilled diplomat and orator. Which would explain why she did a good job taking care of Damien later on.”   
Corvus: “What makes you say it was Roboute who requested her?”   
Lorgar: “What makes you think it was Konrad?”   
Ferrus: “Actually, if you think about it… Konrad would have found someone like that to take care of Damien, since that means someone else is keeping him away from him. And would teach him and get him ready. Konrad would make sure Damien has someone to take care of him, since, by all the Machine Spirits in my cybernetics, we know he won’t.”   
Konrad: *Knowing his future self probably didn’t care enough to do that even* “Bastards.”

She felt her breath quicken even as her head dropped again.

“To what do I owe this honour Prioress?” She asked, feeling slightly overwhelmed.

“The Emperor has been with you for all your life Sister. Despite our… less than enthusiastic receival upon Macragge, and being forced to adapt to a far less convenient system, you have followed your edicts as well as you could.”

Palicia kept her head bowed as the Prioress continued.

“Your service in both the Ordos Dialogous and Famulous gives you the experience necessary for such a task.”

The Prioress stood and walked over to her side. “I personally fought in the Olaxis crusade alongside the Sisters of the Order of Our Martyred Lady. I know they do not give out this honour lightly.” She gently ran a calloused hand through her silver hair even as pride continued to bloom inside of Palicia’s heart.

“So tell me Sister Palicia, will you serve the Emperor’s own blood?”

“I will.” She spoke without hesitation, without even a second thought. She lived to serve the Emperor’s will. She would not deny this honour.

Lorgar: “See? Religion and faith can produce someone good after all!”   
Konrad: “I wish you stayed asleep.”   
Lorgar: “And I wish you were normal, so I guess no one gets what they want.”   
Corvus: “Wish Jaghatai was here for that one.”

“You make your Ordo proud Sister Palicia.” Once more spoke the Prioress. “It gives me great pleasure to see that there is still hope in this galaxy for our sisterhood.” The Prioress walked back behind her desk, sitting down and pulling out a datapad before handing it to Palicia who carefully took the device.

On it was displayed the pict of a little boy with tousled black hair and very pale skin.

“My charge?” She asked.

“Indeed.” The Prioress answered. “Though, there is one more thing. An order directly from the Lord Commander himself.”

Sister Palicia tensed up as the Prioress continued. “No teaching the child prayers or showing open devotion to the Emperor in front of him.”

Horus: “Roboute is REALLY taking the chance to hit them when they’re down.”   
Corvus: “To be fair, I would do it too.”   
Ferrus: “I think all of us would.”   
Lorgar: *Raises hand and opens mouth before deciding otherwise*

Palicias head whipped up from the datapad to look at the Prioress even as a hand unconsciously grabbed at her Aquilla necklace.

“Heresy…” She quietly whispered.

“A test.” Corrected the Prioress. “It is well known that the Lord Commander detests… the more...  _ fanatical _ of our faith, having hailed from a different time.”

The entire present family: “You can say that again.”

Palicia swallowed, worried about this more than anything else. Never before had she had to stifle her faith or her need for prayer and contemplation of the Emperor’s word and will. It would be a difficult task to be sure…

“Can you do it Sister?” Tenderly asked the Prioress once more even as Palicia slightly inclined her head for one last time.

“Of course, Prioress, by his will, I shall succeed.”

A smile graced the aging Prioress’ face. “Good. Pack up Sister. Your transport will be here within the hour.”

…

She finished her prayers and stood to her full height. Padding over quickly to the bathroom attached to her sleeping quarters. She showered quickly before tending to her shoulder-length Silver Hair, the honour to color it such bestowed to her by the sisters of the Order of Our Martyred Lady as she fought alongside them with unwavering determination against the greenskin menace.

Horus: *Whistles* “Not gonna deny that she’s a beauty… don’t you fucking dare say anything.”

She brushed through it with humble pride beating in her heart and giving a silent prayer to the Emperor for her fortunes.

Then she dressed. An elegant but functional, red and black colored dress. A slightly loose more flowing skirt going to just above her ankles along with a tight, but not skin tight top that pronounced her young fit figure. She slipped onto her feet a pair of ankle-high, high heeled black leather boots. Finally, she tied a sash around her waist. The sash was embroidered with all of her battlefield honours as well as her achievements in the orders Famolous and Dialogous. They were all tied together by the heradly of the sisterhood, embroidered in gold.

Horus: “Quite presentable too, as always.”   
Lorgar: “I’m sure you know all about presentable women, brother.”   
Horus: “What did I say, Lorgar!?”   
Lorgar: “Oh, I heard it. But I don’t remember saying I’d listen to it.”   
Ferrus: “I really do wish Jaghatai could have heard that one too.”

She carefully tucked her golden Aquilla pendant necklace in front of her dress and prepared to walk out of her room and check her schedule. She knew by heart that she would need to awaken young Damien at 7 am sharp, then according to the occasion, pick out his outfit, make sure he was cleaned up and prepared for the day before ushering him to breakfast where he would meet up with his cousin, the Crown Prince to the Golden Throne itself.

“Kitchens to D G, are you receiving? Over.”

Horus: “Calling her? Ouch, Damien is going to feel this one for days.”   
Corvus: “I thought father raised you? And a warlord before that.”   
Horus: “He did, doesn’t mean I didn’t run off from time to time.”   
Ferrus: “Did you ever eat out of the garbage?”   
Horus: “Only once.”   
Ferrus: “And were you punished for it?”   
Horus: “No. Father was too busy laughing so hard he fell on his ass when Constantin was holding me by my collar and I was dangling in front of him.”

The sound of her vox going off surprised her, but she reached into the hidden pocket of her dress and took out the small receiver before pressing down onto the ‘send’ rune.

“This is D G, receiving you loud and clear Kitchens. Over.” What could the Kitchens possibly want this early? Had they perhaps not received what dietary requirements her charge had? She would need to go look those up, to her embarrassment, she did not quite yet have the time to learn everything about Damien by heart-

“We have Lord Damien with us, requesting instructions. Over.”

Wait… what?

She pressed the send rune. “Say again. Over.”

“We have Lord Damien with us in the kitchens, madam. We found him eating out of the trash can again.”

She couldn’t help but visibly recoil in disbelief. “Eating trash…  _ again _ … Over.” She straightened herself out and picked up her standard-issue cane, tucking it into the sash on her belt, before marching straight out of her room with the stride of a woman scorned. “I am coming. Over.”

Horus: “Brothers, we are about to see the thrashing of a lifetime.”   
Ferrus: “Verbal or physical?”   
Lorgar: “Both?”   
Konrad: *Denying that he is getting concerned*

…

He had never tasted something this good before!

Damien was happy to dig into his snack, he didn’t even know bread rolls could be this soft, flaky and- it had butter! He didn’t know what butter was but he liked it. Usually, he would just inhale his food and be done with it in seconds, but he took his time, savoring it. It got him a few weird looks from some of the staff, but he didn’t care. He always has people giving him weird looks, so nothing had really changed.

Ferrus: “I remember the first time I had proper food. Was strange after eating only sand for most of my early life.”   
Corvus: “That’s right. I also heard Konrad cried during his first real meal with Fulgrim-”   
Konrad: “I DID NOT CRY! No one cries after eating a meal! Lies and slander!”

He listened in as they shouted orders to each other, however. Noting down each of their names mentally. It wasn’t hard, just had to pay attention.

He slowly munched on what little remained of his bread roll, swinging his legs from the counter that he was sitting on, looking between all of the cooks as they chopped up vegetables he had never seen before and scrambled what he thought must have been eggs before they were cooked like the ones he saw in the ready food market stalls.

Right as he was about to ask Chef Rond if he could maybe have another bread roll as he was still hungry, the main doors leading to the kitchens were flung open.

Damien looked up at the person who barged in and felt as though his heart stopped.

It was the girl from the market! The really cute one with the scar going down her right cheek and the silver hair!

Horus: “Aww, well look who’s got an innocent little crush.”   
Lorgar: “...that sounds ominous coming from you.”   
Horus: “Please don’t ruin what little good there was about my childhood.”   
Lorgar: “Ok. Fine.”

Except now, she was wearing a dress and looked angry. Who would make her angry?

He wanted to wave at her and greet her like his mom always told him to do… but for some reason, he was just shy around her. So he stayed quiet, but still had a smile on his face.

She scanned the room, then her gaze landed on him, her blue eyes locking with his for just a second even as Damien couldn’t stop the blush that came to his cheeks.

Then she started yelling.

“Lord Damien Curze!” She demanded even as she practically stomped over to him. “Look a the absolute state of you! Dirty clothes!” She picked up one of his sleeves with two of her fingers. Oh, he guessed it was dirty from him wiping his mouth on it. “Running away before even breakfast then spoiling your appetite by snacking! Then sitting here on the counter when you should be resting!”

Ferrus: “Is this how mothers act?”   
Horus: “Uhhh… maybe? I only have the warlord and Father to go off of.”   
Lorgar: “I would have thought you knew how mothers acted.”   
Horus: “What? Why would I- no don’t you dare-!”   
Lorgar: “Seeing as how you made all those women into mothers.”   
Corvus: “Holy shit, Lorgar. Where are all of these zingers coming from?”   
Horus: *Groans* “I didn’t impregnate any of them-”   
Konrad: “Artemis.”   
Horus: “I DON’T KNOW WHERE SHE IS KONRAD SO IT DOESN’T COUNT.”   
Lorgar: “I don’t know. It just feels like since it’s just us, I actually have the chance to speak up and make jokes. It’s nice.”   
Horus: “Great! Ignore the big bad brother! Sure.” *Mumbles*

“But… But I’m not tired. And I was hungry…”

“NO buts young Lord! If you feel peckish, you contact the kitchens via a servant!” She glanced at the clock hanging on the walls. “Oh look at that, if we don’t hurry we will be late now! Come along.”

She put her hands on her waist as Damien looked at all of the cooks giving him sympathetic looks. He was really confused, why would it be bad for him to come and ask for food? Why get a servant to go there and ask for him and then have them bring it to him? Wouldn’t it make more sense to just go there himself?

“Young man, I am waiting.” She stated, looking more and more angry by the second.

Waiting? Waiting for what? Are they going somewhere? Why would they go somewhere else? He wasn’t that dirty, more like… only slightly dirty? He was used to it, so why is she making such a fuss? His mom never got mad at him for being dirty.

“Oh that's it, we don’t have the time for this.” Then she reached out and picked him up underneath her arms as if he weighed nothing at all… which to be fair wasn’t far from the truth but- then she put him underneath her arm and began walking away even as his blush only got redder. Damien’s arms and legs dangled to the floor, as he wondered why she was so weird.

Konrad: *Blinks twice*   
Corvus: “Anyone have a holorecorder? I want to take a pict of this.”   
Ferrus: “Done. I’ll send you a copy. Do you want one too, Konrad?”   
Konrad: *Groans*   
Ferrus: “Taking that as a maybe.”

“I was hoping you would be a better Lord than this young man. Protesting and acting errant. We will have to work on that.” She lectured even as they walked out of the kitchens and back up towards his living quarters.

“Protesting? I’m… I’m confused.” Damien wondered, this day getting more confusing as time went on.

“Don’t play coy with me, young man. You are in enough trouble as is. As your governess, it’s my duty to make sure you grow to be a proper lord. And look at this start! I couldn’t be more disappointed if I tried!”

He let out a low whine, sounding like a kicked puppy. He didn’t understand any of this! What did it even mean to be a proper Lord? He didn’t mean to make her disappointed in him…

Corvus: “How far is this going to go? The misunderstanding between them can only go so far before it crumbles down.”   
Lorgar: “How long is the question though.”

They entered a turbolift and she let him down, putting him back on to his own two feet even as she straightened up his shirt and fastened the two buttons he never bothered doing himself. “Look at this…” She murmured even as she knelt so she could be face to face.

“Wait, that’s how it goes?” He asked, wondering why clothes had to be weird and tricky as well.

She sighed. “When I get my hands on your previous nanny I swear…”

“Nanny? What’s that?” Damien asked head cocked.

She looked up at him again. “Blow into my face.”

“Wha-what!?”

“Blow into my face. I smell something.”

He did so and immediately regretted it when her face became red and she got angry at him again. Damien tried to stop her from getting mad and explaining it to her, “What-? But… But I always eat trash…”

Konrad: *Covers face and groans*

“Not anymore you won't, young man!” She all but screamed as she scolded him and the doors of the turbolift opened up.

“Let's go, to your room!” She shooed him along with her hands, practically pushing him down the hallway until they got to his room as she closed the door behind her, before marching up to the curtains and opening them, letting in the sunlight.

“Alright, you go have a bath while I straighten up things here.”

Her charge, however, continued to stand there, perplexed at the idea of a bath. What even was a bath? Then he thought about it, a bath… Wasn’t that what the animals he saw outside do sometimes? It was just a lick on themselves or a fluffing… Yeah, he could do that. A bath sounded different from that crazy shower thing.

Then he lifted an arm to his face and began licking away what he thought would be grime on his skin. Which tasted weird, but if she wanted him to bathe, whatever, he’ll do it.

Konrad: *Smashes head against empty mug* “Ughhh…”   
Ferrus: “...to be fair… That’s what I thought a bath was when I was small.”

His arm was grabbed all of sudden and pulled away, revealing the very angry looking governess.

“Young man! I am  _ this _ far away from bending you over my knee and giving you the rearing that you deserve!”

What did he do  **now** !?

“But- but I don’t know what a bath is!” He squawked in protest, causing a look of confusion to cross the woman’s face as she sensed the honesty of his words.

“You have never been bathed… before…” She started slowly.

Damien nodded, finally she was getting it! “Yeah…? I mean… I lived next to a moisture collector in an alleyway… a day ago? I put on shows for coppers so I could get food bars.” He shrugged, not sure why she was angry or why her face was different now.

Lorgar: “One of these days we’re going to find out how and which woman actually managed to bed Konrad.”   
Ferrus: “Why wouldn’t he be the one to bed her?”   
Horus: “No. Just… no.”   
Konrad: *Grumbles half-heartedly in agreement*   
Corvus: “Damien did say his mom was blind, so we can tell her standards weren’t that high, to begin with.”   
Horus: “If there was a ritual to summon Jaghatai, he would be flying out of a warp tear by now.”

She sighed, even as her eyes took on a look of pity. “Come with me then.” She spoke, far more gently this time as she took him by his hand and lead him towards the bathroom.

The inside was much  _ much _ warmer! And it was all glossy!

“Alright, strip down to your underwear while I draw you a bath.” She walked over to the big tub looking thing in the middle of the room and turned a valve as water began pouring in.

Well, strip to his… STRIP TO HIS UNDIES?! IN FRONT OF A  _ GIRL!?  _ “But… Aren’t you a girl!?”

“How very astute of you, little liege.” She murmured as she looked at him. “I won’t bite.”

Corvus: “I swear, it's a miracle Jaghatai hasn’t crashed into this room by now.”   
Konrad: “He better stay in his fucking room, if I have to deal with Jaghatai and his scathing remarks, I’m leaving.”   
Ferrus: “Actually, I believe he is currently on literally the other side of the planet.”   
Horus: “What is he doing there?”   
Ferrus: “If I recall correctly, I caught a bit of his conversation that went something like: ‘Race you to the north pole’ to some of his gene-sons.

“But… But my mom said to not show my undies to girls.” Damien remembered his mom saying that to him when he was young and decided he didn’t like pants.

Ferrus: “Ah yes. The pant hating phase.”   
Corvus: “You had that too?”   
Ferrus: “Yeah. Long time ago, back when I was alone.”   
Horus: “You two hated pants?”   
Lorgar: “I never had that problem. I wore robes all the time, so I was encouraged to hate pants.”   
Konrad: “...all of you are so fuckin weird.”   
Ferrus: “You have no room to talk, Konrad. It took Fulgrim weeks to get you to wear pants!”   
Konrad: *Grumbles*

“Your mother was correct. But this is the exception. Now, either you take your clothes off, or I will.” They didn’t have time! Breakfast was in thirty minutes!

He thought about it. What would be more embarrassing? Stripping himself? Or her doing for him? After thinking about it for a second, he decided he might as well do it himself.

And that’s how he got to have his first real bath. Well, a bath and not a shower. Wait, weren’t they the same thing? “Are baths and showers the same thing?”

She looked up just as she turned off the valve and ended pouring in all of the nice-smelling soaps. She recoiled, a look of horror plastered on her face.

“What?” Asked Damien, not knowing what he did wrong this time.

He saw and  _ felt _ as her eyes carefully looked over his body, causing the blush from earlier to make a  _ very _ quick return.

No wonder he felt like nothing when she picked him up! He practically looked like there was nothing in him! His ribs stuck out, his stomach looked to be concave and angry, arms and legs far too skinny. He looked closer to a smiling skeleton than a child!

A look of sympathy appeared on her face as she remembered him telling her he was on the street even yesterday! Was this some sort of test from his father to see if he was worthy of his mantle? She decided to ponder on that later.

Konrad: “Does she think so little of me!? I would never harm  _ children _ !”   
Horus: “You wouldn’t?”   
Konrad: “I HAVE SOME MORALS YOU KNOW!”   
Horus: “I’m sorry, but… hearing you have morals is actually really surprising.”   
Corvus: “It still isn’t easy to see Damien be so thin…”

“No… showers and baths aren’t the same, get in and I will show you.”

“What… get in there?” He asked, pointing at the tub.

“Yes. Get in, you’re filthy.”

He edged closer to it, looking over into the tub. It looked… not safe. And well… she had been yelling at him and not listening and… Did he really trust her?

Before he could make that decision, he felt as she lifted him and put him into the warm water, causing him to recoil at the strange sensation. “Good, now lay back gently.”

**Is she gonna drown him!?** “Whyyyyyy...?” He asked timidly, not used to the weird sensation of calm water on his skin, not sure if this woman was gonna try and kill him.

“Because that is a bath. Lie down on the slope part of the bathtub and just make sure your head is above the water.”

He wasn’t sure how true that would be but did as she said. The water did feel nice… and it did have a nice smell to it… Actually, could he sleep here? He very hesitantly began to lie down, feeling as she held onto his back to help him lay back.

As he finally laid down he realized just how soothing and relaxing this felt and let out a little sigh. It felt like the warmest hug he ever got… and it felt so clean and… he could stay here forever...

Horus: “I remember my first bath aboard the Bucephalus. It felt like heaven.”   
Ferrus: “Hm, I remember my first shower. Felt strange not being covered in sand and soot anymore.”   
Konrad: “... I remember mine as well.”   
Lorgar: “Really? Bath or shower?”   
Konrad: *Sighs* “Shower. That amount of water at once… felt strange.”   
Lorgar: “I can understand that. It took me a while to grasp the concept of seas and ocean worlds.”   
Konrad: *Slowly gets a bit more comfortable in the group*

Palicia could have sworn her charge was now purring like a content little kitten.

She put a towel on the floor and knelt on it as she took some shampoo and carefully rinsed Damien’s hair with some water before applying the shampoo with nimble fingers, making sure to bunch up the long and wild hair.

Damien blushed again by instinct but also leaned back further, finding that he was enjoying this far beyond his capability of caring for the embarrassment of a girl washing his hair.

Speaking off… what would he even call her? She would probably get mad if he just called her lady…

“Hey uh… what do I call you?” He mumbled.

“I am either Sister Palicia or Governess to you, little Lord.”

“Sister? Sister of who? My mom never had anyone but me.” He asked, not sure what any of that meant.

“Sister of Battle, little one. I am apart of the Ordo Famulous. And until further notice, your governess.”

“What’s a… what’s a governess?”

“I am your caretaker. I take care of you, and make sure you get a proper education and that you become a proper Lord.”

“So like my mom?”

“Something like that I suppose.” She murmured even as she washed out his hair with some water.

“Huh. I have a mom again. That’s nice, I guess. My mom was blind. She died 2 years ago.”

Horus: “Poor child. I feel for him.”   
Ferrus: “I have a feeling it’s only going to get worse.”   
Corvus: “And yet he still is positive and beaming.”

The governess stopped for a second, before continuing to wash out his hair. “I am sorry for your loss, little Lord.” She finally finished washing out all of the shampoo, before gently placing a hand on his cheek and turning his head to face her. “I will take care of you, you have my promise and my word, before the God Emperor I swear-” She stopped, suddenly remembering  _ that _ little detail of her assignment. “I swear it, by my sisterhood.”

She got off of her knees and stood. “Now. I am going to turn around, I want you to scrub yourself down, then wrap yourself in this towel.” She pointed at the towel folded neatly on the table next to the bathtub.

“But… why will you turn around? You didn’t need to before.”

“Little liege, I am giving you the privacy that you deserve. You are seven standard years old. You do not need to stand naked before me.”

Wait… Did he just offer to stand naked before her!? WHAT WOULD HIS MOM SAY!? Wait, isn’t she his mom now? This was all way too confusing.

Horus: “He’s so awkward.”   
Ferrus: “But not as awkward as Aegidius.”   
Horus: “Fair point.”

He lifted himself from the water and did as she asked, glad she was giving him orders that actually make sense. Funny enough, this towel was actually softer than the one he had yesterday when he was showered by that Medicae guy. It didn’t hurt when he scrubbed, but this towel definitely felt nicer. Could he keep it with him all day?

“Are you done wiping yourself down?” The governess asked in a gentle tone.

“Yes! Can I keep this towel?” Damien asked, after wrapping himself in said item.

“What?” She asked, turning towards him. “Don’t be ridiculous, little Lord. All the towels in this room belong to you anyway. And clothes are the proper thing to wear outside of this room, not a towel.” She lectured even as she gently grabbed his hand and lead him out of the bathroom in front of the massive closet.

Corvus: “Ah, realizing you own far more than you thought. I will never forget the day I got my Power Armour and realized that it was actually meant for me and me only.”   
Horus: *Nodding along* “Strange feeling, going from rags to riches in literally moments.”   
Ferrus: “Just owning something of my own was enough to get me emotional.”   
Konrad: *Glancing at everyone, pausing as he realizes that maybe he does have something in common with them*

“But it’s so soft and I’ve never felt anything this soft before. I really like it…”

“There is comfort. And then there is duty. Your clothes need to be on the fine line between both.” She began to stack things on the table next to the massive closet. Damien recognized that the first thing was undies. Then there were some socks. Then some pants. Then a shirt. Then another shirt like thing. Then some other bits and pieces. Then some other pieces. Then some boots. Then… what was all of this for?

“Wha… There’s so much… What even is most of this? Can’t I just wear pants and a shirt? That’s what I always wear.” He asked, not even sure how most of this is even supposed to be worn.

Horus: “Ha! He’s your son alright Konrad!”   
Konrad: “What’s that supposed to mean?”   
Corvus: “Are you serious? You wear plain black robes to the absolute minimal formal events you are forced to attend. You couldn’t care less about the style of your everyday clothes. And besides, you wear armour all the time! Even now! Damien clearly got it from you.”   
Konrad: “...ffff… fair point…” *intense sneering*

“When meeting your cousin and potentially your uncles? Preposterous! You will get used to it.” She handed him his underwear even as she turned away and he reluctantly dropped the soft towel before putting on his undies.

“Done. But... I met my Uncle Guilly when I was only wearing a towel?”

She turned around, staring wide-eyed even as she shook her head before giving him his trousers, then his shirt, then she had to fasten the buttons for him, then she gave him his socks. Then she had to help him put on what was apparently called a jacket. Unlike his white shirt, this one was black. And then she fastened… something to his shoulders. They were little gold-colored plank things with bat-winged skull thingies embroidered on them. Then she helped him put the boots on since he never really wore boots before. Finally, she brushed down his jacket and made sure everything was ‘Straight.’

“Just in time for breakfast.” She breathed a sigh of relief even as she attempted in vain to comb his unruly hair.

His feet had never felt so restricted in his life. Even his old shoes were just sacks and some hard stuff he found. But he could stretch his feet easily. Now they felt like they were stuck in large tubes and he didn’t like it one bit. The only thing he liked less was how she was now trying to “comb” his hair. Even his mom gave up on that a long time ago.

What type of unholy, Emperor forsaken hair was this!? She thought to herself as she tried to comb the mess that was Damien’s hair. She was sure she could tame this monster, especially since there were pieces that were currently defying gravity with everything it had. But she either would have to hack off some of the offending strands, or find some other way to take care of it.

Now that she thought about it, he must have never had a single haircut in his life.

“Alright, we’re out of time. We will get you a haircut as soon as I can fit one in your schedule.” She then rushed him out of the door. Walking closely by him as they walked down the hallway to two massive doors, guarded on both sides by two absolutely  _ massive _ golden statues.

Then the statues as one moved and opened the doors for them.

OH WAIT THOSE ARE CUSTODES!

Horus: “Oh no.”   
Ferrus: “It begins.”   
Lorgar: “I don’t have ear plugs…”   
Konrad: *Slouches in throne, just wanting it to get it over with*

“You guys are Custodes!” He blurted out, excited to see and meet them! “Oh my gosh, I have seen posters of you guys everywhere outside the Fortress! You know, the posters aren’t really that accurate, you look a lot bigger than they say, but well, you are being compared to a full-grown person and I’m not even full-grown so maybe that's why you guys look bigger in person- I’m sorry I’m just so excited to meet you guys, you guys are legends! Is it true that you guys fought through the warp to get here after Terra- Wait is me mentioning Terra something I’m not supposed to do, cause well I don’t know how to do a lot of things my governess keeps getting mad at me like not eating trash and what a bath is-”

He was very suddenly pushed along by said governess even as she gave her sincerest apologies to the Custodes who were staring absolutely shocked after Damien. Surprised that someone that small could even talk that fast.

“-wait hold on I never got any of my questions answered why are you pushing me I have so much I need to learn from them, but breakfast is important, wait but Custodes are important too, I don’t know what’s more important so-”

“This isn’t appropriate Damien! You do not rant at the Emperor’s own personal guard!” She quietly scolded him even as she pushed him into the massive room.

“-but I’m not ranting I’m just talking to them, talking isn’t a bad thing to do! Not like the other things you told me not to do, which I gotta ask, why are so many things that I do and say are wrong? This is getting ridiculous, why do I keep messing up and always have everything be my fault, is it because I lived on a street? That sounds kinda like discrimination, but wait, am I getting off track, what did I originally start talking about-”

At this point she just placed a hand over his mouth, unable to handle another sentence that vomited from his mouth. “It is if you do not even greet them and they are standing guard. They need to focus on their duty. Just as you need to focus on yours. I understand that this is new to you, but just keep quiet, do not speak out of turn and you will already improve massively.”

“Mmmnff mnf mmnm mnm mnn mmfft fnn mmn mmmgh nmm-” Damien kept going, even with her hand over his mouth. Alright, this needed drastic measures, but they were almost to the table. So she leaned down and whispered into his ear.

“You remembered when I warned you earlier how I would punish you? If you do not stop this instant I will do that here, and I will make sure those Custodes see how bad of a boy you are.”

Damien immediately shut up. He didn’t want the Custodes to see him being bad… That would be almost as bad as his dad seeing him be bad…

Horus: “Thank Roboute for that governess! Honestly!”   
Konrad: “How the hell can my future self be around him?”   
Ferrus: “Is he done? I plugged my ears with spare parts I had lying around.”

He allowed her to steer him to the massive table and sit him down, standing by his right shoulder even as she put a datapad in front of him. There were some numbers and letters… but that was it…

“Um… what am I looking at?” He asked perplexed.

“Your schedule.” She helpfully pointed out. She watched him and noticed how his eyes didn’t stay on one line for very long, he looked around in no recognizable pattern, like he was looking at a picture…

He heard potentially the biggest sigh of his life behind him. “My lord, can you not read?”

Damien looked up at her, head cocked. “No, why?” So nonchalantly, like it wasn’t newsworthy.

Corvus: “Once again, thank the throne that Magnus isn’t here.”   
Lorgar: “I can still hear the bitching in my mind.”

…

**Magnus’ apartments**

…

“I feel… annoyed again… and maybe a bit drunk…” Magnus slurred his words as he collapsed onto the table, breaking it clean in half to the cheers of the Space Wolves and his brother Leman around him.

“Yer done already nerd? It’s only the first bloody table!”

“Nooo… I got  _ this! _ ” He quickly jumped to his feet, grabbing another tankard of Mjod and quickly chugging it to ever-growing cheers.

“We’ll make a party animal of yer yet brother! Skjol!”

…

**Back in the viewing room**

…

He heard potentially the second biggest sigh of his life as Sister Palicia took back the datapad and made some adjustments before showing it back to him.

“Here. This means Awakening at 7am.” She pointed at the next one. “This means breakfast at 7.30am.” Then the next one. “This means learning to read at 8.15am”

Damien nodded along, seeing some patterns begin to emerge.

“This means lunch at 1pm.”

“Wait… I have to learn to read for… five hours!?”

Oh good, he at least knew how to read time. That’s one less thing that she had to teach him. “Yes. You obviously need to learn and we have a lot to catch up on. We need to set aside ample time for you to start your studies.”

“What’s study?”

She almost sighed again, but the doors opened on the opposite side of the room. And in walked a little boy of blonde hair and sharp ears. One his right side was a Custodes. And on the left was the hero, Captain Cato Sicarius of the Ultramarines. Both the Custodes and Ultramarine were in full armour and didn’t notice neither Damien nor Palicia as they sat down their liege who still appeared to be fighting off sleep.

Damien lost interest in his datapad, and instead was looking towards the other kid at the table. Remembering what Palicia said, he decided to do it right this time. So he quickly waved at the kid, practically standing on his chair and cried out, “Hi! I’m Damien! What’s your name?”

This appeared to startle the child as he almost tipped his chair back and would have went crashing to the ground if the Custodes and Captain wouldn’t have stopped him. He looked towards Damien, blinking many times as he realized there was someone else at the table now.

“Oh uh… Hi… I’m Aegidius.” Damien saw as the Custodes and Captain looked at him.

Roboute: “Oh hey, you're still up!”   
Konrad: “Of fucking course…”   
Horus: “Brother. You’re awake as well.”   
Roboute: “Yes I am. I was actually in the middle of getting some work done in my office. The palace isn’t fully done yet, the gardens still have some work to be done there as well, Rogal and Perturabo have requested more supplies for their personal projects not just for the palace but for the new city that’s being planned along with the planning for the entire family to be here for an undisclosed amount of time. So all in all, some light work to wake myself up for the heavy load awaiting after. How about all of you?”   
Horus: “Well, none of us could sleep for one reason or another and decided to spend the night here and waste some time away watching some of the older vids.”   
Roboute: “Oh, so that is why it is M42.204. Explains a lot.”   
Lorgar: “How do you know which year this is set in?”   
Roboute: “By how Aegidius looks of course, although, I actually haven’t seen this one yet.” *Pulls out throne and sits down on it*   
Ferrus: “You can tell the year just from that?”   
Roboute: “Of course! His face is still more round than square, his ears are still a bit too big for him, hair has more bounce and his size is the biggest indicator of where this takes place. Easy to do once you study it long enough and have references.”   
Corvus: “And you do?”   
Roboute: “I have been compiling a pict album of him and even clips from some of the vids. I’m currently on 87 pages.”   
Horus: “Not obsessive at all. But anyway, let's watch.”

Then he looked at the Captain directly in the eyes. Then his eyes trailed down to the iconic helmet maglocked to the Captain's thigh armour…

He felt as he began to shake…

**_He had so many questions for him!_ **

Corvus: “No.”   
Konrad: “NO!”   
Lorgar: “Someone shut the kid up before he-”

Palicia had a feeling Damien was about to embarrass himself again, so she quickly pulled him back down onto his chair and hissed into his ear, “Do not ask him questions.”

Konrad: *Slaps thighs* “Thank you!”   
Lorgar: “See? They’re not so bad.”   
Roboute: “Oh, that Governess is here already.”   
Corvus: “Yeah, we saw how she got hired by either you or Konrad to look after Damien so he doesn’t just wander around aimlessly. She used to be a Sister of Battle. Still is one, actually.”   
Roboute: “Ah.”   
Lorgar: “She’s great!”   
Roboute: “Sure.”   
Lorgar: “Why the sour tones brother?”   
Roboute: “That fanatic is too close to Aegidius for my liking.”   
Lorgar: “Oh for fu- fine.”

“Oh… Ok…” He grumbled, then looked back to Aegidius, “Nice to meetcha ‘Gidius! I heard that there was a kid here, but I didn’t think I’d meet ya! Are we cousins? Because my dad is the Night Haunter- uh… Well, his name is actually Konrad Curze, but I like thinking about him as the Night Haunter cause-” Palicia covered his mouth.

“That’s enough questions, let him answer some first. There are things called  **turns** in conversations.” She looked up at Aegidius and bowed her head in an apology. “I apologize in his place my Prince. We are still working on his decorum.”

“You’re a... Sister of Battle.” Spoke Aegidius. “I always wanted to meet one of you! But father never allowed any into the fortress before now.”

Roboute: “And I wouldn’t if Konrad would just be a father!”   
Konrad: “If I did that, the kid would be dead in days.”   
Roboute: “Oh come on, it’s not that bad. He lived alone for 2 years, so that’s got to count for something.”   
Konrad: “Ah yes, living on the streets alone. And living next to a moisture collector. In your city on your planet.”   
Roboute: “...point.”

“I am honoured my lord.”

She noticed as Aegidius’ eyes traveled to the sash tied around her belt. “Wait… correct me if I’m wrong but… Ordo Famulous, Ordo Dialogus… award for Holy slaughter in the Emperor’s name…?” She saw him wince at that. “... and you have Silver hair so you’re part of the Order of Our Martyred Lady.”

“You are… correct on all statements my lord.” She spoke in a surprised tone. Not many cardinals even got half of them right.

Roboute: *Look of a proud dad*

“Mhmhmh!” Damien spoke and she realized that she still had her hand on his mouth and quickly removed it even as Aegidius pumped the air with his fists in celebration.

Damien took a large breath, “Come on… I was just talking with him…” He huffed.

“Oh yeah!” Spoke up Aegidius, now looking to his newfound cousin even as toast with scrambled eggs was placed in front of both of them along with warm milk. “I didn’t realize uncle Konrad had a son.”

Konrad: “Neither did I.”

“I didn’t know I was his son until yesterday!” Damien answered, then was entranced by the food brought out for him. “Food!” Then he quickly started to reach for it with his hands, ready to finally eat after so long! He hadn’t had a nutrient bar in… Wow, a long time.

His hands were smacked away immediately by a wooden rod. He looked up to see a scowling Sister Palicia holding her cane and shaking her head. “Fork for the eggs, hand for the toast.” She lectured quietly even as Aegidius didn’t seem to particularly mind.

Ferrus: “How long did it take you to not eat things with your hands? I think it took me around… 4 days before it stopped by my first instinct.”   
Konrad: “...a week.”

“Fork?” He looked down and realized there were utensils there for him to use.

“The one with the spikes.” She encouraged.

He grabbed hold of the “fork” and began to shovel food at a slow pace. He wasn’t used to the thing, but quickly adjusted. He just took a while since he was too busy savoring each bite. It almost felt as if he was missing something and now it was here for him to finally connect with. He never had a table to eat at, or even have a family to share a meal with since his mom. The fortress and life here just seemed like a dream, a dream he wasn’t comfortable with, but wouldn’t want to trade for anything. Even if his governess yelled at him, and he got everything wrong, and he annoyed people.

At some point, his vision got blurry, and before he knew it, he was crying at the breakfast table.

Both Sister Palicia and Aegidius noticed that Damien was crying, each having their own reactions to it. Sister Palicia wasn’t really sure why he was crying but had a good idea on it. Aegidius had no idea of how or why this kid was crying while eating a plate of eggs.

“Uhm… Are… Are you okay?” Aegidius asked, not sure how to help the boy who was sitting away from him.

Damien looked up, wiping away the tears. “Huh? Sorry… I’m sorry, I just started crying…” He hiccuped in his seat, feeling embarrassed he was crying in front of people.

Ferrus: “I was delighted when I first tasted proper food, I had a similar reaction, but nothing this bad.”   
Corvus: “I was a little emotional when I tasted finely crafted food, but the same goes for I as well.”   
Konrad: “...”   
Horus: “Konrad? You okay?”   
Konrad: “Shut up.”

Sister Palicia placed a hand on his back, giving it a small pat and some soothing circles, crying children do need comfort after all. “Just take deep breaths, it will pass.”

Damien nodded, trying to stop his tears. “I’m sorry. I’ve never tasted anything so good before and I… I just cried…” They wouldn’t stop and he was getting frustrated with it!

“Uhm… It’s ok I guess.” Said Aegidius. “You’re nothing like your dad…” He murmured, just loud enough for Damien to hear.

Damien just ended up even more embarrassed, here he is crying over eggs and how overwhelmed he is… His dad wouldn’t be like this at all… “I’m sorry.”

Konrad: “...okay fine! I cried when I ate real food for the first time! Happy!?”   
Horus: “What? No! Why would we be happy?”   
Ferrus: “Sure we pick on each other, but I’m sure all of us have grown to a point where we can actually act like brothers.”   
Corvus: “I fight with you a lot, but I won’t belittle you for crying over real food. That’s just beyond depressing. Even for me.”   
Lorgar: “As they said, we’re at a point where we can be comfortable enough to talk about this stuff with each other.”   
Roboute: “Would you have ever admitted to that before? Even if you think we’ll just belittle you for something like that?”   
Konrad: “...no. I wouldn’t have said anything.”

Breakfast continued in relative silence after Aegidius re-assured him for the final time that it was just fine. Damien found that his cousin was busy himself as the Custodes by his side explained his own schedule to him as Palicia did to him as well.

Near the end of breakfast, and after one plate and a lot of milk, Damien calmed down enough to start talking again. Sister Palicia did tell him he couldn’t over eat right now, something about him damaging his already damaged body. His eyes were still a bit red from his episode, he hadn’t cried in front of people before and it stung. He kept glancing at Aegidius, wondering about the boy who was surrounded by both a Custodes and the Captain himself. And apparently was his cousin.

Maybe he could see if they can escape from their schedules and go have fun?

Then again, what do kids do for fun? He just knew how to work and perform for money, what did regular kids do for fun?

“Hey ‘Gidius!” The Prince looked up at him, a curious look in his eyes. “What do you do for fun around here?”

“Oh uh… I.. read I guess. Oh and I play regicide! Mostly with Brother Santodes when he can play!”

“What’s regicide? It sounds like a crime or something…”

Horus: “Ah… well… he’s not wrong?”   
Corvus: “True that I suppose. It is similar to the names of actual murders.”

“Oh nonono, it’s a game of pieces where two people play against each other with two different armies. It’s quite complicated.”

“That sounds… kind of fun, I guess.”

“You  **_guess_ ** ? It’s great! I’ve been trying to master it for my whole life and still can’t beat my father.”

Damien guessed that beating the Lord Commander who was responsible for strategically placing the  _ entirety  _ of massive forces of the Imperium in a game based on two armies fighting each other was  _ probably  _ next to impossible.

“Maybe we can play sometime?” Damien asked hoping that he wasn’t making Sister Palicia mad with the request.

Whatever the case, it made Aegidius smile. “I would love to!”

Roboute: *Smiles appreciatively*

Damien’s train of thought was interrupted by a soft beeping coming for his Governess’ datapad.

“Time to learn how to read.” Spoke Palicia as the table was cleared by the servants.

“Ahhh really?” Whined Damien.

“Yes. It is really important you know how to read. Come along.” She held out a hand which he reluctantly took as she lead him towards him room even as Aegidius waved goodbye to him before turning around and almost falling flat on his face if not for the Custodes who grabbed onto his hand.

…

**2 hours later…**

**...**

“... here you have to pay attention, as once again, there is a difference between how you use…”

Damien tuned her out for the hundredth time…

This was sooo boring! Why did he have to learn how to read? It’s not like- SMACK!

He was snapped out of his daydream as Sister Palicias cane smashed down on his desk.

“As I was saying… here we use…”

Ferrus: “Ah yes, learning how to read. That was…  _ fun.” _ _   
_ Horus: “I’m pretty sure all of us learned it in under an hour.”   
Ferrus: “Doesn’t mean I had to like it.”   
Roboute: “No…?”   
Horus: “What do you mean by no?”   
Roboute: “I… am fairly sure I was born with it. I don’t remember ever having to learn how to read.”   
Konrad: “Typical.”   
Roboute: “What about you then Konrad?”   
Konrad: “... Fulgrim taught me.”   
Lorgar: “It’s a shame you aren’t better friends with him.”   
Konrad: “Because he’s an insufferable cunt who never shuts up about how  _ perfect _ something needs to be. Corvus is at least fracking quiet most of the time and is actually happy too, but at least keeps it to himself.”   
Ferrus: “He’s… not so bad… Okay, you have a point, but he is… he means well.”

Damien tuned her out again as he looked toward the door of the Oratorium they were in… he could do it...

He watched her lips moving, then just kinda started to think about how weird that was that people made sounds by flapping their lips and using their tongues to make sounds. And sometimes the sound wasn’t even the same. Then he started thinking about how different Low Gothic and High Gothic were, why did there have to be two languages? It just felt kind of unnecessary, like why not have just Gothic?

Now he could hear the clicking of shoes outside of the room. Someone was walking by and it was a nice little click, click, click, click, click, he wondered where he or she was going? Was it somewhere important? He kinda wanted to find that out, his leg was jumping up and down again, he wanted to get up and do something, wait, what was he doing again?

SNAP! “Owww!” He cried out as Sister Palicias cane smacked his hand.

“Focus.” He heard her demand even as she went back to the lesson.

He tried to stay still and listen to her, but his mind kept wandering away to different topics. Like what else had he seen with that shade of white before? He could have sworn that it reminded him of his mom’s eyes, with how milky white they were. Kinda like the milk he had today. He never had milk before, it was actually kinda tasty. He wondered if he could put any flavorings in it? Can you even put flavouring in milk?

What even would be flavoured milk? What flavour could he put there? Hopefully not corpse dust, he hates the stuff. He’s kinda glad he doesn’t have to deal with that stuff anymore, but they were filling. Speaking of filling, his tummy has never been this full before and it was weird to see it flat and not a weird inverse into his body.

Roboute: “Too bad Mortarion isn’t awake. Damien appears to be far too confused, even for a child his age.”   
Horus: “I recall someone I knew when I was still on Cthonia. Couldn’t keep still, would just randomly burst out with weird phrases, wasn’t crazy, just seemed to get lost in his head a lot. I’m sure we could get Father to join, he should still be awake and would have an expertise or an idea on this.”

*The brothers look at Horus*

Horus: “Someone slap me if I suggest that again.”

He needed to pee.

“Sister Palicia.”

She turned to him. “Yes?”

“I need to pee.”

“Left, go to the end of the hallway.”

“Thanks!” He jumped out of his chair and out the door. Quickly running for the bathroom and relieving himself, jumping back when the urinal thingy turned on by itself.

He washed his hands as Sister Palicia told him he needed to after breakfast and walked out.

Where had he come from again? Ah well, if he went right he would be  _ right! _ He giggled at his own terrible pun as he marched off.

…

**_30 minutes later..._ **

…

Horus: “Just like Cthonia… only worse.”

He was in  _ sooo _ much trouble...

He was desperately running around, trying to remember where the Oratorium was. He asked a few people including a Space Marine or two but the Fortress of Hera had Oratoriums all over the place!

He remembered how Sister Palicia threatened to punish him in front of the Custodes if he kept his “bad manners” up. His hands unconsciously went to his butt. His mom threatened him but never did it though he remembered some of the other kids talking about it. He wasn’t looking forward to that, no way!

He got to set of two massive double doors. Well… he tried every way, he might as well look here.

He groaned as the doors revealed an absolutely massive Librarium. This wasn’t the way either! Maybe he could ask the Librarian or something.

Roboute: “Oh… Library of Ptolemy…”   
Lorgar: “Why the doubtful tone brother?”   
Roboute: “The section of the fortress where his room is… well there is not a nice way of saying this. He walked across the entire fortress.”   
Konrad: *Motioned toward the screen with both hands, heavily breathing through the nose*   
Ferrus: “...how in the shit did he do that?”   
Corvus: “Considering how quick he is due to his genetics… I am guessing like that? Or he talked some Ultramarines or Serfs into letting him tag along for a ride?”

He walked in, finding nobody at the main desk he instead walked in deeper. Passing Marines and Serfs studying texts and artifacts. Some of them looked cool but again…  _ he didn’t know how to read… _ well, not well. Sister Palicia thought him surprisingly well! Or well, he could have the mind of a Primarch. How does the mind of a Primarch work? Wait. How did minds work in general? They were brains, weren’t they? They had to contain a loooooot of information. How did storing that info work? Was it like a giant filing cabinet inside their minds that had lots of small creatures that fly very fast to retrieve the info?

“Damien?”

“How do Primarch mind creatures get the info so fast?”

“What? What are you talking about?”

Damien looked right, seeing his newfound cousin sitting at a table with a massive book in front of him, looking back at him with a confused look. Then he realized that Aegidius didn’t hear or see the logic there.

“Well, I got lost, then I tried to find my way back to the Oratorium that I was in, but there are a lot of them here and I can’t remember which way I came from anymore. Then I remembered I can’t read, then maybe there must be something wrong with me, but I have half a Primarch brain, but what good does that do me? So then I thought about how a Primarch brain works and I started to wonder if it’s more like a giant filing cabinet with flying creatures that zoom around to find the thing they need, and that’s why they think so fast. I think.”

Lorgar: “...Primarch mind creatures.”   
Roboute: “Really glad Magnus isn’t here to see this.”

“That's… not how a brain or mind works.”

Damien shrugged, “I dunno, I have ideas, and I just kinda follow them and then before I know it, I think about weird things and then Sister Palicia gets mad at me.” He sighed over dramatically and sat next to Aegidius, then he immediately groaned as his head collided with the table with a loud  **thunk** . “...she’s gonna kill meeeheeheehee....”

Roboute: *Remembers his younger days* “That is… a possibility.”   
Horus: “Actually killing the child?”   
Roboute: “Oh no, making him wish that she actually  _ did _ kill him.”

“What’d ya do?” Asked Aegidius, looking up from his book, concerned about his cousin.

“I tried to learn how to read from her, but everytime she spoke or was doing it, I just… got distracted. Then when I get distracted, I day dream, and when I daydream I follow long thoughts and when I follow long thoughts, I get… what kind of milk flavourings can you add to milk?”

“Sooo… you get distracted very easily?”

“...wait! It was me needing to go pee and then I got lost, and then I got distracted  **then more lost** and now I’m here.”

“I can understand that I suppose… I did…  _ kill _ my teacher that was teaching me how to harness my Psychic powers by accident…”

Ferrus: “How do we respond to that?”   
Horus: “I don’t know, he just came out and said it. I don’t know how most people would react to having that just thrown out.”

Damien looked up from the table, a red spot forming on his nose and forehead from where he made an impact. “...What? What happened?”

“I… couldn’t focus so he got mad at me and pushed me and pushed and I… well, I snapped.”

Damien listened, then thought about what he would have done in that situation. He couldn’t recall ever being so mad he killed someone. “But… doesn’t that go against the law? Or how does that work? Were you even able to control it?”

“Well… it was an Eldar Farseer and it was kind of overlooked because of the situation and… that’s the scariest part… I wasn’t.”

“You couldn’t control it? Woah… That’s terrible.” Reminded him of how uncontrollable his own hunger and mind were. “I can kinda understand, to a point. But well, you control it now, right?”

“Well… kind of. I mean-”

“Lord Aegidius.” A deep voice startled the two kids who whipped their heads around to see a massive armoured Space Marine with a psychic hood.

“Epistolary Koranus.” Aegidius spoke up.

“Do try to keep the tone to a reasonable level. Need I remind you that this is a Librarium, not a common guards refectory. Men and Women are studying. If you need to engage in chit chat then please do so somewhere else.”

“Sorry, brother Koranus… I just… I just… umm…” He looked to Damien, a look of desperation on his face even as a thought came to his mind. “I’m just teaching Damien here to read!”

“You are?” Then he choked a bit when he felt a kick in his leg, “-uhhhh yeah! Totally. I am of the learning.”

Lorgar: “Of the…  _ learning… _ ”   
Roboute: “Now I am really glad that Magnus isn’t here.”

The Epistolary looked at them both with a  _ very  _ skeptical look on his face before slowly shaking his head and walking away.

“You know… I totally could teach you.”

“You could? Do you know enough about that? I mean…” Damien trailed off, thinking about how Sister Palicia was already losing patience with him.

“I have read through two-thirds of this library.”

Horus: ”I’m sorry but WHAT?”   
Roboute: “YES! THAT’S MY BOY!”   
Lorgar: “Really glad Leman isn’t here. Pretty sure he’d scream out about him being a… nerd.”

“Wait… how old are you again?”

“Eight.”

“How big is this library?”

“Biggest in the current Imperium.”

“WHAAAAAAA-” Damien almost let out a loud shriek, but for some reason, something stopped him, he could feel himself making the sound, but nothing came from him. Then he looked and saw the Aegidius had a hand up, making a pinching motion that somehow silenced him.

“Don’t make brother Koranus mad again please.” He whispered. “Reading is one of the few fun things I get to do…” Damien felt as if he could suddenly speak again even as Aegidius’ hand was lowered.

“That’s sad.”

“It’s fun! Look, stay here, I'll get a book to help us get started.” Aegidius got up and walked so smoothly he might as well have been on autopilot to a bookshelf before gesturing to a servo-skull which hovered up and picked up an absolutely  _ massive _ tome and gave it to Aegidius who then proceeded to stumble back to the table.

“I read this three years ago as some light reading.” He explained before he slammed the book down on the table, causing it to violently shake and almost crack in half.

Lorgar: “Roboute… are you sure Magnus hasn’t returned and become Aegidius’ adoptive father?”   
Roboute: “What? No! I quite enjoy reading, I just don’t openly boast about it as Magnus does.”   
Konrad: *Grumbling* “No one boasts about shit like Magnus…”   
Corvus: “Touche.”

Damien comically glanced from the book to Aegidius and back and forth a few times before just uttering out a single, “What.”

“Look, it’s simple! It gets progressively more complex and slowly transitions from Low to High Gothic.”

Damien looked at the book, attempting to read the title.

“G-guide for… for… speaker-speakers, of Low… Gothic to… High Gothic? I can’t read the first word.”

“Oh. Dummies.”

Horus: “Pfff.”   
Corvus: “Let’s be fair, we all needed to start somewhere.”   
Horus: “Father put the Encyclopedia Altum Gothica in front of me and told me to read.”   
Roboute: “Aaand that is why father won’t ever teach Aegidius how to read here.”   
Ferrus: “When?”   
Roboute: “Whenever he comes along here.”   
Ferrus: “I… don’t want to get into this argument.”

“What’s a dummy?”

“Well, that's a fun one! You see, it can be used in many ways. By definition, meaning, the first thing that comes to mind, it's a human-like thing often used for fighting or holding clothes! But it can also be used to insult someone. Like calling someone a dummy, meaning stupid in a gentler way.”

Aegidius trailed off as he realized that Damien stood up halfway through, miming the words out and figuring out how it worked. “Training dummy… Clothes dummy…” Then he stopped and pointed at himself, “Dummy.”

Konrad: “Wha- What is he doing!?”   
Lorgar: “I believe he is acting out the words.”   
Roboute: “That’s… that’s one way to tackle the problem…?”

“Well uhh… I guess.” Aegidius quickly looked left of the table and took a plastek flimsy along with a quill. “Here, try writing it down. Since its fresh in your mind, it should be easier! It’s how I learned new words.”

And that’s how the next hour went, with the two boys working together. Through the hour, Damien learned most of Low Gothic and actually got pretty far into High Gothic. In his own, weird way. Eventually, Aegidius just went along with it, the faces and poses Damien did were actually pretty entertaining. Plus, he had no shame. He did it all in front of scribes who were openly gawking at Damien’s…  **unique** way of tackling the problem.

They went through multiple books of examples and picts just so Damien could actually act out things better. The Epistolary from earlier even came to check up on them once, being pleasantly surprised that Aegidius actually was teaching his cousin to read and even write. He even smiled as he left, happy that his little gene-brother finally had a friend his age.

Roboute: *Dad pride blossoming*

The sun continued to rise and it was almost noon, causing massive shadows to appear in some less well-lit areas of the Librarium. Including the spot where Damien was sitting at.

He currently was acting out some unknown word, actually having fun with his cousin, when he felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. A shudder went through his body as a massive armoured hand came down onto his thin, bony shoulder.

“ _ There you are. _ ” A voice as ghostly and quiet as if whispered by a dying man spoke from behind him, causing both Damien and Aegidius to shudder in unison.

Damien slowly turned his head to look behind him, a massive marine in armor that was recently repainted into a very familiar color scheme. The dark blue, the bat wings, the menacing aura, the skull-like winged helmet. Oh yeah. Damien did the first thing that came to mind in the most eloquent way possible.

“Hi! I’m Damien!” He waved at the guy, smiling up at him.

“And I’m Vlad. Your Protector.” The Space Marine hissed. “Sister Palicia is very…  _ unhappy _ about you sneaking away  _ little brother, _ and so am I.”

Corvus: “So this is how Vlad was first introduced to him to Damien and Aegidius. What a Konrad way of doing it.”   
Konrad: *Grumbling reluctantly in agreement*   
Roboute: “I am personally surprised at just how nonchalant Damien is about the whole thing.”   
Lorgar: “Considering how meeting his father went for the first time, Vlad is like a kitten by comparison.”   
Roboute: “True, true.”

“Sneaking away?” Damien asked sincerely, confusion in his face. “I got lost then… Oh. I forgot to go back.” He nodded to himself, realizing how late he must be now.

“I'm going to take you back to her. You have…  _ a lot _ of catching up to do.”

“But-but ‘Gidius over there has been teaching me!”

The apparent Night Lord slowly turned to look at Aegidius, who very nervously gave a wave.

“I see… you can explain that to the Sister… as soon as she stops screaming from worry.”

“Worry? Sister Palicia was worried about me?”

“Worried? I thought she was going to start pulling out her pretty little silver locks one by one.”

“Oh… Oh that’s bad.” Damien agreed, as Vlad just picked him up with one arm, Damien wasn’t even bothered. This was the second time someone was carrying him like this, with arms and legs dangling down to the ground. He looked to Aegidius, waving, “Sorry, but I’m being kidnapped again. Talk to you at lunch?”

“Um... Sure, if you will be able to sit.”

Then his face went even paler, as he started to squirm in Vlad’s grip, remembering just what punishment Sister Palicia threatened to give him the last time he acted this badly, “NO! NO I DON’T WANNA!” He shook around, waving his arms and legs, to try and get away.

Roboute: *Winces* “Memories.”   
Horus: “Bad or good?”   
Roboute: “A mix of both…”

Vlad carried him away from the study table, walking towards the exit. Along the way, Damien saw Cato Sicarius heading in the opposite direction, most likely headed towards Aegidius.

Cato and Vlad meanwhile looked at each other. Sicarius looking between Vlad and Damien. Then the eyes of the two Marines caught each other. The eye lenses of Vlad’s helmet staring at Sicarius’ unphased eyes.

Then they both nodded in unison and walked towards their separate destinations, understanding each other more than both could possibly know at that moment.

They got just outside of the Librarium when Damien was finally able to slip out of Vlad’s looser grip and immediately climbed up the wall to the rafters before running off at what felt like the speed of light.

Almost like some spider who was returning to check on it’s newest prey. Vlad idly thought as he sighed, resigned to having to go find the little hellspawn as he sunk into the shadows.

Damien meanwhile managed to run what looked like half the palace in under a minute. He jumped down from the rafters, quickly rounding the corner before running headfirst into a wall of adamantium and ceramite, causing him to see little dancing bats around his head. He looked up wearily, seeing Vlad’s skull-faced mask staring back at him.

“Boy. I did not fight beside the Lord Commander for  _ two hundred years  _ in the Unnumbered sons and then as our fathers Equerry for a decade only to be stuck as a glorified babysitter of an ungrateful brat.” Vlad leaned down, poking Damien in the chest. “And I will be  _ damned  _ when the day dawns that you become capable of even  _ thinking _ you can get away from me.”

Corvus: “Hah! I remember meeting my sons for the first time. They were the only ones who could even remotely keep up with me! That was quite fun.”   
Roboute: “Trying to give the slip to a veteran Night Lord. Heh, Damien has a lot to learn.”   
Konrad: “He tried…”

And in Damien’s tiny little mind, he didn’t say it out loud, but now he wanted to try. As if accepting a challenge.

Vlad’s head tilted to the right in amusement at Damien’s shier stubbornness and will. “Go ahead. I know what you’re thinking.”

Damien looked up at Vlad, a grin slowly spreading across his face as he turned and bolted.

Only to once again, instantly run into a wall of adamantium head first.

Ferrus: *Winces* “That is going to leave a mark.”   
Lorgar: “Lesson learned I think, even if it is a blunt one.”

“Bolting in the opposite way is a  _ very _ bad option when you attempt to just flee like that in close quarters.

“Hoooowwww…” Moaned Damien from the ground, feeling the massive bump on his head already growing.

“I use the shadows.”

“But I do tooo…”

Vlad leaned down and picked up Damien, throwing him over his shoulders and beginning to walk away.

“You do. But there is one significant difference.”

“What is thaaattt…?”

“The Shadows fear me.”

Damien was quiet, only because he was looking up at Vlad with a worshipping gaze. He eventually said, “That is so cool.”

Vladimir didn’t bother responding.

“But you’re so edgy.”

Horus: *Cracking up at Damien’s antics*

Damien saw as Vlad’s helmet slowly turned toward him. The skull-like mask of his helmet staring into what felt like his soul, causing an in-advertent shudder to go through his body.

“Did I stutter?” He slowly spoke.

The young boy looked down, cheeks puffing up in embarrassment.

Roboute: “Ha! Konrad’s son indeed.”   
Lorgar: “Evident in both.”   
Konrad: “Can you shut up about it?”   
Roboute, Lorgar, Corvus, Horus: **“No.”**

…

Vlad continued to carry Damien in silence from then on until they finally reached what Damien saw was his room. Vlad opened the door to reveal a very… worried looking Sister Palicia.

She was pacing, running her hands furiously through her beautiful silver hair, apparently not hearing Vlad’s approach even though he was in full power armour.

Then she made a full circle in her pace and turned to finally see Damien being carried by Vlad, who apparently decided his duty was carried out for now as he promptly dropped the Primechild to his feet.

Horus: “Dropped like a sack of rocks.”   
Konrad: “Eh, he’s fine.”

Sister Palicia merely stared at him for a second, before making two massive leaps towards him. Damien instinctively closed his eyes, expecting to get that long-promised punishment.

Only to be extremely surprised when his governess pulled him into a hug. Causing him to blush as she continued to squeeze the life out of him. His nose all the while filling with the scent of her wonderful perfume.

“Thank the God Emperor you're alright!” She finally spoke, the voice somewhat mumbled for Damien by the fact that his face was currently buried in the stomach area of her dress. It was surprisingly hard. Weren’t stomachs meant to be squishy?

Kinda like that time he poked at some breads in the market, they were squishy. He liked poking at squishy things, kinda like that dead body he found that one time. He poked that with a stick. But you know, the market reminded him of something that happened to him when he was just a tiny boy.

He got squished there too, his mom hugged him so hard he almost squished like bread!

_ He had been distracted by something at one of the stalls, he swore it felt as if he was only gone from his mom’s side for a few seconds. It just smelled so delicious, his nose just led him away. _

_ He remembered how his mother cried so hard, feeling his face, his arms, everywhere, making sure he was alright. _

_ “Damien! You worried me so much, you were next to me, you were holding my skirt then next I…” His mother sobbed as she held onto him, his tiny body crushed between her arms and chest. Despite being as thin like him, she had a lot of strength in her. _

_ “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you. I love you so much, my little snuggle bat.” She kissed his head so many times, holding him close. It felt so nice to be in his mom’s arms. _

_ Then… _

_ He remembered what happened after. _

_ How much his mom then went red as she chewed him out in the market, how he couldn’t run off from her, she can’t find him as easily as others, how embarrassed she was to feel around for him… _

The family: *Not wanting to say anything, feeling as if they were intruding on a personal moment*

Oh no…

At that moment, Sister Palicia grabbed him by both of his shoulders and pushed him away from her. All the while maintaining her iron grip upon his shoulders even as she revealed her face again. Now the very definition of  _ fury. _

“What were you thinking!?”

“Bwuh?” He blinked up at Sister Palicia, wondering if she was as mad as his mom was when he wandered off. Wait, were they the same thing?

“The bathroom! It was  _ just _ the bathroom! As straight a line as you could go, but no! You just  _ had _ to run off and go be truant!”

Roboute: “Oh, now this is bringing up old memories… I should probably go send a hymnal after this.”

Oh! That’s what she is angry about. “Well, I got lost.” Might as well be truthful.

“Do not lie to me young man! One does not get ‘lost’ walking down a  _ straight corridor _ !”

“Well, you said it was on the left, so I went left, then when I got out, I went left. Then I kept going left and eventually, I got lost…”

Roboute: “THAT DOESN’T MAKE ANY SENSE.”   
Ferrus: “I’m still trying to figure out how he got that into his head.”   
Konrad: “I thought we all agreed he’s just crazy?”   
Lorgar: “Like fucking father, like fucking son.”   
Corvus: “Walked into that one…”

Damien heard what sounded like metal smacking on metal. Strange? Where could that have come from? And then he heard some guttural rumble. Like a machine starting up.

Sister Palicia looked away from him for a second. “This is not funny Captain!” She spoke to Vlad who was apparently still standing behind Damien.

Konrad: *Snort of laughter*

“Oh. Oh, it sure as all the Vampir Bats infesting Quirinius sure is.” The guttural rumble continued even as the Sister turned her attention back to Damien.

“You have a minute to explain how you managed to get lost before I make sure you won’t be able to sit down for the next  _ week _ .”

Damien audibly gulped and stuttered as he began recounting his story.

“Well, I got really lost and I remembered, ‘Oh wait! We were in the Oratorium! I’ll ask someone for directions!’ But well… Did you know there are 715 Oratoriums here in the Fortress? So that wasn’t helping. So I kept walking and tried to find my way back, then I ended up on the other side of the fortress and eventually I found myself in the Library of Ptolemy, which is really nice you should check it out at some point-”

The Governess did not appear to be impressed, in fact, one of her eyes developed an unhealthy twitch.

“-so THEN! I actually found ‘Gidius in the library and I kinda… forgot that I was lost-?”

The guttural sound behind Damien increased in volume, making it clear that the sound was in fact, laughter.

Konrad: *Genuinely cracks a grin*   
Horus: *Just dying of laughter at this point*   
Roboute: “Okay, okay… this is so surreal and so improbable, I can’t help but laugh…”

“-So I started sitting with him, and he kinda helped me with my reading. We were having a lot of fun, I actually learned a lot from him, which is weird cause it’s really hard to focus on something when I’m learning unless I’m moving around or doing something. So I was acting out words for him and it was really fun, a lot of scribes just kept giving me weird looks, but that’s okay because I always get weird looks. But jokes on them! I can read now.”

Sister Palicia blinked once, staring at him with a very surprised look frozen on her face.

“Wait? Did I do wrong?”

She blinked a few more times. “No… no uh… you actually did really good. If what you say is true, you speed up your schedule by… a few weeks at least.”

“Oh wow! This is the second time I did something good when making a huge mistake! First, it was breaking into the fortress, now it was getting horribly lost!”

The laughter behind them now escalated to a full on roar as Vlad bent over from his stomach hurting so much.

Konrad: “Pfffff-” *Holding back actual full blown laughter*   
Corvus: “Holy shit, Konrad’s actually laughing-!”   
Konrad: “No…” *Trails off, holding back laughter*

The Governess rubbed her temples with both of her hands. Massaging them delicately even as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

“Damien… this does not excuse-” A beeping sound from her datapad stopped her as she looked at it. “Oh, and you made it back  _ just _ in time for lunch.” She looked up at him, a suspicious look in her eyes.

“Wait, I get a second meal?” Damien asked, completely surprised.

The laughing behind Damien slowly ground to a halt.

“Second meal? Yes of course, you were supposed to have a snack as well, but you skipped that by running away.”

“But I didn’t mean to… wait… How many times do I get to eat?” His eyes were wide with wonder, slightly jumping in place from excitement.

“Five, if per schedule so far. Maybe more or less after you will be given a more in-depth exam by the proper biologicus adept.”

“YES!”A double fist pump, and now his mind was filled with all the things he was going to eat, wait, he doesn’t have a lot of things he knows about, so does that mean- “They’re not corpse dust rations, are they? I mean, I’ll eat them, but they kinda taste bad and I’ve been eating those for so long it’s…” He trailed off when he saw the looming figure of Vlad over him.

“Boy.” Spoke the deathly quiet voice of Vlad. “Why are you so excited over mere food?”

Damien blinked, then shrugged with a: “Because I’ve been eating corpse dust rations for all my life? I buy them with the money I made.”

“And why is that?” The Captain spoke for what sounded like a genuine interest for the first time ever.

“Cause I used to live right next to a moisture collector with my mom before she died two years ago.”

The Night Lord became as still as a statue, his helmets eye lense looking at Damien for a full ten seconds before he straightened back up. “I see.” He merely said, betraying no emotion.

Lorgar: “I am sensing some protectiveness and respect that Vlad thought he never was capable of.”   
Horus: “Well, we all can get protective of those we see as kindred spirits.”

Damien was suddenly pulled away as Sister Palicia held his hand. “Come along. Time for lunch. You will have plenty of time to get familiar with your protector later.”

“Isn’t Vlad joining us?” Damien asked, feeling slightly disappointed as he looked back at the Night Lord.

“No boy. This helmet does not come off unless I am only surrounded by my brothers.”

“But-but, I am your brother.”

“Not yet.” Whispered Vlad, just loud enough that Damien could hear him.

Roboute: “In time, little one.”   
Konrad: “I suppose.”

But before he could ask what Vlad meant, Sister Palicia managed to drag him out the door towards the dining room.

His nose was soon picking up the sweet smell of food, his mouth was already watering, wondering what he was gonna eat. Corpse dust rations didn’t  **ever** smell that good, so it must be something yummy again!

...though he hoped he wouldn’t cry again.

...

“Agh!” Damien let out a cry as he went tumbling off of the platform straight toward the ground meters below him in the special training room.

“UMPH!” He let out the noise as the air was knocked out of his lungs. Normally the gravity well projectors would mean you always landed on your feet. But apparently Vlad needed to “Make sure he was tough enough” and so lessened the gravitational field to the point where it unceremoniously dumped you from about a meter in the air.

“Again.” Came the now all too familiar voice of Vlad demanding he try the ever harder course from the beginning yet again.

_ 57 _ … he counted mentally as he once more took up position at the start and the floating gravitational platforms shifted into different positions.

He made a swift run for it, using the rougher wall to gain height before jumping to a platform before quickly dodging an incoming softened pole and instead of swinging off of it to the next platform. He continued to leap and dodge even as he climbed higher and higher towards the one way glass of the control room on the opposite end.

The door into it was his goal. His finishing line.

He jumped again, barely avoiding a pole launched even faster toward him.

He could practically  _ smell _ the finishing line.

He launched himself, leaping freely.

Only for a pole to smash into his back. Causing all of the air to leave his lungs as he plummeted towards the ground. Landing on his bottom with a massive thud even as he tried to breathe.

“Remember. In through the nose and out through the mouth.” Vlad’s stern voice over the vox caster reminded him as he struggled for breath.

Corvus: “Ah yes… I remember training like this in the mines back on Kiavahr. Wasn’t fun.”   
Konrad: “Nostramo was close. I learned by trial and error. By going from building to building. The heights were beyond what he’s falling from now.”

It took him a minute, but he finally got back up to his feet.

“Again.”

“Why? What’s the point if you hit me from the back?”

“The point, boy, is that you must realize the battlefield isn’t a training room. It is unfair. It is cruel. It is heartless. You must learn to foresee the unexpected, and you must learn to react to it. Here, you can learn to adapt the terrain to your will.”

“But I can’t foresee into the future, only the Night Haunter can do that.”

“You can look around dammit! Use all your senses! Your eyes are never to be fully trusted! Listen, smell, feel!”

“But-but I am! And I keep failing!”

“Good.”

“HOW!? How is that good!?”

“Because you learn. You are cocky boy. Far too much for your own good.”

“But if I fail, how can I ever learn?”

“With turning that failure into a lesson. Trust only in your senses and your brothers. Nothing else will serve you as well.”

Horus: “As much of an ass as he is being about it. He’s right.”   
Roboute: “True. Through failure, we gain vision and temper our ambitions while knowing our limits.”   
Konrad: “Spoken like a politician… but your not wrong.”

Damien puffed his cheeks, a full on pout as he tried to think about what Vlad told him. Which was easier than before, since he was so tired. All of the training was making it a lot easier to not mentally wander.

“Now, if your done  _ whining _ . Again.”

He did not whine! He was just bringing up some good points in his logic! All while still pouting.

“You’re angry now? Good. Now use that same anger to actually reach me this time.” Vlad taunted, causing Damien to fly off.

Fine! He’ll do it and he’ll make sure Vlad got a good handful of claw into his face! But not too hard, he doesn’t want to poke out his eye...

And true to form. He flew like a bird. More than twice his previous speed. He reached the jump from earlier, barely avoiding the pole hitting him in the back.

“Good.” Praised Vlad. “Now. Remember earlier.”

A cocky smile graced Damien as he made the final jump.

“War isn’t fair.” Spoke Vlad as suddenly, all the lights went out, plunging the entire training room into complete and total darkness. Making Damien stumble and go falling to the floor.

The boy just lied on the floor not moving as he wondered about how he was going to claw Vlad’s face off. And maybe take out an eye.

Lorgar: “Brutalistic. But it is effective.”   
Roboute: “Hmm, if Damien wasn’t as sweet and as cheerful as he is, I would be a bit worried.”   
Corvus: “As we can see, even Damien’s near constant positivity and cheer has its limits. He didn’t want to hurt Vlad that much, but as we can see here; now he does.”

…

“Again.” Demanded Vlad over the vox caster even as the door to the control room opened, revealing Sister Palicia even as the sound of Damien groaning reached their ears.

“This is not standard procedure.” Pointed out the Governess, one of her booted feet tapping irritatedly at the duracrete floor.

“No.” Vlad answered, flicking another pole at Damien, causing him to have to somersault mid-air to avoid it.

“Then why, might I ask, are you doing it?”

“Standard procedure.”

“Standard procedure for what? The boy is seven years old.”

“Indeed. The perfect age for recruitment.”

Roboute: “Are we sure this isn’t one of Rogal’s sons?”   
Horus: “Maybe…”   
Corvus: “Konrad usually is that hard hitting anyway.”   
Konrad: *Grumbling* “Fair point.”

They stood in silence for a few seconds, the only thing heard is the clicking of various buttons as Vlad controlled the Training room.

“It has been… confirmed then?”

“All but the final signature,” Vlad answered. “I will not have him so weak. He  _ will  _ cross the Rubicon.” Images and memories belonging to a far younger Vlad surfaced for a second. Ones of indescribable pain and mental conditioning even as that damned bastard of a Mechanicus adept that was Belisarius Cawl never stopped yammering on about how he was making them into  **heroes** .

_ Heroes… sure… fucking hero. Coming from the guy who killed most of the ones he had picked up from the streets of Terra so so long ago… promised greatness only to suffer through millennia of waking up to a scalpel cutting you open. _

Vlad snapped out of the memory. Crushing its meaning. They were insignificant now. He was here. That was in the past. He let it die long ago.

Roboute: “Ah… Damien’s destiny is to become a Space Marine... Just as we have seen in the past.”   
Horus: “And Vlad obviously doesn’t want him to suffer as much as he did.”   
Roboute: “I will never get over how much poor Felix had to suffer and then face Cawl about it.”   
Ferrus: “Such is the fate of augmentation. All of our sons suffer undergoing them.”   
Lorgar: “And as we saw earlier in the vids, Konrad is going to eventually train him himself.”   
Konrad: *shivers* “...I’m going to be alone with him for years…”

He came back just in time for Damien to stumble and go falling to the ground yet again.

“Again.” He voxed to Damien even as the Sister sighed behind him, making him unconsciously close an armoured fist. Coming back to a galaxy filled to the brim with fanatics worshipping a god who never wanted to be worshipped in the first place  _ sickened _ him to his core. But just like everything else he learned. Life wasn’t fair. And the Imperium was short on allies. Especially nowadays.

“What difficulty rating is he up to now?” Tenderly asked the Sister as they both watched a struggling Damien pull himself up to a platform.

“Not much.” Vlad lied through his teeth. If the kid was going to survive the procedures he needed to be much  _ much  _ tougher than this! He made it only because he was stubborn enough and had the will. The procedures killed the rest of his frien-

He crushed the memory in an instant. That Vlad died long ago.

Looking at Damien flying like a bird already, he supposed the Primarch genes helped as well. Just a tad.

“You are lying Captain.” Came a semi mechanical voice from behind the Palicia and Vlad.

Vlad himself cursed as he turned to face the expected tech adept. Continuing to swear under his breath that he allowed him to enter un-noticed.

“By analyzing the child's patterns. He is already beyond the levels of a typical neophyte by an excess of 37.3%.”

“You are wrong.” Vlad ground out.

“Do not doubt my calculations. The capability matrix was programmed by my master himself. And he does  _ not _ make mistakes.”

Turning to actually face the adept even as he caused Damien to fall again he looked him over.

He looked just like any other normal tech adept of the Mechanicus. That is, of course, all but the large number 94 etched into some adamantium plating on his side.

“Qvo. We meet again.” He spat out.

“I am Qvo-94. I have never met you before. You refer to an earlier clone of me. Qvo-25.”

“Same fucking meaning.” Vlad spat once again even as the adept bowed.

“For what it is worth, my master once more apologizes for all the pain and discomfort he put you through. But as my scans and tracking through your record reveal. It was well worth the pain.”

“Well worth? What do you call well worth!?” Vlad all but screamed at the tech adept.

“Rising to the rank of Captain from a mere battle-brother in only 174 years. Serving as the personal equerry to Lord Primarch Konrad Curze and being entrusted with guarding his own blood-offspring.”

Vlad felt like tearing the machine man apart. It’s not like Cawl didn’t keep spares.

Konrad: “I can understand that.”   
Lorgar: “You know it's bad when Konrad understands.”   
Konrad: “Frack you. I just know the feeling of someone annoying someone so much they want to kill them.”   
Horus: “...I can sympathize with that to be honest…”

He reached down for his sheathed lightning claws, preparing to attach them to his armoured gauntlets.

But then Sister Palicia stepped in front of him and introduced herself to Qvo.

Briefly, he wondered how much the kid would miss her.

Would it be worth it?

Hmm.

Yes.

He armed the claws-

“DID IT! HA! IN YOUR FACE!” His charge was suddenly jumping up at him, attempting to poke him into his eye lens futilely as he did not even truly reach his waist.

Now Vlad considered the emotional trauma.

Yeah… Konrad would kill him.

Not worth it… just  _ barely _ .

Damien, after realizing that he couldn’t reach his eyes from there, began to climb Vlad, angry that he couldn’t climb him like he did with duracrete. So old fashioned climbing it was. He grabbed ahold of one of Vlad’s jutting out knee cap armour spike and began to climb up.

Corvus: “... not the smartest kid.”   
Roboute: “Let’s not blame him for this. It’s just how he is.”   
Horus: “Kinda kooky, cheerful, not the sharpest knife, but definitely the most energetic. And he came from Konrad.”   
Konrad: *Muttering*

Vlad now looked down at him. Not even moving anything else other than his head and staring directly into Damien's eyes like the un-moving monolith that he was.

Damien, very wisely, decided to slowly climb down. He would poke out Vlad’s eyes at another time.

Konrad: “Good boy.”   
Horus: “Praising him for an attempted mauling?”   
Konrad: “Vengeance and justice.”   
Horus: “All Vlad did was irritate him.”   
Konrad: “Reason enough.”   
Horus: “I fucking swear, just as we get to know you…”   
Ferrus: “You’re surprised?”

“Ah. The boy.” The mechanical voice spoke in Damien's direction, Qvo apparently done talking to Palicia for now.

“Indeed.” Confirmed the Governess even as the Mechanicus adept walked toward Damien, crouching before him even as a blue light enveloped the Primechild.

“Interesting. Very interesting.” The adept murmured even as Damien kept looking back at him.

Damien just looked to Vlad and Palicia, not sure how to deal or act around the augmented… human? He just barely waved his hands toward Qvo, looking between them to him.

“I am to provide a full analysis of…” The adept paused for a second even as a whirring noise was heard. “...Damien, and report back to Fabricator General, Belisarius Cawl.”

“He has taken a personal interest?” The Governess inquired.

“Negative. It is by command of the Lord Commander himself that I was dispatched by my master.” The adept then offered a mechandrite with two pincers to Damien. “Come along young one. We shall be quick.”

Damien looked up to Sister Palicia, as if asking if it was alright for him to go. The governess gave him a small nod and an encouraging smile. He tenderly took the Mechandrite even as the pincers gently enclosed on his hand.

“Uhm… why?”

“Records show evidence of evasion. Merely a safety precaution.”

“What? But I didn’t mean to…” Another pout from him.

Horus: “Pffft, good security measure.”   
Roboute: “At least people can still learn…”

…

It was cooooold.

Why did a chirurgeon table have to be cooooold?

He supposed that not having any other item of clothing other than a sterile sheet covering his private parts at the moment contributed to it.

Then there was the noise.

Qvo had said that there needed to be this many… scanners did he say? What were they even scanning for? The nice medicae said he was completely healthy.

“Slight pinch,” Qvo spoke again even as one of his Mechandrites poked Damien's arm with a syringe, numbing the area as another mechadendrite took a tiny sample of his skin.

It was boring too. Climbing was frustrating, but it was fun too! Why did he have to do this? Couldn’t he go play with ‘Gidius again?

“We are finished young lord.” Spoke Qvo.

“Really!? Finally!” Damien exclaimed, getting up with the help of one of Qvo’s Mechandrites even as he was handed some parts of his clothes and…

“What is that?” He asked at the plastic covered tiny red thing.

“A sugar drop.” Replied Qvo’s mechanical voice.

“Ooooh… can I… can I have it?”

“Indeed. You have earned it for your good and proper behavior.”

Yeeeesssssssss… He popped it into his mouth as he redressed, savoring the sweet and tasty treat as he was kinda remembering how Palicia dressed him before. Kinda.

Lorgar: “Rewarding good behaviour with a sweet. Behaviour as old as time. Treating people like animals.”   
Ferrus: “But it works.”   
Konrad: “As long as it works and the kid stays quiet, I don’t care.”

He then walked out of the room, running into his aforementioned Governess who immediately straightened out his clothes even as Qvo came walking out.

“Remarkable results.” He spoke in a jovial voice. “My master will be most excited to hear that his development is hindered, but can be very easily healed.”

“That is fantastic news.” Sister Palicia spoke with a smile, holding onto Damien’s shoulder with one hand.

There was a printing noise as Qvo’s auto calligraphus quill scribbled something.

“Here are his dietary requirements. You are to drop any pre-portioned meals, his body shall adjust automatically. Allow the boy to eat as much as he needs to. Especially protein-heavy foods. And do not forget the supplements.”

Palicia scanned over the list. It was all pretty standard stuff, albeit sized up to mass quantities. That is until she got the supplements labeled SM class… “These stronger supplements. Are you sure they are safe?”

“Safe? No. Necessary? Yes. Damien’s body must be sped up. His entire system must grow if it is to accommodate its full potential.”

Ferrus: *Eyebrows raise* “The child certainly has potential.”   
Lorgar: “Really wish Mortarion was here so he could give a more in-depth view on all of this.”   
Horus: “He can only go so far since he doesn’t have their full actual medical records.”

And of course, all Damien got out of that was…

“I get to eat more!? Wow!” Complete with happy little pants as he squirmed in excitement. He just loved food so much…

Ferrus: “Of course that’s what he latches onto.”   
Roboute: “He was an Orphan literally yesterday! Let’s lay off of him there.”   
Ferrus: “But I’m not making fun of him? I’m just pointing out how it’s kinda funny that out of everything, he latches onto food.”   
Roboute: “...oh. Nevermind.”

Sister Palicia began to lecture him even as Qvo excused himself, citing the need to report his findings to his master.

Outside the door, he ran into his secondary objective, however.

“Ah, Lord Kurze.” Qvo stopped before the Primarch, who was busy looking at his… the child from a distance.

“Report. What did you find out about the kid?”

“Of course my Lord. The blood relation is now completely confirmed. He has inherited much of your impressive genome. But appears to have developed mutations that further his aspects of silent movement.”

Konrad nodded. His facial expression never changing. All while Damien had a feeling that everything was completely secure in the family department.

“If he continues on the same course. I suspect he may one day very well be one of the best fighters of your chapter.”

Konrad looked away, not doubting that sadly. While his son doubted that immensely.

“Even though, he fights best from the shadows.”

The Night Haunter turned to the adept.

“Indeed?”

“Yes. My scans showed his adaptability to the dark is most impressive. Likely due to his ability for silent movement and extremely strong musculature. An inherited trait he has received from you, my Lord. He can climb walls as easy as if he were a lizard. The bones in his hands and feet are looking to be tougher than most of his others, analysis confirms denser calcium formations, looking to only get stronger as he recovers and grows to his full potential.”

Roboute: “Kid is tough like a bag of nails. I suppose this explains why.”   
Ferrus: “Kind of like Freya and her jaw of steel?”   
Roboute: “Yes, exactly. I have been wondering what is different about Aegidius compared to the rest of the Primechildren.”   
Corvus: “In time, I’m sure we can find vids that detail more about that. But for now, let's get back to Damien.”

Konrad did see his s… the boy flex his hands open and closed, making climbing motions with a look on his face that he was most likely in another world. He  **had** to break him out of that habit… “Good… I suppose…” Konrad answered, still not really sure how he was supposed to feel about having an actual son. “What about… the other inquiries?”

“Of course my Lord. By my current analysis. The boy has an 83.7% chance of successfully crossing the Rubicon Primaris. These changes might increase or decrease once I confirm them with my master. I can say with the accuracy of 98.3% that his chances of success will increase nominally with age, physical and psychological conditioning."

Roboute: “I wonder if it’s because he’s the blood child of a Primarch?”   
Horus: “Noooo…”   
Lorgar: “It’s way too late, or early for me to diss you about that.”

Konrad let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

A son in both ways…

“If that is all sir? I am required on Konor.”

Konrad waved an idle hand and the adept walked off.

The Governess appeared to be scolding Damien over something again. Konrad didn’t care to listen about what as he walked off.

He was secure. He was happy. He had a future. That was all he cared about. Now he could finally get back to the front-

“DAD!” Came a boyish squeal as Konrad suddenly realized his back had acquired a limpet.

Konrad: “Oh fuck-”

“I MISSED YOU SO SO SOOOOO MUCH! WHERE DID YOU GO? Why did you go actually? Why do you need to go? Are you going again? Can I come with you? Do I need to pack-”

Okay… maybe getting rid of the kid would be harder than he thought.

The holovid finally clicked empty.

Konrad groaned loudly. “Fucking finally… why did I think putting myself through that was a good idea?”

“Probably because we all bonded together and had a chance to let you come out of your shell, even just a little bit?” Roboute supplied, shrugging.

“Yeah… yeah, whatever.” Konrad grumbled under his breath, not wanting to agree. “I’m tired enough. I’m going to bed.”

“You? To bed? You still have your armour on.” Lorgar pointed out.

“I can take it off! I’m done! I have… thinking to do.” Then he walked off, leaving his brothers behind. The rest of the brothers wisely let him be, Konrad needs time alone, and with how far they have come with him they will respect that.

As Konrad made his way through the deserted and slightly cold halls of the palace, the central heating for the corridors and hallways having long since been switched off. On the way to his apartments one of the old wooden chronometers chimed 1 am. Meaning that, since breakfast was only at 8.00, he had a lot of time to sleep. It was surprising to him that he was actually looking forward to it for the first time in… well… ever.

Coming out of his shell and making sure that Damien was in good hands was a surprisingly big relief.

He rounded the corner into the Primarch’s personal family wing and instantly entered his apartments through the two golden doors marked VIII, his name artistically inscribed next to the number.

When he was finally alone in his own apartments, he let out the breath he didn’t really care to know he was holding. Watching the vid about Damien was… enlightening. And dare he admit it, he did get to learn about not just him, but bond…

This was stupid. Damien won’t even be born in this new present timeline. He shouldn’t get attached, it would just be easier that way. He wouldn’t have to feel anything for the boy, either positive or negative. The boy would just be a faraway thought, he wouldn't even register in his mind. He does not and will not exist...

So why does he feel so cold and hollow about that?

He could just go to bed, not think about how happy he was to see him, or how Damien looked and acted so much like him, how the two of them have so much in common or… Or any of it…

Just thinking of him as his… his son… That was enough to cause him to panic. It was only a matter of time before Damien would see that his father wasn’t someone to look up to, wasn’t someone who deserved any type of acceptance or love. Damien would one day see that being related to Konrad Curze was no blessing, but a damned curse!

No matter how positive and cheerful and loving Damien was as a person, there was no possible way he could look past everything Konrad did in the past, present and future.

It’s a terrible idea to get used to him. It’s a terrible idea to get attached.

Even as his auto-reliquary stripped off his armour, and he crashed onto his bed, letting himself become a massive cocoon of blankets, shutting everything out, he couldn’t help but imagine a little boy who would giggle at him and call him a bat cocoon. And probably would talk his ear off into the wee hours of the morning with an insane amount of questions.

Damned kid.


	25. Meanwhile 4: In which we see a reunion

…

001.M31 - REDACTED

...

Charming the guards at the main outpost of Molech was mere child’s play when compared to seducing her husband. All she had to do was do a hair flip, bat her eyes, place a hand on their chests and pout in just the right way. It was a miracle what being a soldier on a remote outpost with nothing to do did to a person's mind.

They seriously let her on without much fuss afterwards. If this was the best that was sent to protect the planet, then she had some very choice words for her husband and how much of an idiot he was.

Well… less words, more beating him with a marble pillar.

From there it was charting a ship going in the right direction after watching the full broadcast from earlier. From what she gathered from the broadcast, the Emperor was on Earth and currently spending time with his…  _ family _ .

Charting a ship heading to Earth while the Emperor was staying there? That was tricky. The security was heightened and someone quite clearly knew of her existence, if the shadows that followed her were anything to go by.

Luckily enough, baseline evasion tactics didn’t change that much since last she had to use them. Combined with some psychic trickery, she always managed to stay a step or two ahead of her pursuers, whoever they were, as it appeared they were just as good at dodging her own follows.

Eventually, she had managed to find a military transport headed for Earth, or Terra as everyone called it for some stupid latinized reason, disguised as an officers aide. 

In a ship carrying countless thousands, of which there were dozens upon dozens of minor and major aides, no one noticed an extra one slipping in. Lazy military personnel were still the easiest to slip by, thank the stars for that.

From then on, it was only waiting. The amount of traffic going to Terra was massive, matched only by the height of mankind's technological age. 

Sadly, it meant it was just as slow if not even slower than before…

By the time they had arrived at the edge of what was known as Segmentum Solar, news had come along of the Emperor having appeared in what was known as the Badab Sector… the exact opposite way of where they were going.

That involved sneaking off at the next stop, snooping around even longer for yet another ship heading in that direction, not finding any, and having to sneak aboard one as a stowaway.

This one stopped just shy of the system they were supposed to enter. That in itself was strange since she was sure that according to the manifest they had goods aboard meant for Salutis, the planet where her husband was.

But the entire system was cordoned off. Astartes and above levels of authorization codes required…

That… threw a wrench in her plans. She heard after she had managed to sneak off of the ship and into a local watering hole on the planet they had landed on that the restriction was to be lifted eventually, but the thought of having to wait longer and work as what felt like a tavern wench for who knew how long did not play well in her mind.

That left her with two options.

One, somehow sneaking onto a ship carrying a General or politician of the Imperial Army or above and praying to whatever crappy god or gods existed that security tighter than anything in this so called Imperium would not find her.

Or two… get by Astartes.

Now, she had never even so much as seen a Space Marine outside of the propaganda on holovision and she made a point of staying out of the more fortified areas on Molech. But if what she had heard about them, they would not be nearly as easy to get by nor trick as the soldiers were. 

That is unless… they got sloppy.

Every soldier she had ever known in her very  _ very  _ long life got sloppy at one point or another, and as far as she was concerned, this system looked like glorified guard duty so far.

Better yet, the Astartes ships used regular old humans to load the cargo they came to pick up.

That night, she discarded the clothes of the officer's aide. She really  _ really  _ needed a shower. The money she had made on Molech was quickly used up because it turns out she wasn’t getting paid much in the first place and Molech was in the middle of nowhere with no economy in the first place.

Luckily enough, the clothes from the spaceport workers that she had managed to steal smelled fresh… mostly.

It was all in place, however, and soon none of that would matter. She would see her stupid idiot of a husband soon enough, and if the idiot had any sense left in him, a foul smelling wife would be the least of his worries at that moment.

She hung back in the shadows, away from the lumens of the loading bay of the spaceport and watched as the cargo shuttles came down, marked with some strange imagery of a hydra and the number twenty in roman numerals.

Not caring much, she moved away from her spot and towards the pallet jack as soon as the foreman called them up, picking up crates clearly marked for the transport and moving them towards the cargo shuttle.

Its ramp began to drop and revealed… well… if there was a human behind that armour it sure as shit had to be the size of a WWE wrestler on all the steroids in the damn galaxy. She was sure they reached the same size of the Men of Iron back during the Golden Age, which was a feat in and of itself.

Ducking her head from their sights, she focused on her work and made herself seem as insignificant as possible. Don’t catch anyone’s eye, don’t look suspicious and do your work. Easy peasy.

The instant she knew she was going to have a bad time was when she was pulled on the shoulder by one of the giant men, dragged away from the pallet and brought to the group of four Marines.

“Looking to sell some scraps? You should know by now that nothing escapes our attention.” One of the Marines accused her.

“P-Pardon?” She whimpered out, playing the meek, soft girl who would never do anything wrong.

“Those bolt shells may be cheap, but I’m sure they would surpass a dock worker's pay.” The lead Marine nodded to the other two who dug their hands into her pockets and pulled out the shells, much to her surprise. She hadn’t-

“Found them, sir.” The two Marines showed their leader the shells. “What shall we do with the thief?”

Great. She manages to smuggle herself out of Molech, almost get on Terra of all places, sneak past armed guards and flirt her way out of hairy situations, but now she was going to be undone by some giant meatheads wearing can armour? She looked to each Marine and had to admit to herself that none of her tricks were going to work on these guys. The armour and lack of emotions made them impossible to read, much less manipulate.

And she also knew there wasn’t anything she could do physically to fight them. She just hoped they didn’t throw her out the airlock… it would take forever to get back on a ship after that.

“According to the Lex, she shall stand trial and be given a just sentence. We shall keep her in holding until said trial.” The lead Marine nodded to his brothers who each took one of her arms.

Nearby, the foreman quickly made his way to the group, bowing his head as he did so. “My Lords-” He nearly stammered. “What appears to be the issue?”

“One of your workers has attempted theft of Legion property, Foreman.” One of the Marines informed the man, who’s eyes immediately went wide with worry.

“My-my Lord.” The man squeaked. “I assure you, I personally shall see to her punish-”

He was stopped by the Marine holding out a hand in front of his face. “Her actions are beyond your jurisdiction now. It has become a Legion matter, we shall take over all procedures from here on.”

_ Well _ . There went her chances of sneaking out of a regular court. And if the Marine court was as bad as the Marines were, then she wasn’t getting out any time soon.

The Foreman quickly bowed his head and simply backed off, motioning for his workers to finish as soon as they could even as the Marines roughly escorted Alivia out of the main cargo bay and into the cockpit where, out of view from everyone else, they immediately sat her down… far more gently than she thought they would…

They also conspicuously managed to forget to restrain her. Perhaps they thought she wouldn’t take the chances of running?

True, she had nowhere to run to really seeming as the shuttle took off almost immediately and headed for orbit...

Not being able to bear the silence and knowing she could survive anything they did to her, she continued to play her part. “I… I just… Look, I needed to take them. Rent has been going up and-”

“No it has not.”

“Well, you’d think that- but really. When the Emperor moves in next door practically, property values tend to skyrocket and well… rent goes up as well. Nothing a regular dock worker can afford anymore…”

“Amusing answer.”

Oh come on! Are these guys just sentient statues? She’s going along with their- this all started because she took some bolt shells! Wait… No. No she didn’t take bolt shells!

“Okay fine, it’s not about rent. But it is important! I need to find my… friends. They’re really important and if you ever happen to know who they are, you’d feel really silly right now.”

The Marine didn’t pay her any attention, instead pulling his bolter out and retrieving the clip. Right before her eyes, the two Marines who fished her pockets refilled the clip to full capacity before he slammed the clip back inside. They then went back to standing and ignoring her.

“...ah.” She sighed heavily, running through any idea that popped up in her mind. Okay, they planted the shells on her, she could not manipulate them and wouldn’t be able to get a good read on their emotions, so her psychic abilities were basically useless here unless she wanted to vent them all into space… She has no idea where the transport was going and now that she thought about it, there is a very good chance that their Emperor might just happen to look like her husband but not actually be him.

But then again, no one in the galaxy had hair like that and wore and loved gold that much. And the entire Imperium was just a weird space version of Rome, which happened to be his favourite time period… Aside from the 1950s and the Silver Age, ironically. She remembered he was a big fan of Kaiser Reinhardt during that time. Not to mention the Victorian era and the Gothic architecture...

The Marine piloting the vessel reached up, pressing a few runes and turning a few knobs, a few silent muted clicks coming from his helmet, whatever was their goal, it was close.

Soon, a massive shadow overtook the cockpit, and she leaned as forward as she could from her chair in an attempt to get a better look, being able to see the outline of something massive… 

Whatever Warship they were taking her on was very likely far far bigger than even the standard Astartes ones… just her luck, out of the frying pan and smack dab straight into a fucking vulcano.

Great. Just great. She was going to be stuck on one of those ugly as shit city large ships and having to deal with these emotionally redundant tin cans! Her day couldn’t possibly get any worse...

That is, until something inexplicably crazy happened.

One moment, she is planning her escape and wondering what her next move was , and then the next there is a wave of golden, blinding light passing by the ship, the transport and over the occupants of the transport.

Only one person had that power, and now her angered grumbling turned to sheer panic.

What happened to him!? What’s wrong with her husband!?

As soon as it appeared, it was gone, leaving any who happened to look at it or touch the wave of power rejuvenated and revitalized. Except for her, where she was ready to take over the transport and start flying to him as soon as humanly possible.

Well… she grumbled to herself, she would if that pilot wasn’t hooked in via a neural interface or something like that and if even a single one of those bolt shells wouldn’t make her die and likely wake up in an incinerator or something.

“Do none of you care about that?” She asked, unable to help herself.

“What?” One of the giants asked, his tone showing that he did not at all care nor know what she was talking about.

“I-” She reached out, realizing that none of them were even so much as slightly psychic. “Ugh… can I get a break?”

They didn’t grace her with an answer, instead choosing to focus on their landing into the hangar of the massive ship. 

She gulped, hoping that they wouldn’t just throw her into a cell for who knew how long and delay her escape for who knew how much longer and then her husband would go somewhere else and… yeah, not a fun string of thoughts.

Before she could come up with another plan, they grabbed her, pulling her out of the seat, even more gently than before… what were they playing at?

They escorted her down the ramp and into the massive hangar, pushing her along the surprisingly ornate ship and down a corridor, further up of the ship, pushing her gently through a door which closed behind her.

The room she found herself was big, highly decorated with battle trophies and suits of massive power armour, even bigger than those that were meant for Astartes, outside of the viewports she spotted the planet that she was on just moments ago along with the blinking stars in the sea of darkness.

“It is good to finally meet you.” 

Startled, she turned towards another viewport, seeing what looked like a slightly taller Marine standing in full armour.

“I am unsure if I feel the same.” No point in acting the damsel. She is in enemy territory with only herself to look after. They wanted her here for some reason and she wasn’t going to reveal anything if she could help it. “What do you want from me.”

“Nothing.” The giant quickly responded. “The goal was to find you, the hunt was the fun.”

“You wanted to find me? For what purpose? I am no one of note.”

“On contraire.” Another voice said from behind her.

Holding onto her composure, she didn’t react to the second voice. “Oh? Then please, enlighten me on what you supposedly know of me.”

“You have traveled an interesting path.” The first answered, even as the second took over. “Molech, Imperial Army transport 93516-B class disguised as an officer's aide, and from there towards where they lost your tail.” 

“The agents were yours then.”

“No.”

“We merely take-”

“-an interest-”

“-in certain-”

“-individuals.”

She nodded at their antics, choosing to listen to what little they were saying. She knew she had been followed for a while now, she was still somewhere where she was not sure on whether or not it was safe and now she had to get to her husband as fast as possible. If those Marines were anything to go by, then it could be true that these larger Marines are the same. They most likely do not understand what happened...

“So, what is your plan from here? You have me. Am I to assume torture, or a nice spaceport dinner? The ball is in your court, after all.”

“This is beyond-”

“-politics-”

“-yet-”

“-just as messy.” The one behind her had a smile in his voice, making her feel uneasy.

“So torture is out then, I suppose? If that’s the case, then I expect a nice dinner out of this then. I am guessing I’m a guest then?”

“We are afraid-”

“-that our family dinners-”

“-are terrible.”

“Ah, you don’t have a plan do you? Well, not one that can be executed unless you stall for time. Why else would you be throwing more information out at me?”

“Blackmail-”

“-of course.”

“Blackmail?” She chuckled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Whoever do you want blackmail for? I assure you, it does not come cheap.”

“Considering-”

“-your hatred towards father-”

“-at the moment-”

“-you will probably give it-”

“-for free.”

Ah. Him. Them. The air and ground around her grew cold as she stood before the two men. Of course, of course it had to be them. It had to be the bastard children He had during His time away from her. Her face showed her internal thoughts quite easily, as she cared little about hiding them. “I am willing to share some.”

“We are not blind-”

“-to your spite.”

The one behind her walked ahead of her, joining his brother.

Once together, they both reached up and simultaneously removed their helmets even as they both began to speak at the same time. “We are number twenty. Alpharius Omegon.”

“Alivia. Alivia Sureka.” She nodded to them, “Now ask your questions. I don’t have much patience anymore.”

They both smiled, pulling out a chair behind their desk and sitting even as they motioned towards the chair on the other end. “He has not spoken much of you-” One of the two began. “-mention of you brings him pain.”

“Good. It should.” She sat with too much force, the sound of her motion echoing through the room. Worry over him, anger over him, both were confusingly meddled together at the moment.

“Why-” One began. “-is that?” The other finished.

“Too long of a story to explain in one sitting.” She shrugged, “so I’ll condense it into one sentence. He abandoned me. Satisfied?”

“Partially.” They both answered. 

Groaning, she crosses a leg over the other. “Is there a point to this? Are you going to take me to him? You are his creations, afterall.”

“Of course.” They both smiled.

“But perhaps-” The left one began.

“-you first wish to take-”

“-a shower?”

“I’d love a shower. But I’d also like to beat your Father’s pretty little face in. I assume I’m only getting one of those things.”

They both nodded, showing they understood even as they stood, before allowing a mischievous grin to grow on their faces.

“He does not-”

“-expect you.”

She smiled a wide, devilish grin. “Good. I find I’d love to have a shower and something to eat on Salutis, if you wouldn’t mind? I hear the hotel prices are quite good down there.”

They both raised their hands at the same time. “That is Rogal’s area.”

“Who is Rogal?”

They had a lot of filling in to do.

...

Well, at least dinner was not nearly as bad as lunch was. With Fulgrim and Rhea taking their dinner elsewhere, the dining room had been quite pleasant. Especially with His favorite granddaughter sitting with Him at the head of the table once more.

It had certainly been a long time since He could sit around and act silly with not a care in the world. The Emperor got to entertain Rosie in His study, ignored Malcador’s pleas for work and was able to successfully get Rosie to eat her veggies without most of them ending up on the floor. All in all, a great success!

How that little girl got those table manners, He could guess.

Once she was in the arms of one of her nannies, did He have the chance to relax. As much as the Emperor loved being a grandfather, He had much to think about in regards to family.

Fulgrim and Rhea for a start. From what he had heard, they had at the very least began to make the first step, or at the very least, start anew with their relationship which was of course very very good news, all in all, great success again!

There was also the barrage of requests to meet with Him from many of His sons. Once Izanagi broke his vow of silence at lunch, suddenly He had all the other boys coming in and sending requests to demand answers. He was sure to quickly dodge all of those and see about Izanagi upholding his vow of silence. Thankfully, it was easy to tell him apart from the rest of the Custodes and even better; he didn’t need to see his son about upholding his vow. Yet another success!

Though Izanagi was intent on hiding himself even harder now and since he helped build the place and also had access to other sets of armour made it a bit harder to find him… ah well, it would sort itself out eventually!

He walked down the corridor, the thoughts going through His head as He hummed a tune meant just for himself as Constantin escorted Him, giving Him a briefing on what had occurred throughout the Imperium, chief of which was the Adminstratum’s Propaganda department going nuts over some footage which they apparently spent half of the emergency Imperial Treasury getting.

But whatever was the case, Malcador was apparently perfectly capable of controlling the Imperium from afar, and anything that needed the Emperor’s own personal touch was relatively easy to do as well. Especially since mobilizing most of the generals in the Imperial Army along with all the ruling Lords to come to Salutis had put a massive damper on the amount of paperwork and micromanaging they required.

He let out an involuntary yawn and waved away Constantin’s concern for His health, ensuring the Custodes that it was only the fact that He was tired from a long day of tending to family.

Constantin of course promptly then recommended sleep which He happily accepted, walking into his personal apartments without so much as second thought as the doors slammed shut behind him. He snapped off his cape, unshoed His boots by the foot of His bed and flopped down on the soft flannel bedspread, not even bothering to get below the covers, even if it was getting surprisingly cool outside. 

The planet was supposedly getting back into its natural cycle, and considering it was supposed to be more or less in tune with Terra’s own, it should be on the colder side, snowier too come to think of it…

Ah… those were semantics in the end. Frosting on top of an already delicious cake, He could worry about them another time, right now the bed was proving comfortable and its soft touch almost as alluring as hers was…

_ Her lying in bed, the white sheet the only thing covering her body, hair tousled up as she looked up at him. She had a smile on her face as she lounged beside him, the salty ocean air flowing into their room in the soft morning light. They didn’t want to get up from their comfortable spots. _

Oh… He had not thought of her in that way in a while… what had brought that thought up? 

It was true that He missed sleeping and awaking next to her, missed her scent, and of course her psychic presence. He missed being able to speak to her, their bond allowing them the gift of conversation no matter how far they were... Two psykers sharing a bond could be a wonderful thing, especially when they matched so well…

_ Her hands were tugging on his, leading him down a forested path as she excitedly talked to him about the wonders of this place. She was telling him all about the local legends of the forest and what some people believed they saw in this dark area. Assurance that they were going to deal with it and have some fun along the way, excited to see where she led him to next... _

Maybe… just maybe one of these days He could finally retrieve her from Molech. There were many other guardians who could take her place in this far more stable galaxy…

He turned himself around, placing His head on one of the massive pillows and letting out a sigh, almost feeling as if He could reach out and touch her… the longing had not been this strong in millennia… perhaps it was His conscience acting up? Or the meeting with His family...

_ He promised him that he would always look after her. Sharing a drink with a man wise beyond his years, the face of another who would show up on his own grandchild. Gaining the blessing of one who understood just a fraction of what and who He was. The acceptance was staggering. _

And just as He began to slip into a gentle sleep, He thought that perhaps she was there, that gentle presence of her’s brushing against His mind, reminding Him of fonder times.

The times He proposed, of when she had been the one chasing Him, of their adventures.

The time He left her on Molech, promising she would be safe and-

Wait? Where did that thought come from? He must already be dreaming… yes, dreaming of how He had promised her safety and her not having to hitchhike back to-

What? What… what was happening to His dream? It was almost as if someone was manipulating it? That all too gentle touch...

No… if He were to have her retrieved, it would be with all due dignity, not slipping out on a military transport, only to be caught by Space Marines and-

“Alivia!” He shouted, His torso lifting His now sweat covered body as He looked around, finding nobody in the darkened room. A nightmare? A dream? What? No, manipulation.

Was it the Great Enemy? Were they trying to play games with his mind, exploiting his weakness? Make him believe she was in danger? Calling him back to that infernal portal...

No. They had no reach here. His son shielded them all. No presence of theirs could ever manifest…

Sighing, He allowed himself to lie back down, forcing the sweat to disappear even as He tried to get comfortable, forcing Himself to begin a new dream, one where she lied right next to him, caressing His face as He lulled to sleep and made the psychic connection to the  _ burning active volcano that was Alivia- _

“ _ Wake the fuck up you lying, assholish, stuck up bastard. _ ”

His eyes snapped open, looking straight into the striking pair of blue orbs, framed by a very angry and very much familiar looking face.

“Alivia?” He whispered, blinking before frowning and reaching out. “What is it with my mind today?” He openly asked, reaching for where her arm should be, expecting to find nothing, only to find a very familiar feeling of smooth skin underneath- “Alivia!?” He shouted in surprise, His eyes going impossibly wide.

She looked the same as she did when He last saw her. Not a single blonde strand was missing, those angry blue eyes still the same endless oceans that He gladly drowned in, the same raised arm and open palm-

_ SLAP! _

He was shocked barely feeling the impact, yet his hand still raised to his barely stinging cheek where she struck him.

“How dare you.” She ground out with barely contained fury, small objects in his room shaking ever so slightly as a layer of ice was forming on his bed. “How  _ dare _ you. I spend my entire life by your side, do everything you ask of me and more- and this is how you repay me!? By forgetting about me and leaving me on a fucking world in the middle of nowhere!?”

The Emperor only continued to stare, the shock nearly overwhelming Him even as He barely mustered enough resolve to push away the forming psychic hoarfrost.

“Alivia?” He asked again, unable to believe His own eyes and feeling as she stood on the bed and began stomping on His chest with a dainty little foot in comparison to how massive He was at the moment.

“Yes, you fucking jackass!” She shouted, over his oofs and grunts even as she kept on stomping, knowing that she was doing no real damage. “Did you think making yourself nearly twice as tall as you normally are would disguise you from me? Huh!? You fucking lying bastard!”

“L-Liv calm down- I can explain-”

“Explain?” She laughed, stomping harder and leaving being more hoarfrost where she stomped. “ _ Explain?  _ How about you start with the whole ‘Oh look at me I’m remaking Rome in Space and I’m gonna be an Emperor even though I hate leading people’ or how about we start with you having a family without me!?” She stepped back and raised her foot right above the Emperor’s gold factory.

Only to have her foot deflected by a psychic blow, making her twist and fall facedown on the bed, looking up at Him with angry eyes as He immediately threw himself over her, hands pinning down her own. “Slow down! Remember about what we said about hitting me there!?”

“I didn’t hear you say the safe word! So fuck you!” She thrashed in his grasp, kicking his legs and trying to free her hands. “Let me go or I throw you across the room!”

“Alivia- no-!”

A psychic blast sent him flying back from the bed and into a very well crafted display cabinet. He crashed right into it, cracking his back and leaving the thing unharmed. Damn Rogal and his supremely made crafts...

The doors to His apartments slammed open and in ran the two Companions on guard duty, immediately spying their Emperor on the floor.

“Sire, are you alright?”

They looked to the left, spotting Alivia and raising their Guardian Spears-

“No! Stop!” He commanded. “I am perfectly fine-” He dodged a flying vase as the last second, smashing on the wall behind him.

“Uhm-” One of the Custodes emitted an unknown sound even as the Emperor dodged another chair.

“She’s my wife!” He explained to the still stunned Custodes, reaching out with His psychic powers and pushing them out of the door. “Stay there, and let no one come in!” He commanded as the doors slammed shut and He just barely dodged a table that bounced off of the wall, both completely unscathed.

“-of all the lying, selfish, stupid pricks in the galaxy, why the hell did I marry you!? You inconsiderate jerk!” She quickly noticed she was running out of objects to throw at him and quickly began taking her boots off. “Five thousand years! Five. Thousand. Years! I spent on that god forsaken rock, doing what you asked me to do- which for that matter- wasn’t asked! You left me there with no choice you selfish-” She got one boot off and threw it at him, angry that He dodged it and it landed in a nearby fireplace.

He glanced from her to the boot. “I- That’s a very curious case of deja vu.”

“Oh! Let me remind you again!” She got her second boot off and threw it at him, angry that he redirected it into the fireplace.

“What is with people in this family and burning shoewear!?” He groaned then had to dodge an onslaught of angry ice spikes being sent his way. “For fucks- Alivia will you calm down!?”

“Family!?” She picked up a nearby helmet and chucked it right at his stupid, perfect face.

“Ow! Fuck- Where did you get a helmet from!?”

“ _ Family!?  _ **_Family!?_ ** Ohhh hohoho I have so many horrible words for you about the subject of  _ family _ ! You knew how I felt, you knew what I wanted, and look what happened! You disregarded everything you ever said to me about  _ family _ and went behind my back and made one for yourself! What happened to ‘Alivia, we can’t have children, they’ll turn into uncontrollable monsters who have too much power’! But what did you do!? You made them! You have a family without me, made them into super powered beings beyond comprehension! And how about the slut you probably used to make them with, huh!? Where is she!?” She stopped, then got even redder in the face and switched from ice to fire and started chucking fireballs at him. “Was it Erda!? Did you go crawling back to fucking Erda!? I swear, if you went to her-”

“No-no-no!” He attempted to reassure her in turn, trying to get her to stop, only for her to dodge all the way to the other side of the room. “I didn’t use her, at all, look she’s crazy, you know that and- wait, how did you even get in here without the Custodes knowing?”

“Being very fucking slow today aren’t we!?” She screamed at Him, making him flinch, bad choice of words. “Family! That’s how!”

“What-” His mind flashed for just a second. “Oh, those two bastards-”

“Who did they get that from, huh?! Who else lies, cheats and does it all for the sake of something greater or just blackmail!” She was leaving countless scorch marks on his walls and floors, some still smoked or had small flames burning where they impacted.

“Wait- I never blackmailed-” Even as he dodged a flaming ball, making it snuff out along with all of the other objects before anything else could be ruined. “-look you need to calm down so we can talk like adults!” 

“Talk!? You want to  _ talk _ !? After five thousand years of no contact, no talking, no messages, nothing! It’s like you didn’t care that our bond faded over all this time! You could have spoken to me once during all that time, through that!”

“I couldn’t risk it!” He raised His hands. “We can talk now!”

“Well I don’t want to fucking talk! I want to beat your ass until you no longer look like the perfect, handsome, smug, asshole you always have been!”

“Well I only see you talking!” He shouted in turn. “Now can you please stop trying to burn down my palace!” 

“Oh! Pardon me! Your  _ palace _ is more important than me! Your stupid golden palace in your stupid golden Imperium in your stupid golden space Rome! I didn’t even know what the hell you were up to until that stupid golden propaganda piece came out with you and  _ your children _ you inconsiderate, egotistical, arrogant-” She chased Him around the room again, shouting every single expletive she could think of.

She chased Him back to the bed where He didn’t even bother dodging her fireballs anymore, done with her nonsense. “Alivia- Dammit stop and listen to me!” He didn’t care about the flames burning His uniform to cinders, nor did He care about her punching and kicking His body, it's not as if they hurt, but He was quickly having enough of her.

“You want me to stop!?” She screamed, throwing out a psychic backlash, causing Him to fall to the floor, just as she was about to cast a burning trail of fire, making Him reach out and pull her on top of Him to stop her.

Suddenly, she was slumped on top of what could only be described as a pile of muscle.

“Fucking idiot!” She shouted, her face buried in His chest. “Let me go!”

His arms wrapped around her, holding her tightly against Him, keeping her from attacking Him further. “Enough! Either you calm down or we’re not moving from this spot!” He growled at her, squeezing her tighter and eliciting a squeak from her.

She glared at Him, face wet with tears that had been falling the entire time she chased Him. She couldn’t even punch Him or kick Him. His arms held her down too well and even His leg was keeping her in place as well. If someone were to come in, it’d look like they were trying to recreate a human pretzel. “I hate you. I hate you so, so much…” She hiccupped, angry that her anger was fading and was being replaced with an immeasurable despair. “Why won’t you let me… you…”

His own anger ebbed away, watching her own fading and giving way to her true feelings made him softer. Despite the tight hold He had on her, He leaned down and rested His cheek on the top of her head. “Liv. Please, just listen to me. I know you’re feeling hurt, but I swear to you. I can explain everything.”

“I- I don’t want you to explain. I want to be angry.” The warmth He gave off, the squeezing grip, the feel of His muscled form holding her… She didn’t want to be comforted, she wanted to hate him. But the sound of his heart beating wildly beneath her comforted her in a way she hadn’t felt in five thousand years.

“I hate you…” She managed to say, holding back tears as their connection was reestablished for the first true time in millennia. “I-I hate- I hate-” She hiccuped. “-I hate-” The tears fell from her, wetting his chest, a lump appearing in her throat.

“I- I-” She blubbered. “I- I was so worried.” She managed to say even as she began to bawl. “- I thought - I - you died -” She cried into Him, her arms slipping out and grabbing onto her husband as if he was her lifeline as she buried her face into his neck as hard as she could and clung on hard enough for her muscles to ache. “- how - how could you- how could you -” She blubbered out, not letting go for even a second.

“I’m sorry.” He loosened his hold on her, hands rubbing her back as he soothed his beloved wife. “Believe me when I say that I had my reasons. Reasons that I will explain, if you want me to.”

“- I - I -” She hiccuped. “I grieved you-” He felt his heart skip a beat as she spoke his true name through their link, the only person in existence to still know it. “- I grieved you.”

He hugged her back, not speaking another word, understanding that now was not the time for talking.

They stayed that way. For how long he knew not, but it was a long time before the crying became sniffling, and the sniffling became an occasional hiccup.

He held her through it all, feeling her slowly calming down and for once, his mind was empty. No background thoughts, no planning for the next day, not even a thought of going to sleep. He simply was.

A long time passed before she let out a breath, slumping against him. His name again, the first thing from her lips that finally broke their silence. “Why?”

He looked out of one of the windows whose curtains had been blown slightly aside, gazing out at the blinking stars, as He began to perch the both of them up on the foot of the bed.

“Chaos.” He answered simply.

Nodding, she knew that was enough of an answer for a lifetime of anger. The bastards were the cause of so much heartache and trouble. The birth of the fourth one was the reason everything is so fucked up.

“You just decided for me. Again. You didn’t talk to me, you didn’t give me a choice.” The ache of that day had been played in her mind a countless amount of times.

“Liv, I didn’t have the time. It was the equivalent of a train leaving the station, I had to get on. I tried to move centuries early to stop what was coming, yet in the end it did nothing to stop what happened.” He squeezed her once more. That day was a sore spot for him as well. “I’m still unsure if I made the right choice or not.”

She let out a humorless laugh, “You don’t second guess yourself.”

“Alivia…” He sighed. “This is not plan A.” He scoffed. “This is not even plan B, C, D or the rest of the alphabet…” He spoke in a far-away tone. “Every corner, every road, every single step… they saw it coming.”

“So why didn’t you take me with you? Why did you leave me there? I could have helped you, I could have been by your side through it all.” She paused, thinking about the lost time and how badly his plans were destroyed.

“No.” He murmured, holding her tighter. “You would have been used against me. Your mind would have been poisoned. Just as so many of the other’s were. Just as humanity fell.”

“You don’t know that. You… didn’t trust me, did you?” Her worst thoughts were coming up, the whispers that spoke of why he really left her there.

“You know very well that that is not true.” He answered her without hesitation. “You know very well that I was never wrong about how dangerous something was.” The tone of his voice spoke volumes. “The stars were destroyed. The galaxy was made nearly uninhabitable…”

“But you had Mal with you then! You kept him by your side through the worst, yet I stayed behind to guard the portal. The worst in humanity was happening and yet…”

“I had them all Alivia.” He whispered. “I had them all…”

She looked up at him, the face of the man she loved was inscrutable, yet the emotions he gave to her freely through their bond spoke volumes. The despair, the loss, the aching void and hopelessness. The loss of so many friends they both knew for thousands of years, gone forever.

“How… How many are left? How did- I thought you said only… Only…”

He squeezed her hand, His face a work of stone even though their bond told a different story.

“Corruption.” He finally clarified. “Deceit.” He spat in anger. “Death.” He sighed. “I would have done away with her had her mind not been manipulated and irreversibly changed. In the end… Malcador… only truly him.”

“I… I wasn’t there to help you, I should have been there to comfort you, to care for you… I’m sorry-”

“We both know what would have happened.” He said in an iron tone. “We both saw the prophecy of destruction.”

She nodded, barely understanding what he meant by such a prophecy. It was one of the few things that he kept from her. “I don’t know how to deal with… everything anymore. Ever since Molech was colonized, I kept wondering if you were coming back or if something happened to you. I thought that the Long Night was done and over with and you’d come back. The longer it went, the more I thought you… that you were… gone. Can you even imagine what it was like? To be left behind, to not have a single word from you, to spend five thousand years alone with no idea of what’s going on outside? To see humanity come back and then still not hear a single word from you? What was I supposed to think? What was I supposed to feel? Why didn’t you come and find me? Why did I have to come find you?”

He looked outside, to the stars yet again, and stayed quiet, the silence reigning completely for a few minutes as he was unable to say the true words. “You can’t even begin to know.” He whispered even as a single word slid across their bond.

“You were afraid.” She shot at him, a spark of anger bursting forth. “I know it’s ironic coming from me right now but… why can’t you just talk to me?”

“I am not the same person you once knew, Alivia.” He shook His head. “I am changed not just by this war but by the cost of the creation of them and… and…” He sighed. “I split my soul.”

“You did what.” She pulled back slightly, looking incredulously at Him. “Why? Why would you do that to yourself? Why a second time?”

“It was the only way.” His response was nearly robotic, His eyes holding the look of a man who had gotten used to the story.

Her hands reached up to his face, taking his jaw in hand with a gentle grasp. Looking Him straight in the eyes and being given a countless amount of memories through their bond, she could see how devastated he was. The look of a man who had seen the worst of humanity and beyond, the look of a man who had to make the most difficult decisions with the worst pay offs. A good man who was forced to become that which he hated.

How he was still in that war, after all this time.

“My heart. You haven’t forgiven yourself, have you?”

“I have failed humanity, Alivia.” He whispered. “I cannot forgive myself. Even if I had to become something I hate.”

Her heart broke hearing him like this. Her anger could not be justified, now it only panged with regret at lashing out at him. Running a thumb across his cheek, she pulled him down for a soft kiss, the two of them leaning into one another in a need for comfort. “You haven’t stopped fighting, have you? A repeat of when we first met, do you remember?”

“My memory is clouded.” He murmured. “But I remember.”

A furrow of the brow and soon she was looking past him and into his soul. What greeted her made her nearly recoil and throw him from her grasp.

His soul had once been warm, welcoming and bright, gentle and magnificent to see. Akin to a bright shining star that glowed brighter than any other. When she witnessed his soul before, it made her and all others feel comforted and safe. Yet now when she looked upon his soul, past the guise of golden light that only portrayed the same brilliance he once had, she saw a guarded iron wall. A terrifying wall that caged a fearsome monster that still was prowling around it’s cage, muttering to itself about the horrors and the war it was still fighting. It exuded a horrifying aura that barked and snarled at any who looked at it, even her. She felt that horror wrack through her, daring her to leave and never return.

She steeled herself and looked past the monster that He was and deeper past the layers of walls He had erected through these millenia. Inside, she could see a tired old man, aged beyond His years and hiding away from the sight of others.

He pushed her out of his being, shutting the walls behind her as her vision refocused on Him, the man she didn’t know anymore.

“...it’s… We’re back at square one, aren’t we?” She spoke at last, coming to terms with what she saw. How different He was now compared to how He used to be.

“I…” He began, unsure of how to answer. “I still feel love for you.” He closed His eyes. “At least so I believe…. I have issues with discerning real feeling from memory. My humanity was absent for so long that I… At times I feel only happiness and glee, at others I feel only anger and spite… I am unsure of what is real anymore.”

“This is real.” She rubbed His jaw, looking straight at Him. “We’ve been through this before.” She gave Him a small smile. “When we first met, you were… close to this. You were hopeless, angry, depressed with how humanity was going. The Great War was still on your mind, you lashed out at everyone. You didn’t know how to act with everyone, how to act with me…” She squeezed His jaw, trying to ground Him to that moment. “But what did I do? I stayed with you. I did my best to make you happy, to make you smile. I took you on trips, joked with you, forced you to teach me how to dance, made you tell me stories of places you had been, put you out of your comfort zone.” She chuckled, thinking back to those days. “I didn’t give up on you then, and I won’t now.”

He looked away again, speechless. There were no words left for Him to say. His mind reminded Him that she spoke the truth, but there was no feeling, and she knew that, their bond reminding her.

“But… It did start with something special.” She whispered, leaning in closer to His still turned head, still holding His jaw, convincing Him to turn His head back toward her. She leaned forward and captured His lips in hers, closing her eyes as she did so, her lips barely moving at all as she opened her bond to Him and tried her best to remind Him of what they had once truly meant to one another.

_ They weaved through the crowds, her leading him away from their shared adversary. She giggled at the look on His face, incredulous that she seriously tricked a group of men to surround her. He asked her if she was mad. _

_ “You needed help. What else was I supposed to do?” She blew a raspberry at Him, a cheeky grin on her face. “Besides. You owe me a dance.” _

_ He rolled his eyes at her antics, but was grateful for the save. He couldn’t stand it when someone didn’t get the hint that He wasn’t interested. _

He leaned into her kiss, savouring each memory she willingly gave to Him. Moments they shared, moments where they fought each other, moments where they said nothing at all. The emotions she felt were as clear as the breaking dawn on a newly healed world. Yet His emotions were clouded, even His own face felt wrong.

Who was that man in her memories? The man who could so freely smile and mean it? The man who could sleep peacefully in her arms with not a care in the world? Why couldn’t He be that same man?

She tugged at the connection, making Him open Himself to her and allowing her to take some of His sorrow onto herself, making him drink from the memories and feelings like a dry rose, flowering anew.

She saw them…

Their faces. So small, so precious, still so innocent. She saw all twenty-one. She saw how each bore one of His best attributes. She saw how He tore himself apart so that they may yet live a full, free life. One not anchored to anyone if they so choose, because He was willing to give himself for them.

She saw how  _ they _ took them. How it brought the old Him back. How it made him commit even further to the atrocities that were now necessary. How it shaped His destiny. How it made all that remained of Him fear for losing the last connection He had to His ancient life…

Her.

She felt the tear on her cheek and knew it was not from her. And then and there she knew, that deep, deep in His core, lay her husband. So loyal, so protective, still so human.

And she could not help but love Him for it still.

They both were hurting, they both had so much they wanted to say and confess. Yet she knew that for now, it was best to comfort each other in the most primal way possible, to push past the hurt and go back to where everything between them was simpler.

They both crashed into each other, grasping onto each other like it was their only lifeline. Lips and teeth clashing, tears mixing as both threw their cares aside to be there for each other.

The emotions that swirled between them may be difficult for each of them to traverse, but they both knew that physically what was there was real.

So why not indulge in what they knew was real?

…

It was slow and full of comfort.

Not an act driven by passion or lust, but rather by pure need. One that made the two reconnect better than anything else possibly could have.

And when they had finally finished, and barely having the care to clean up after their activity, they simply lay there. Her in His arms, her head on His chest as His arms held her close, both staring at nothing, their minds running nearly empty of thought as they both processed what they had revealed to each other in their previous conversation.

An idle hand from the Emperor, going to curl one of her golden locks in His oversized, far too gentle fingers, was what finally brought them both out of their trance.

She felt the closest to him in millennia, yet at the same time, the farthest she had ever been.

It was a strange feeling, reconnecting with someone you used to know every single inch of, one you used to know so well you could even guess their very thoughts and whose company you yearned for for so long…

Only to have the reunion feel more like a meeting between old partners rather than lovers or even the spouses that they were.

Well… that wasn’t strictly true she supposed, feeling the warmth of her husband's body, her hand beginning to make circles on His chest as He curled the hair in his fingers.

It was just like the olden days…

She took a deep breath, treasuring every second of the familiar scent as she closed her eyes and snuggled closer. “Do you still rise at 7.30 sharp?” She asked, her voice slightly muffled by His body.

“Yes.” He answered slowly, blinking away errant thoughts.

“Breakfast at 8.30?” She asked again.

“Yes.” He answered, still slow, but faster then before.

She moved to get a look at the slightly skewed chrono on the wall. “We still have a couple of hours.” She pointed out, perching herself on her arms, uncaring if her hair looked a mess, He had seen her in far worse states before. “Do you… want to talk more?”

“Of what?” He asked, and she felt the fear in His voice, knowing that the emotions he had shown to her before had taken their toll on Him.

Thus, instead of accosting her husband further, she instead stood on her knees and stretched thoroughly. “A bath, pedicure, manicure, my hair could use touching up…” She waved a hand even as she smiled at Him, a confused look coming to His face before it turned into its own gentle smile.

“Are you sure?” He asked, only partially joking as He propped himself on his own elbows at the head of the bed. “The room is a bit of a mess.” He gestured towards their wanton destruction from before.

“Quite sure.” She quickly tweaked his nose with her fingers, something she used to do a lot when she was feeling slightly silly in the past, He remembered. She stood before He could voice another objection, her hips swaying perhaps a bit more than they strictly needed to as she traversed the destroyed room in search of her clothing, moving away a chair and bending over, giving Him a rather wonderful view. “Have you seen my panties?” She asked, her voice the definition of innocence. 

“Try the chandelier.” He quipped, lazily pointing upwards where the pair were hanging off of one of the lights. “Really brings out the color of gold, if I do say so.”

She pouted over her shoulder. “Can you get them, please? They’re my last good pair and I’m not the best telekine.”

“Your wish is my command.” A flick of the finger and the pair were dislodged from the chandelier.

She gave him a smile as she was redressing. “You know, this reminds me of Paris. The room almost looks the same… We had a massive fight that ended in sex…” She shrugged, “just add in Nazi’s marching in the streets and it’s 1940 all over again.”

“There are no SOE operatives waiting outside the door for us.” He pointed out, looking at the charred scraps of his own uniform and frowning.

“So you  _ do _ remember!”

“Hard to not remember thinking I nearly lost a war.” He grumbled.

“Really? That’s the only thing you remember? Not the dent in the wall we made in the shape of me? Not the climax of all that flirting and me finally getting you to sleep with me after three full years?”

A thoughtful look graced the Emperor’s face. “Oh yes… I suppose that did happen that day.” He looked away, and she felt pity for him as she found some other pieces of her clothing and began walking back to Him, only to notice Him hiding a grin. The type of grin that He only got when-

“You idiot!” She shouted in disbelief. “You  _ do  _ remember!” She smacked him with her clothes, flushing.

He let out a chuckle that made her heart flutter more than it should have. “I do, in part.” He admitted as another chuckle escaped Him and He rose to His full height, towering over her.

“Down boy, that height is a double edged sword, you know.” She averted her eyes. “Besides, it’s not even our craziest night together. Finland was up there, same with the Mars compound, the time we snuck onto a ship heading to the galactic east, or what about the time on Titan?”

His brows furrowed. “In exactly how many places did we have sex?”

She gave Him a blank look. “Hun, we’ve been married for twenty seven thousand years, I can’t count all of them.”

“Oh…” Was His only response as a coy grin grew on Her face and she looked down at the pile of clothes in her hands, then back up to His naked form.

“Room service?” She asked coyly. “Please tell me you have bagels, I haven’t had one in five thousand years.”

“I… I believe that recipe is lost to time.”

She paused, silent then sighing deeply. “I hate this future.”

He awkwardly patted her arm. “So do I. So do I… but I hear the pancakes are delicious.”

“American or European?” She asked in the strict voice of a teacher.

“European.” He responded.

“Those are Crepes and you know it.” She argued.

“You are only saying that because you were Danish.” He argued back as He walked past her and into another room that looked to be a walk in closet.

“Were? What, did all of the blood and DNA in my body fall out of me during that session? How can I not still be Danish, even with the country long gone?”

“It is hard to argue when that part and culture is all gone.” He responded from the closet. “I never called myself Anatolian.”

“You are arguing semantics again!” She threw a pillow at the closet that didn’t even make it across the threshold. “Maybe you should keep arguing, so at least I’ll be prepared to deal with your  _ brood _ .”

“Don’t be like that.” He called out again, “They are nicer than you think.” He paused, “Well… now they are. They weren’t all- well kind of…? Look, we’re all trying to be better and that’s what counts.”

“You did a terrible job upon finding them again, didn’t you?”

“It… could have gone better with some, mind you. They weren’t always angels themselves. Point is, everything will be fine, especially with their mother back.” He stopped and muttered, “Did I just say that out loud?”

When He didn’t hear her say anything, He halted His dressing and slowly poked His head out the closet, seeing her staring at Him open mouthed.

“Liv? You alright?” He asked tentatively, not wanting to have to go through another fight and having to calm her down.

She was quiet, hands covering her mouth as she sat on the edge of the bed. Her shoulder shook slightly, looking up at him with uneasy hope in her eyes.

He slowly walked to her, the same as approaching a scared cat, kneeling before her. He waited for her to say something to him, close enough to act if she were to react violently or to scoop her up if she started crying.

“You… I am their mother?” She asked softly, unsure if she heard him correctly.

“Indeed, you are.” He took her hands, holding them gently. “...you are… pleased?”

“Pleased?” She sputtered then grew into a smile, resting her forehead against his own. “I… I don’t know what to say. You remembered after all this time?”

That was certainly unexpected. Making a sound of acknowledgement, he continued. “I did. It was not easy, I will not lie to you. If I wanted to go the easier route, I could have used any woman on Terra at the time to make them. Or forgo the second party all together and make do with just my own.” He gave her the tiniest of smiles, “But I remembered what you wanted the most. I used your DNA, even if it was a nightmare to work with at times. I promised you a long time ago that I would find a way for us to have children.”

“I remember that day.” She giggled softly, “we were in Hawaii, our second honeymoon. It was… years after we were married. We talked about children and… well that conversation didn’t go so well. We got into a huge argument and you told me why you didn’t want to have children again.”

He nodded. “After what happened before, I couldn’t risk it. I couldn’t risk them being seen as gods or prophets by humanity. Or even as great destroyers or tricksters. Not again.”

“We eventually calmed down, and when we were sitting by the shore… you asked me, if we could have them, what would I want.” She looked up at him, their gazes locked. “I said I wanted boys. Lots and lots of boys.”

“Because you couldn’t stand the girls in your village.” His grin was growing, “and you had no idea how to raise a girl.”

“Yeah.” She laughed, her laughter enough to make Him brighten up immensely. “I… I started going on and on about what kind of boys I’d like. One who I could wrestle with and tell all the stories my father told me of our ancestors. Maybe one who’d like to share in the same books I loved. I even had a few names I would have liked, a few names you liked as well.”

“Horus is a great name, I’ll have you know.”

“And it is just as nice a name as Konrad.”

He flinched and looked away. “Yes. It is.” He said as He breathed out. “They are yours but… they have others in them as well. The greatest of humanity is within their genome.”

“So, that collection of yours finally came in handy?” She asked, still blinking away tears. “I’m a mother.” She whispered. “Me. A mom without knowing it.”

He looked away, incapable of bearing the look. “I feel… guilt.” He finally admitted. “It may have been me modifying them or…” He shook His head. “I don’t know.”

“Hey.” She said with a crackly voice as she reached out and grabbed one of His hands. “I am happy.” She let out a sad chuckle. “I really am. But it’s… it’s so sudden I didn’t expect that… that your hobby of messing with genealogy would result in the ones I met.”

“You met them? How?” He was confused, yet it would explain how she got past the Custodes...

“I met a set of twins. They caught me working as a Dock worker, a few Space Marines dragged me to them. We had a lovely chat about…” She trailed off before nervously laughing. “Well, they wanted blackmail for you.”

He sighed. “You met Alpharius and Omegon.” He pointed out. “The more… esoteric ones.” He suddenly realized something. “Wait…  _ what did you tell them?” _

“A lot.” She chuckled, leaning back from him. “Look- Listen, I was mad at you and I thought you went behind my back so I might have told them a lot of embarrassing secrets and-”

He quickly got close to her, his eyes the picture perfect definition of worry. “ _ Which ones? _ ”

“...New York. And Finland. And our trip to meet my parents. And Hutton Orbital.”

“Hutton Orbital!?” He nearly shouted. “That was a fluke and you know it!”

“And you got arrested there, I know.”

He backed off and collapsed onto a chair. “Fucking coffee mug.”

“I still have mine.” She chuckled, not wanting to rub in his face how she told the twins about that woman and her weird dog and how Her husband got arrested over said dog.

He groaned. “I suppose we have both been doing things behind each other's backs then.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t call ‘Building a Space Empire’ as something you do behind someone’s back.”

“Fair… I suppose, I don’t quite have the willpower to argue that part.” 

She redressed, looking vastly out of place in her dock worker uniform, no boots and sitting on the Emperor’s own bed. Looking down at herself, “what do we do now? Where do we go from here? Cause I’m not going back to Molech.”

“No, I don’t think so.” He sighed. “You are still my wife.”

“Yes, I am.” She pulled her legs up and crossed them, hands resting on her knees. “That’s not what I’m asking, though. Where do we go from here? You’re an Emperor.”

“Well, that is not what I was alluding to.” He pointed out. “I was referencing the fact that because you are married to me and are thus a part of this so-called Royal Family… that would qualify you for the position of Empress.” 

“What, am I just a modern Victoria?”

“Well, not the grandmotherly part yet, but that is under way.”

She chuckled, “Hun, I am not cut out for being a leader. Much less a queen or an… An Empress. My idea for a party is a cake and streamers.”

“Neither was I truth be told.” He sighed. “Mine are mostly the ideas, basis and general decorum from observing humanity for so long. It was Malcador who dealt with the actual administrative duties for the most part.”

“And from what I’ve heard from the propaganda, you’re definitely not a figurehead, more of an active Emperor. I’ve heard about you going off to the front lines, passing edicts… So on, so forth.” She shrugged, “I don’t know where I would fit into this. I’m not a military figure, the most administrative duties I ever had was be your secretary during some of the wars you joined, I never got along with the bougie aristocrats… I don’t know what I can do to help you.”

“Sticking around with me will be enough. Your role will become clearer with time.”

She opened her mouth then shut it with an audible click. It certainly made sense… She couldn’t just be given a set of duties, a pat on the head and go off to get her chores done before supper. Things are more complex than that, more complex than she’s ever had to deal with when traveling with her husband. “You… You really waded into this, didn’t you?” She sighed, already imagining that she was going to have a full workload in the foreseeable future. “This one isn’t just a job, is it? Not like the other ones where we could finish it up, leave, get new names and identities and move on. You’re far too invested in this to just leave, aren’t you?”

“It was going to be.” He sighed. “Originally, I was going to restore humanity, banish the great enemy and be done with it forever more.” He leaned back into His chair. “But recent events and evidence that has come to light have… changed that.” He shook His head. “Mankind will now never survive without me at its head. I have seen it far too clearly to take that risk again…”

She gulped, then she realized something…

Her feet and hands were cold. She looked out across the still destroyed room, spotting the fireplace, its fire having long since fallen to embers and padded over to light it anew.

“Best we get started then.” She said, rousing His attention just as small flames began to rise out of the embers and began to consume the kindling.

“You…” He started, surprised at her resolve. “You realize that once you are in this that there is no out? No leaving-”

“If I wanted to leave you, I would have stayed on Molech.” She quickly interrupted Him, tossing a log onto the fire. “Besides. I’ve been in this for a long time now. Day one, I was with you. Even if you were the meanest, most closed off person I ever met in my life. I can’t just abandon you now, not after everything we’ve gone through.”

She raised a hand, lighting the fire once more and watching the small flame grow with her careful help. “Just like on that first day, you’re stuck with me whether you like it or not.” She grinned at Him over her shoulder.

He chuckled and stood, walking over to her and kneeling down by the fire with her, watching it grow as she leaned into Him, and a very gentle chime came from the chrono above them, indicating 6am.

“I… I’m still mad at you over everything.” She confessed, “Don’t get me wrong, we’ll talk it over later. But right now I want you to know that I’m leaving your side ever again.”

He gently brushed her arm as He nodded. “I thought so.” They sat in silence for a moment.

“So…” She began. “Golden statues?” She chuckled.

“They look nice.”

“Mhm.” She hummed. “Like a jeweled toilet.”

He gave her a very pointed look. “I get enough jests from the boys about my tastes.”

“Oh good, then you’re used to it.”

He groaned half-heartedly. “They do their job, and they do it well.”

“You made them, I don’t doubt that.” She smiled. “And the style fits this whole gothic, victorian vibe it has going.”

He looked at her horrified. “Don’t you dare teach them that word or they are going to be using it non-stop! I barely got it excluded from the Gothic Lexicon.”

“Gothic- That is a very interesting choice. Why Gothic?” She switched the subject, already planning on teaching the boys all the annoying words she still remembered.

“Not my choice, believe it or not.” He sighed. “English died out long ago, but… Latin remained in the scientific fields. It was surprisingly easy to make it speakable and wide spread.”

“It was quite easy to pick up.” She admitted, even as they both spoke in the language, perhaps not even realizing that they had been speaking it since their reunion, the old habit coming back in full swing.

He hummed before groaning, standing, and padding over to a vox-caster built into the wall near the bed. “May we get a cleanup crew in here please?” He asked before walking back over to her. “Bathroom is that door.” He pointed at one of the smaller doors in the room.

“Did you just call for a ‘cleanup crew’?” She asked incredulously. “How often does this happen?”

“The boys can be manchildren.” He responded without so much a second thought as she laughed, standing and taking off the jumpsuit that was the dock workers uniform, causing Him to frown.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting ready for a shower.” She responded cheerfully, tossing the jumpsuit into his face. “You just ordered a whole cleanup crew, you can order me some new clothes.” She practically skipped into the bathroom before poking her head out once more, “And you still remember my size, right?”

“How can I forget…” He murmured to Himself, suddenly realizing what certain digital based passwords of His were from.

“Good! Now get me lots of clothes, nice shoes, I expect a full wardrobe. Spandex isn’t a thing anymore, or at least that’s what I found… So no leggings for me, I suppose.”

“Fine, fine. I’m not getting you anything denim either!” He recalled those particularly horrid parts of her wardrobe.

“Aw come on! They’re comfy!”

“The only people who wear denim now are the lowest classes.”

“And that’s supposed to convince me to not wear them…?”

“It is if you are going to be the Empress!” He heard her blow a raspberry from inside the bathroom. “You will have the eyes of the galaxy on you from every moment we are out of these apartments and once it gets out that you are my wife. As my wife, you’re going to be an icon to the people. Whatever you wear will set the precedent for everyone else. Not just for the nobility, but the people as a whole.”

“Are heels still a thing?” She asked, already showering to her heart's content. “Something fancy, yet simple, ooh that could work.”

“Yes, a lot of women wear heels on many planets in the Imperium.”

“That’s wonderful!” She cooed. “What about latex?”

“Only- what.” He blinked, “...technically yes? Latex is a very useful material…”

“What about some pants of it then? Golden ones.”

“Why would you-” He stopped as a realization hit him. “Oh. Was I into that…?”

“Oh yes you were. You liked it when I wore tight pants in general. Or short skirts. Take your pick.” She whistled merrily in the shower, letting her husband stew. “Oh- can’t forget about the time I got those high-heeled boots that ‘accented me wonderfully’ and right as we were going to go at it, I was gonna take them off but you begged me to keep them-”

“I don’t need the details!” He shouted, feeling flush as she laughed from the shower. “Wait- you made that one up!”

“Oh hun… You wish that I did. That’s as true as I am Danish.”

He walked over to a chair in the middle of the room and sat down, wondering how He had managed to forget that much of His life and… how exactly had He fallen so naturally into the banter He just had with His wife.

Soon afterwards, the cleanup crew arrived and the Emperor took the opportunity to reassure the Custodes outside of the door that He was fine and to also send down the order for the clothes to the Palace’s tailors.

About twenty minutes later, the very efficient cleaning crew had departed and some of the furniture was put back in place along with the room being tidied up.

The Emperor sat on the freshly made bed, sighing and considering what He was going to do now. Yet another wrench thrown into His plans, but perhaps a useful one in the end… wait… no, no manipulation what was He thinking? His mind was still too wild, still adapting, still…

Huh… that was one rear.

What?

He snapped out of it when He looked up to see His wife stride from the bathroom and go in the direction of his closet, coming to a sudden stop just in front of it after throwing the towel to the ground. Her head turned to face Him, her still damp hair swaying as those brilliant cerulean blue orbs framed by the curtain of blonde came to rest on His own brown.

_ Beautiful… so beautiful... _

As soon as the thought flitted through His mind, she smiled at Him and shook her hips at Him teasingly before pulling out one of His clothes from the closet, inspecting them. She slowly twirled in place, looking over the shirt, watching from the corner of her eye as He watched her every movement.

The confidence she displayed before him stirred something within him, glueing his eyes on her form as she slipped on the shirt before his eyes. The vision of his wife in his shirt too great for Him as He averted his eyes from the perfect picture before Him.

“You have never been this shy before.”

Her voice made His gaze return to her approaching form, curves hidden behind the soft oversized fabric she wore. He gulped as she slowly mounted his lap, a smirk growing on her face. “It’s cute. Almost like we’re newlyweds.”

“Was I this bad then?” He asked, trying to remember the details of that night so long ago...

“Oh no. You were confident and assured in your… prowess.” She spoke to him softly, hissing to herself as she remembered the many nights and mornings they shared. “You taught me well in this art, one that I came back to over and over again, eager for your wisdom.” She leant close to Him, lips barely brushing his own. “The only time you were ever shy was when we spoke of our emotions…”

He gulped, audibly, even as her lips pressed more firmly-

A knock on the door as the vox emitter built into the wall next to it turned on. “My Emperor, some of the clothes you have ordered have arrived.”

Alivia huffed, pulling back from him. “Saved by the bell?” She chuckled, running her hands along his chest once more before leaving his grasp. “I suppose we can continue later.”

“We-” He cleared His throat and straightened His clothes. “We have much to do today.” Honestly! He felt like He was one of those school boys from those cheap Colchisian Holonovellas.

“Yes, yes. Pity I can’t wear your shirt all day.” She winked at him.

He groaned, before calling for the door. “Come in!”

...

“I’m gonna need a quick run down on the boys. Names, likes, dislikes, legions, planets they came from, cultures, who likes who, who can’t sit together, what are some of their interests, what have they been working on…” Alivia looked to her husband who was helping her get dressed. “I need a crash course on how to talk to my own sons…”

“Well, to start off, don’t go in and expect them to like you. Quite a few of them hate me right now and I don’t think they’re ready to meekly accept another person barging into their lives. Plus, they’re all adults. It’d be different if they were children, however, I don’t believe many of them want a mother in their lives.”

“And whose fault is that, exactly?” She snapped at Him, her eyes framed by an angered look before they widened as she looked away from Him, quickly clearing her throat. “I… I’m sorry. I-”

“No, no. You have every right to be angry.” He consoled her, taking a deep breath. “I appreciate you worrying about me and my problems, as you always have, but realize please Alivia.” He stepped next to her, placing a calming hand on her shoulder. “It goes both ways.”

“Of course I know that.” She sighed, slowly smoothing out her simplistic dress. “Look, I don’t think we can get into that right now. Please, just tell me about the boys.”

He made a sound of acknowledgement, stepping back from her to admire her new look. “Good. I believe you are perfectly presentable.” He offered her a hand, to help her step down from the platform she stood on. “And to answer your endless questions… I don’t think I can answer them all in the amount of time we have.”

“Then do your best.” She smiled. “We can do it just like we did for Cuba.”

“Running through a town that was in the midst of a coup?” He asked in turn as she stepped off of the platform, her heels sinking slightly into the plush carpet. 

“No.” She tilted her head at him. “With the intelligence given to me on the go.”

He sighed, a smile coming to His face as He shook His head. “I remember. You snuck in. Oddly fitting then I suppose.” He motioned over to the door. “Which one do we start with then? Nothing wrong with a bit of an early start.”

“Is one named Konrad? That was my favourite name out of my list.” She looked up at her husband, excitement glowing in her eyes. 

“Ah.” He said, His face taking on a strange look as He opened the doors to His apartments, the staff going by them and into the room to freshen it up, bowing as they did so. “That one is… special.”

“How so? Is something wrong with him?” She asked, eyes distracted by the passing windows in the hall they were walking through.

“Not so much wrong as… complicated and difficult.” He reasoned, waving off the two Custodes that were about to escort them.

“Well, you’re complicated and difficult.” She jested, still looking out the passing windows. “Ah… It’s snowing. Must have started during the late hours…”

“Hmm?” He hummed, driven out of his revelry and glancing out of the window. “Ah. Yes, I suspected it would soon. The planet is slowly returning to its natural cycle.”

“Indeed.” She hummed in turn as they began walking down the still relatively dark hallway. “But that does not answer my question.”

“No, indeed.” He tsked. “Konrad was meant to be the arbiter of arbiters. The one who upheld the law. Sadly, that also required a very specialised environment for him to be raised in. Nostramo was not such an environment.”

Her gaze snapped to him, worry evident throughout her entire body. “Is he alright? Did they do something to him?”

“He is functional and works with… complexities and many obstacles I am afraid.” A hesitant look graced His face. “Nostramo twisted his purpose somewhat. His personality is far from what I had hoped it would be.” The Emperor looked down at her. “He is plagued by visions, ones not of my doing.”

“Have you done anything to mitigate the visions?”

“No.” He shook His head. “Visions, as you know, are sights of only a possible future. The worst part about them is that they tend to come at least partially true. Konrad’s were of an eternal war. Of fratricide and genocide. Of a second era of strife.”

Her hands gripped his arm tightly, anxious of a second Long Night. “But… It’s not happening. Everything is fine, right?” If possible, her grip was even tighter when she spoke.

He slowly nodded. “It is now. The answer is far more complex than just that, but rest assured, for now the visions granted to me and our sons have safely averted the future that Konrad’s visions prophesied.”

Her grip loosened by a fraction, relief breaking through her anxiety.

“Konrad remains disturbed. And what’s more, he remains afraid of the psychic arts. He is a scarred man. I do not believe he will take well to you, I am sad to say.”

She nodded, hurt flashing over her face before being replaced with a more optimistic one. “I… I believe Horus was your favorite name. Am I right to assume you named one Horus?”

His frown slowly turned into a grin. “Why of course.” He explained. “The first one reunited with me. The only one I managed to see as a boy in fact. The de-facto Warmaster.”

“Ah, so he is one of our sons.” She tutted. “I heard about him on the holonet constantly.”

“His achievements are many, and they are great.” The Emperor boasted and she swore that He grew a couple of inches just then.

“I also recall a lot of women and men being angry with the Warmaster too. Something about nobles and him and planets.”

The Emperor’s mouth closed with an audible click. “Ah yes… his full name is Horus Lupercal…”

She burst into laughter, “Lupercal? As in Lupercalia? So what, is he some type of hated casanova?”

“Lusted after, more likely. He claims it is a curse, yet I see him doing nothing about it. Frankly, I see it as a gift to be used.”

“Hypocrite.” She nudged him with her elbow. “Be careful, or else I’ll bug you about celebrating Lupercalia with me…” She trailed off, thinking intently. “Actually, now that I think about it… The holidays sounds like it would fit well in the Imperium. And if my math is correct… I think it should be coming up soon.”

“Funny you should mention that, Terra just celebrated the new year.”

She made an exaggerated sad noise, “Which means I missed Christmas again. But Lupercalia- or Valentine’s I suppose- I’m in time for that!”

“It’s a while off yet and there are a great many things happening before that.” He raised a hand. “There is a war council to gather, the biggest one yet, this world still requires much work and the rest of the family is yet to arrive.”

“What do you mean ‘the rest of the family’?”

“...about that.”

**...**

“Lord Sigillite! Good morning!” Horus greeted his uncle, who only nodded to him. “You have been summoned by Him as well?”

“Yes. Much earlier than usual.” Malcador grumbled as he hobbled along with Horus who matched the Sigillite’s pace. Horus had received the summons and had made haste to meet with his Father, just happening by the Lord Sigillite on the way. “I presume you have spent the night in the strategium Warmaster, as always?” Malcador smiled.

“As is proper.” Horus smiled in turn. “Someone has to make sure the war gears of the Imperium continue to turn.”

“Good, good.” The Sigillite praised. “That would explain why you did not hear Him last night.”

“Hear Him, Lord Sigilite?” Horus asked, confused. “What do you mean?”

“Your office is not that far away from His own personal wing, is it not?”

“Yes.” Horus answered. “It is quite close in fact, but the strategium is sound proofed-” His head snapped in the Sigillites direction. “Has Father had another sudden epiphany?”

“You could argue that it was.”

Horus sighed before groaning. “What is it going to be now? A new gold plated ship?”

The Sigillite chuckled. “It is not something as dire as a midlife crisis mind you. It is something that I would classify as far more… clarifying.”

“Like what, another vid that only He saw?” Horus asked, sniffing trouble on the horizon.

“On the contraire, this is something that I think we will all get to see.”

Horus shook his head, knowing that the Lord Regent would not deign his questions with a straight answer.

“Would it have anything to do with the disturbance last night?” A third voice joined the duo. Constantin appeared from an unknown hallway junction they passed by.

“Ah, Captain-General. Good morning.” Horus greeted. “It appears that only the Lord Sigilite may answer that question.”

“It might very well.” Malcador answered, a grin playing about on his ancient face. “Depending of course on what this disturbance you refer to was.”

“Reports of a woman shouting and throwing objects at the Emperor in His personal apartments along with nearly burning them down thereafter have reached me.” Constantine answered with a plain look. “Would you have something to do with that Lord Sigillite?”

“Pardon!?” Horus was scandalized, looking between Constantin and Malcador. “Why did the Custodes not intervene?”

“They did.” Constantine answered. “But they were sent away by His own orders.”

“Why? Why would my Father entertain a mad woman in his own apartments?”

“Indeed.” Malcador tapped his staff twice on the floor as they continued walking to the Emperor’s personal office. “What woman could possibly get away with that?”

“I- I don’t know? That’s why I am asking you! I know my Father, and he does not spend time dallying around with women-” He stopped, glowering at the Sigillite. “You are teasing me once more, aren’t you Lord Sigillite.”

“What makes you say that Warmaster?” A coy grin came about the old man’s face.

“Because I know for a fact that my Father may have an appreciate for the fairer sex, He does not entertain them.”

They came to a halt before the doors to the Emperor’s office, and Malcador raised his staff to knock on the ornate, wooden doors. “That may be so, but I think you will find this woman quite special.

“Special is one word for insane, troublesome, violent and almost setting my Father’s apartments on fire.”

“It is apparently another for the meaning of someone who the Emperor has called His wife.” Constantin interrupted just as the Sigillite rapped on the door thrice with his staff.

Horus suddenly found himself unable to speak when the doors were opened by the Custodes standing on each side. There before him was his Father smiling, actually smiling for once, and on his arm was a woman who was entertaining Him with some type of story they walked halfway into.

“-and that was when we decided we had to get away from that planet. I think you understand that it was for the best since we got arrested once before there and didn’t fancy another go at that.”

“And we actually got away? Wouldn’t our guests have gotten in the way?”

“You’d think that, but Eldrad was instrumental in-” She stopped, noticing the doors were open and they had visitors. “Oh! Mal!” She broke into a wide grin, leaving her husband’s side and immediately coming to Malcador and sweeping him into a hug. “Mal you old coot it’s so nice to see you!” She steadied him pulling back when she noticed he was swaying from her attention. “Wow. You are super old.”

“Unfortunately.” Malcador gave her a small smile, steadying himself by leaning on his staff and a hand on her arm. “And you are still the exact same. What a damned curse that is.”

“Has my husband been a bully and hasn’t allowed you to be reborn yet?”

“Unfortunately. As I presume you call it, ‘Space Rome’ has the full extent of my attention.”

“See!” She looked back at the Emperor, “It is Space Rome!”

“There are other elements of course.” Malcador added in hastily as he walked forward, leaving behind a gaping Horus and somewhat uncaring Constantine. “But that was always the main motif.”

“Still, kind of unfair to you. Making you do all the hard work and not letting you take time off to recuperate.” She looked after Malcador, sad to see him having to be so old.

“Alivia, I assure you, that I did not mind most of it.” Malcador explained, hobbling further into the room and sitting down on one of the comfortable chairs in front of the massive and ornate desk with a groan.

“It’s just… weird to see you like this. I still remember when you would crowd surf and drink from a keg upside down.”

Malcador let out a laugh. “I have not done anything similar to that in over ten millennia Alivia! Bless the stars, your memory is good.”

“It’s the one good thing about me.” She snickered, “I also remember when you were the one to convince us to start a band for a while.”

“All for a front for the mission, I assure you.” He waved an aged hand.

Horus looked between them, confusion evident. “Uhm… Father. Is this… Liv?” He couldn’t get the image of Malcador crowd surfing out of his mind.

The Emperor slowly nodded.

Horus looked over the woman before stepping further into the room and closer to her, parts of himself reflected off of her. This was the woman his Father called Liv, the person he confused him with at times. “It is nice to meet you, ma’am. I am Horus Lupercal, Warmaster of the Imperium and the Primarch of the XVI legion.”

She turned and looked up at him, the well done blonde hair and blue eyes looking up at him even as he felt something gentle wrap around his mind, feeling as if his very thoughts-

She looked away and towards the Emperor. “Did you really have to make them so damned tall?”

“Well, perhaps? They needed to tower over Humanity and show-”

“They’re too tall!”

“It is a necessity.” The Emperor tilted His head, standing behind His desk. “The Height also gives them efficiency in combat.”

“Right. Of course.” She scoffed.

“Is… Is there something wrong with my height?” He couldn’t pinpoint why he was so anxious with this woman, why he felt so different.

“Oh, don’t mind my comments. I’m just eager to get a closer look on you, but it’s kind of hard to do that if you’re so tall.” She gave him a gentle smile, “don’t worry about it, honey.”

Did she just call him honey?

“Uhm.” He said, not knowing what else to say in the situation. What did she want? Was she one  _ those _ types of-

“Oh no.” She quickly interrupted, looking up at him, “the only one that interests me is your father right over there. And…” She blinked a few times. “Wait…” She turned back to the Emperor. “Did you never even give him so much as a mother figure?”

“I… No. He did fine without one.”

“What about telling him about me? Please tell me you told them about me.” She gestured to Horus while she pointedly stared at the Emperor. “Tell me you told him.”

“Ah…” The Emperor raised a hand. “You see, there were complicated reasons.”

“Oh, do tell what those complicated reasons were to not tell our children about me!” Her hands were on her hips now, openly glowering at him. “What else have you not told me!?”

“He still does that.” Malcador interrupted. “Best not to argue about it with Him. It won’t get you very far, Alivia.”

“But I’m their mother! Their actual biological mother! The least he could have done-”

Horus felt as if his entire world had just ran straight through an adamantium wall as Alivia kept on rambling. Suddenly the feelings from before made far more sense and he felt the shock reverberate through his body as he looked towards the Emperor. “She’s my mother!?” He shouted, unable to stop himself.

“Surprise.” The Emperor gestured to Alivia.

“I would smack you right in your stupid face if I-” She stopped, running her hands over her face as she took a few deep breaths. “No… No, I’m not going to get mad. I think if I get mad I won’t be able to stop.” A few more breaths and her hands fell from her face. She turned to Horus, a gentle smile on her face. “I’m sorry about that. Your Father has no tact at times.”

“I… no He does not.” Horus answered. “I am sorry… it is just, it’s a bit of a shock…” He looked around, deciding to sit down onto one of the chairs by the desk, finding himself head height with her.

“It’s ok.” She reassured him, the smile on her foreign face oddly calming. “I know it’s strange and quite frankly, horribly confusing. But well… Anything that has to do with your Father is strange and confusing.” She chuckled.

“I suppose you’re right there.” He chuckled slightly in turn, not sure of what exactly to do with what he was feeling. “You are… new then?”

“If by ‘new’ you mean, ‘has been sequestered on a backwater world for the past five millennia’, then yes indeed, I am new to this… Imperium as your father calls it. But not new to His methods.”

“It is fine of me to presume that you are His better half as most would presume to call you?” Constantin interrupted, the servos of his auromite armour whirring quietly as he took center stage.

She thought about it, then shrugged. “I’d call him my better half. Can’t tell you how many times he’s been there and helped me throughout our twenty seven thousand years of marriage.”

Horus suddenly looked very frightened, his head turning towards his father. “I think I suddenly understand what has kept you from doing the more inane ideas of yours before this.”

The Emperor opened His mouth to protest, but let it stay closed after a moment's thought, sighing as He motioned to Constantin. “Alivia. Constantin. The Captain-General of my Custodes and the first of his kind that I ever made, and for the better part of a few centuries, an irreplaceable companion.”

“So… you had to make one to stand you.”

Horus let out a wheezing laugh, covering his mouth as he composed himself. “I suddenly see where Jaghatai gets his unique responses from.”

“Really?” She asked in surprise as she went to shake the Custodes hand, surprising Constantin more than anyone else. “He named one of my sons after that mongol butcher?”

“A fantastic ruler.” The Emperor defended himself. “Those genes serve him well.”

“I am sure they serve you just as well in turn.” She said in a sing-song voice, causing Horus to smile. Perhaps there was more to her then even he thought...

…

What followed after was nearly two hours of extensive questions and even more extensive answers.

The workings of the Imperium were massive in scope, and five millennia was a lot of history. To say nothing of twenty-one sons who just so happened to be Primarchs.

The simplistic explanation of the politics alone took an hour just so that Alivia could grasp the scope of the coming War Council and how the family got to where it was today. 

They were not nearly done. But it was clear they would not achieve much more from simply sitting in the Emperor’s office and talking about said Imperium when they could afford to show her.

“I could arrange for a tour of this world this day.” Malcador suggested helpfully, sipping on some recaff that was brought in during their long conversation. “The War Council is not happening as of yet and it would be a good idea for the Wife of the Emperor to at least meet some of the leaders of the Armies and politicians before the big event.”

“And I think there will hardly ever be this chance again.” Horus added in. “Many Legion representatives, including their Remembrancers, are present on the planet. A great chance to see the outer workings of the Legions all the while beginning to deal with future history.”

She nodded, sipping on her own recaff. “It’s a lot to take in, but hey. If I can remember things happening twelve thousand years ago perfectly fine, I can get this down.”

“It would also be wise to arrange some political event in a few days.” Malcador added. “Perhaps a ball? That ought to gather the politicians in one place for a time that will be limited enough that they shall not become unbearable.”

“Not to mention it would be a good way to introduce my wife to the nobility and begin the process of easing her way into the family.” The Emperor agreed. “We shall have to start the process of getting her approved and to start giving her duties, not to mention the long process of moving her up to the station of Empress.”

“Shall I have the Custodes run some simulations and prepare the security detail for her with your approval sire?” Constantin asked, looking at the Emperor. 

“Of course, Constantin. I recommend those who are very personable.”

“As you wish, sire.” Constantin bowed his head. “May I be excused? There is much to be done.”

“Yes yes.” The Emperor waved a hand. “I shall see you before the tour begins.”

Constantin bowed and walked out of the door just as the chrono chimed Eight-thirty in the morning, marking breakfast.

The Emperor stood, causing Horus to do so and Alivia to walk to His side as Malcador pulled himself to his feet.

“Terra will be inevitable.” Malcador said. “A palace is not a seat of rule without an Emperor and or Empress.” He gave her a sympathetic look. “I am afraid you shall have to return there from time to time, the throneworld will require us all.”

She smiled back. “Not to worry. I can take a bit of the old Earth.” She let out a long breath. “Even if this planet reminds me far more of it than Terra.”

“It can of course wait until after this War Council is over along with this family gathering.” The Emperor reassured her. “And I think I may be coming with you, should all go according to plan.”

“Good. I admit, I am not happy about being separated from you again after these past five thousand years.”

He reached for and gently squeezed her hand. “Neither am I.” He leaned down, and without thinking, pressed a light kiss onto her lips, looking back up afterwards at a somewhat strange faced Horus.

“That is how that feels.” Horus said aloud, nodding along before turning and beginning to walk for the doors of the office.

…

“So how many of your brothers will be missing breakfast, Horus?” Alivia asked her eldest. She had been enraptured by him, the both of them speaking to one another through their journey from the Emperor’s study to the dining hall. She couldn’t stop herself from asking as many questions as possible and finding herself answering a few of Horus’ in return.

“Well, Corvus, Ferrus, Lorgar and Konrad will be skipping this meal. The four of them cited that they stayed up longer than anticipated and will promptly catch up on their sleep and work. Roboute and I were a part of their group, however, the both of us are used to working more than perfectly fine on less sleep. My Macraggian workhorse of a brother will be joining us.”

“Workhorse?” She asked, chuckling. “You make it sound as if he is a workaholic.”

“Ha.” Horus smiled. “He is. I promise you that it is quite impossible to remove him from his work, it is like trying to pry a treat from the jaws of a canid.”

“So you say.” She smiled in return. “What of the rest?”

“Jaghatai is on the other side of the planet last I heard of him.” Horus shook his head. “That man takes to a jetbike like a human takes to walking.”

She hummed.

“Rogal and Perturabo have cited the need to oversee the building of other structures on this continent, so they will not be present either, along with Fulgrim and his wife Rhea as they have chosen to take a private breakfast. All of my other brothers should be present.”

“Oh good! I’m excited to finally meet all of you, even if it will take time. I am unaware if you know or not, but your Father and I have been talking of children for a long time, longer than you can imagine.” She gave him a warm smile as she glanced at her husband who was walking a bit taller. “We are… quite old after all.”

“Fossils.” Malcador added in. “Positively sand by the standards of time.”

“No need to rub it in, Mal. You’re a walking fossil right now.” She huffed.

“True true, did you know I almost succeeded in persuading your husband over here into making some of the Primarchs girls?”

“What?” She slapped her husband’s arm. “Adam! Why didn’t you?”

“Scientific reasons, my heart.” The Emperor chuckled at her blustering, something inside of him finding her puffy anger endearing.

“Adam?” Horus asked with a raised eyebrow. “That is a… strangely gothic sounding name for you father.”

“Ah, don’t mind him. Jack over here has a lot of names he used to use, yet one he never does  _ for obvious reasons. _ ” She snickered. “Though, I like Adam the most. First name he gave me when we met.”

“It was the first one that came to mind. Don’t even think of making fun of me for that one.”

“Oh sure. Take the name of the first man in the ancient book. That definitely doesn’t have any religious connotations.”

“Also one of the most common at the time, with a record 12% of the population being named it during that time, if you so recall my dear.”

“I do. I just find it hilarious that you chose that name on that holiday when we first met in some weird reenactment of the Garden Eden. Except replace the garden with an opium den and the whole rib thing with your flask on my face.”

“And you quite literally dying.” He pointed out.

“But you were there to pick me up and take me on the ride of a lifetime.”

Horus cleared his throat. “I see. I am happy to know that the two of you have set a precedent for a strong, healthy relationship from the get go.”

“Unlike you.” Malcador commented.

“What?” Alivia looked from her son to Malcador, wondering why her husband was laughing now, Horus was uncomfortable and Malcador was grinning.

“Hmph.” Horus sighed, rolling his eyes. “I will blame Father for this.”

“What?” She looked to Him. “What did you do now?”

“Why do you assume it’s my fault just because Horus says so?”

“I am inclined to believe my son who happens to have been truthful with me from day one.”

“It is day one, Liv!”

“See? And look how well it’s going.”

“Indeed, just like Poland.”

“In my honest defence, I had next to no experience with the military at the time.”

Horus hummed to himself, watching his parents go back and forth was comical and quite calming. A sense of normalcy which he had not experienced before since his time on Terra was slowly making its way back into his life. Having a mother who was quick to defend him by instinct, a Father who was doing his best and brothers who were trying to be better was the recipe for a perfect family, all things considered.

He simply let them go back and forth, for a moment forgetting his own age and position, simply content to enjoy the walk.

**...**

Leman, clutching onto and supporting Magnus while the other did so as well to his brother, stumbled into the dining room, both feeling as if they had let a few Space Marines go at their heads with Thunder Hammers for a few hours.

Promptly ignoring their already present brothers, they each slumped into their own chair and immediately called for recaff and grox bacon to ease their hangover.

Only to be politely informed that only drinks were possible until the Emperor Himself was present at the head of the table, which for some bizarre reason had space for two now.

“Ugh.” Leman groaned. “Me’ head…” 

“I thought it was impossible for you to be hungover after the amount of alcohol you had consumed in your life Leman?” Roboute asked, peering over the data-slate on which he typed something.

“It ain’t- it ain’t.” He groaned, continuing to hold his head with one hand even as he nursed a cup of recaff with the other.

“Glad to have that confirmed for if I am ever to be your drinking companion.” Sanguinius chuckled, holding up his own cup of recaff before going back to the book he was reading.

“You really should stop that drinking, if for nothing else, then for the safety of your liver.” Mortarion pointed out, very slowly sipping on a cup of weak tea. “Any reason why Father’s place at the table looks different?”

All of the present brothers leaned forward and looked down the table to see that where once was one chair, were now two, with a matching set of dinnerware.

“That is strange.” Roboute said. “I was not informed of anyone joining us.”

“I don’t care, I want more recaff…” Magnus groaned from his spot on the table, nursing the life giving liquid that made the pounding of his mind lessen.

“I care.” Sanguinius rose a hand. “Who would equate to father at our own breakfast table?”

“Fair point.” Roboute mused, flipping through countless reports on his data slate. “Perhaps Malcador has been promoted for his fine work.”

“No need to make such a jest.” Sanguinius went back to his novel, ignoring the small twinge inside of him that was demanding answers, leaning back into his chair.

Mortarion harrumphed. “Evidently, we have someone new joining us. And if our Warmaster of a brothers absence is of any note, this someone is…” Mortarion gestured with his hands. “We will see.”

The superior hearing abilities the Primarchs shared was the first indication that the missing party was fast approaching. The sound of Horus chuckling and an argument between their Father and some woman greeted their senses. A few brothers shared glances, perplexed about the third voice. Last they recalled, Rhea was taking time with Fulgrim and there were no other high ranking ladies that would or could have the privilege of joining their table.

Before the doors even opened, the back and forth conversation could be heard by the brothers.

“I don’t know what to say, your pointers aren’t exactly helpful you know!”

“My pointers are fine, you just don’t like talking politics or war. I highly doubt most of them will like talking about stories and history.”

“Oh please, stories of you being a reckless young lad would be interesting for anyone! You just don’t want me to embarrass you.”

“You have a very good grasp on how to make me sound and look bad no matter what I do, you know.”

“Well, you make it so easy.”

“...what is going on…?” Sanguinius snapped his novel shut, staring at the closed doors and wondering how to deal with the approaching problem.

The doors opened and revealed the party in question.

There was Horus and Malcador along with their Father of course.

But surprisingly… there was another.

She had a slim build and wore a wonderful red dress that reached her calves and defied the traditional flowing, frill that was in fashion for a far more militaristic, smooth look, even as a pair of heels raised her height and shoulder length, curled, blonde hair graced a slightly pale face indicative of long term space travel, with bright blue eyes.

And yet… the face stood out far more than anything else.

To a regular human, it would appear normal, if not an above average, beautiful woman in her late twenties.

Every single one of the Primarchs in the room saw it for what it truly was.

It was ancient. The look one only got after they had lived an extraordinarily long life and experienced countless things and horrors.

The look shared only by Malcador and the Emperor Himself.

“You are definitely Sanguinius.” The woman grinned, a smile that reminded the angel eerily of Vulkan. “Horus and your Father did tell me about the wings, but I suppose I had to see it for myself.”

“Even still, you doubt me, my heart.” The Emperor led the woman into the dining hall, bracing for impact… and the questions. Best to go in dry and get it over with. “Boys… I’d like you to meet your mother.”

The silence that overcame the dining hall was deafening, with only the fire crackling from time to time to break it as every single one of the Primarchs stared at their so called mother, examining her thoroughly.

Alivia felt as if someone had just hooked her up to a lie detector and could read her mind as openly as if she was a book. The stares from her sons felt incredibly strange, almost on another level, what had He done to make them such incredible huma-

“Fine!” Leman shouted out, nearly collapsing on the table. “Does that mean I can finally get my fukin’ bacon now?”

“We’re having bacon? Bacon is a thing still!?” Pure confusion bloomed on her face, “Does- Does no one care about this huge revelation?”

“Ignore our brother’s drunken slurs.” Roboute quickly intervened, standing. “How has this come to pass? And why now?” He asked, looking directly at the Emperor.

“Well, to start, I messed up way before you boys came into the picture.” The Emperor let out a deep, long suffering sigh. “About five thousand years ago-”

“Ah, it’s monday then.” Mortarion interrupted, intervening his fingers before leaning back.

The Emperor closed his eyes and sighed “About five thousand years ago, the Long Night occurred and I had to make some difficult decisions, one that has come back to rear her beautiful face in. She saw that propaganda reel of all of us together on Terra, which prompted my wife to leave her post on a planet far from here and is of no importance.”

“And…” Alivia cut in, chuckling at how she reacted. “I could have taken the news a bit better. I left my post, travelled to Terra, found out this big idiot over here wasn’t even there, came to Salutis, was arrested by those Twins-”

“Of course the Twins have something to do with this.” Roboute scowled, hoping his Father and… m-mother… would get to the point already.

“Acting purely-” Alpharius raised a cup as Omegon drank some liquid.

“-on-” Alpharius sipped and Omegon raised his cup.

“-orders.” They both put their cups back on the table with a smile.

“And you two. Finish. Each other’s. Sentences.” Alivia jested in a stilted manner, mimicking the twins. “Nice to see you two again. So yes, after I was arrested by them, they snuck me onto Salutis and I awaited your Father in his chambers. Needless to say I was pretty angry at him for very justified reasons and if anyone knows what happened last night-”

“What happened last night?” Sanguinius cut in, looking between his parents.

“If you have to ask that, then you don’t need to know.” She cleared her throat. “After a long… discussion… on what your Father did wrong, we came to a happy conclusion and he revealed to me that his precious Primarchs are my own children.”

Roboute looked back and forth between them, a slight twitch developing as he attempted to reason on what happened last night that did not end up with a horrible image of his Father doing uncouth things.

Mortarion spoke up, “If you haven’t seen each other in five thousand years, then how did you two make us, if that’s even true at all.”

“It is true.” Their Father straightened up, “I fulfilled a promise to your mother made long ago. My old lab on Terra was nearly untouched and the collected samples there were enough to achieve my greatest achievement.” He smiled softly at his sons, “All of you.”

“Flattery will only get you so far.” Horus made clear from behind his father. 

“So that is that?” Roboute asked. “We are going back to normal as if our, excuse me as to how I say it, gene-mother’s absence was nothing?”

“As I said.” Mortarion interrupted, sipping on his tea. “Monday.”

“Look, I didn’t know all of you were my kids until a few hours ago!” Alivia sighed, imagining for the upteenth time that she knew earlier.

“Forgive our mannerism, please.” Sanguinius apologized. “But Father has a tendency of doing these sorts of things at a relatively common rate as of late.”

“As of late? Sounds like he hasn’t changed from when we first got married. I swear, there were times he was tight lipped about a lot of things, even when we were running around the galaxy together.”

“To be honest, most of us have known him for only a century or so.” Roboute answered.

“Ah. Well, you get used to him after a few thousand or so years-”

“No.” All of the present Primarchs said at once, including Leman and Magnus.

“Is- is this a nightmare?” Magnus blearily managed to mumble out. “Thousand years with Father?” He made a dismaying noise. “That would be… an experience.”

“You’re being nice.” Mortarion said to his brother as Magnus waved a hand.

“Hangover…” He managed to blurt out.

“Actually… considering everything that has happened to you, all of you are taking this very well. I suppose I’m simply used to it. Twenty two thousand years of only him as company made me a bit complicit towards his antics.”

“We can be considered the optimistic ones.” Roboute said, approaching his ‘mother’. “I fear that others such as Konrad, Perturabo and the like, will not be so keen.”

“Well, I don’t expect them to accept me outright. I know it can be strange to have someone suddenly butt into your life and make everything confusing.”

“You have no bloody idea…” Leman groaned and most of the Primarchs nodded in understanding. 

“I am…” She paused, thinking over her words. “I am happy to meet all of you and get to know you in your own time.”

“I suppose we will make it work.” Roboute said diplomatically as he extended his hand. “Roboute Guilliman.” 

“Alivia Sureka.” She shook his offered hand. “And I have to say… You look exactly like my father did.” She tilted her head, shaking his hand slightly slower. “With… some distinct features of…” Her eyes went slightly wider. “Your father has always been great at genealogy.”

“Of whom?” Roboute asked. “I insist, my curiosity for history is sometimes matched by only Magnus’.”

“Gaius Julius Caesar.” She answered, smiling.

“Who?” Roboute asked, his brows furrowing.

“Great Hero of Rome and founding father of the Roman Empire.” Alivia chuckled, a confused look going across her face as she let go of his hand. “You, seriously don’t know who he is, yet you carry his genes?”

“Many historical records were lost, long, long ago.” Magnus mumbled, beginning to finally get over his hangover.

“Oh…” A frown came about Alivia's face. “I knew that the loss of history was extensive but… not this bad.”

Roboute cleared his throat. “Perhaps you can explain it to me someday, I would love to hear the story of who I can presume to have been a great man.” 

“One of the greatest! Your father was obsessed over him- did you know he loved the man so much he ran around as his doppleganger during that time? Ask him about the Ides of March, he certainly regretted being Ceasar’s doppleganger that day.”

“I ran as many people during that era.” The Emperor defended himself. “Although he was a man ahead of his times.” The Emperor nodded sadly. “Thankfully… I was able to make the path clear with Augustus.”

“Kids stories…” Leman grumbled. “Can we wolfin’ eat already?”

“Yes yes Leman.” Malcador walked past them, a small smile on his face as Roboute looked down at his newfound gene-mother with a diplomatic look. “Let us eat.”

**...**

“This is a military uniform.”

He shrugged, “You get used to it. You’ve worn plenty throughout our time together, why should it be different now?”

She looked herself over in the mirror, “I don’t believe I’ve ever worn something this grand… It has embroidered gold and gems and… It’s more than I was expecting.”

He chuckled from his own stand where a few Custodes servants helped dress him. “The Armour is even more decorative, if you can imagine it.”

“It sure feels like armour.” She answered, moving slightly for the servant that was trying a sash. 

“It is befitting of a woman of your station.” The Emperor said. “A future Empress.”

She turned in place, looking over the uniform and watching her Husband dressing behind her. His uniform was of a black and white fine thicker cloth, accented with abundant golden embroidery and the palatine aquila upon His shoulders, along with a golden chain across His chest that held closed the billowing dark cloak that surrounded His massive form, all tied together by a rather plain pair of tighter black trousers, with black boots, all finished off by the golden laurel which he wore on His head, that held back His well comed shoulder length hair. 

Her own uniform was a more form fitting version of His own, much the same color palette and the embroidery was a mirror of His own. Though his uniform included his massive cloak, her own lacked one; a softer more feminine figure being shown rather than the large imposing figure He cut. Her long skirt ended near her ankles, the edges trimmed with the same gold as her coat. All finished with a pair of gloves adorning her delicate hands as the sash was finally tied around her middle.

“How am I supposed to act out there? Do I go all Queen Elizabeth II out there, or perhaps Margaret? Or would you prefer Diana or Kaiserin Jane?” She asked, stepping down from the platform and thanking her serfs. “Oooh maybe Victoria from the soap?”

He groaned, “Do not. You watched every episode of that with your face practically glued to the screen.”

“Hey! You watched it with me, so no complaining.”

“Did I?” He asked, as He stepped down from His own platform, pausing halfway, His eyes widening a fraction. “Oh shit. I did.”

She chuckled. “You scrutinized every tiny detail, corrected the dialog half the time, constantly said that it did not happen this way or that that did not happen at all, yet still you purred like a cat at the romantic scenes.”

An incensed blush bloomed on his face but was cleared away with a clearing of his throat. “I am a man, after all.”

“A hopeless romantic if I’ve ever seen one.”

“Can’t an old man like his soaps?” He sputtered. 

“I suppose. Though most soaps do not have such charged and realistic romance scenes that inspired you-”

“Anyway.” He cut her off, knowing that the serfs and His Custodes were still in the same dressing room as they were. Honestly, when He went back and forth with her, it was hard to remember they had an audience. A sense of normalcy and playfulness filled Him whenever she dragged Him into another word play spar. “Shall we get going? We do have a schedule to follow.”

“Ah, ah, ah.” She stepped up to him and showed off her gloved hands, finger wiggling to catch his eye. “Our uniforms match.”

“Yes.” He said nonchalantly. “What of it?”

She gave Him a look, one that made Him feel quite sheepish. “Where are yours.”

“They did not come with the uniform of course.” He explained, clearing His throat.

She waited, looking Him up and down before tapping a finger on her chin, humming. before approaching Him quickly, hands reaching behind Him and picking His gloves out from His belt. “I knew it.”

“The Emperor does not care for gloves. Therefore, He does not wear them.” The Custodes to His left spoke up, looking down at her from behind his helmet.

“Oh hush.” She lectured. “It’s a statement of His station, every single piece of clothing means something. You should have seen Him explain Victorian court life to me at one point.” She reached for one of His hands, donning the gloves for Him. “So much as a finger wag could mean something, I know for a fact that any nobles we so happen to meet will be looking at it the same exact way.” She reached for His other hand, and began donning the other glove. “They may be too polite to complain about it to His or even my face after they realize what I am to Him, but they will certainly make a hassle of it behind the scenes.” She finished, grabbing a hold of His hand for a second longer than strictly necessary before letting go, looking up at her frowning husband.

“These should have stayed on the animal they came from.” He complained.

“Hush, you big baby. You’re not dying. I swear, all of you shouldn’t let him get away with things like this.”

“It is not within our place to question Him, my Lady.” The other Custodes to the right answered.

“Well it’s a good thing I am around now.” She smiled, tugging on one of His hands as they walked out and into the corridor. “I believe we have a schedule to keep!”

He sighed, His frown giving way to a gentle smile as He followed his wife, the two Custodes keeping pace even as four more joined them, trailing slightly behind to give enough privacy to the couple.

**...**

Their journey by foot took them across the entirety of the palace, finally seeing a halt at the massive main hangar, where a land train was waiting for the two royals, one which the two quickly boarded with their escort.

They were seen to their private carriage, a cozy and warm wagon, painted with warm and beige colours and decorated with lovely wooden furniture and comfortable chairs upon which the two sat as the train sped away, the organized architecture of the palace soon giving way to the snowy terrain of a forest, decked in a fresh blanket of snow and snowflakes speeding by the window that added to it.

The journey would take about an hour, their destination being the only military base on the entire continent, a true rarity on any Imperial classified Treasury World, but a luxury afforded to and for the sake of privacy of the Imperial Royal Family and their guests.

It was not long before serfs came along, serving the both of them tea and the biscuits to go along with it, before quickly excusing themselves and vacating their carriage, leaving them alone with only the sound of the trains wheels to occasionally disturb the quaint silence.

She stood, grabbing her cup off of the table and moving to the window, sitting down, removing her gloves and taking a sip of the fruity drink as she looked at the passing landscape, inclined to simply watch for a few minutes.

“You know…” She began. “Make it completely flat… and it’s almost home.”

“Hmm.” He hummed in agreement, sitting on a massive recliner, signing off on some important documents on a data-slate, His tea sitting on a tiny table next to Him along with the hated gloves of His.

She continued looking at the wonderful wintry landscape, bittersweet memories and nostalgia coming forward, along with a slight frown on her face.

“Sometimes I really question it all.” She said quietly, looking down at her expensive, militaristic, uniform. “Now more so than ever.”

“It is normal to do so.” He tried to reason, not yet looking up from the data-slate. “You have been thrust in a position of great importance in a very short amount of time, these sorts of thoughts are to be… expected.”

“I don’t think I ever had one as important as this.” She continued to muse, looking over at Him. “I don’t think I will ever adjust.” She stood, walking over to Him.

“You will, with time it shall become second nature and there will be no need to wear any sort of mask.” He signed something on the data-slate, holding out an arm and unfurling His cloak, allowing her to sit and snuggle up next to Him on the recliner as He brought the cloak over her much smaller form.

She rested her head on His chest, looking up at the complex documents which He was signing off on, trying to understand them, pointing at one. “What is that?”

“Oh, that is…” He trailed off, looking down at her, then at the cloak covering her. “I did that by pure instinct.” He murmured.

She smiled at Him, snuggling closer to her Husband.

“We used to spend a lot of time like this. Thinking and planning and resting.” She explained, her eyes feeling slightly heavier than normal, His scent just as relaxing as it had always been, reminding her of just how much of her life had been absent for so, so long…

“I… remember some of them.” He said apprehensively, lowering the data-slate so that she could see Him work. “I am signing off on requests from the Administratum, there are many questions about you, a great many things to settle.”

“About me?” She asked. “Nothing is even official yet. Why do they need to get in a fuss over me already?”

“Nothing is official on the official channels, yes.” The Emperor clarified. “But the back channels are nearly clogged by you suddenly coming into existence.”

“Hmm…” She hummed gently, her bright blue eyes looking up at Him with a content look on her face. “To think all it takes to make this upheaval is me coming into sudden existence.” She smiled. “Poor menials working for Malcador.”

He smiled in turn, turning off the data-slate and putting it on the table next to His forgotten tea and gloves. “They will deal with it, Constantin is due to return to Terra at least once more before this War Council anyway, and he can inform them of the details, although I think he can stay a while longer, he was not needed much when he stayed there last after we have all departed and…” The Emperor felt a calmness come over the link between Him and His wife, looking down and seeing that Alivia had closed her eyes, her breathing becoming more gentle as she slept.

Feeling her slip deeper into her sleep in His arms, their link informing Him of the incredible amount of trust and comfort she felt that He afforded her somehow felt more humbling than anything He could recall in recent memory.

He reached out with His left hand, brushing away an errant strand of hair from her peaceful face, unable to resist letting it linger a while longer, making circles on her smooth, white skinned, face, adoring the positivity coming over their mental link as He felt His own eyes growing heavier.

Allowing His head to sway back and rest on the pillow of the recliner, His eyes closed and His mind, ever tumultuous, calculating, constantly planning, fell inexplicably silent, as the Emperor slowly slid into a calm, dreamless, sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is.
> 
> The final chapter rewrite.
> 
> It took us a long time, a year and a half to do this. But now? The story is so much better. We finally got through it all. SpaceBattles and Ao3 are now completely up to date and fully posted.
> 
> We can finally write NEW CONTENT. Next up: Chapter 12. A main line chapter.
> 
> I'm so tired.


End file.
